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Chapter Text

"Tony, you have to go to this meeting, they've been breathing down my neck for the last month to get these budgets sorted out," Pepper sighed, obviously exhausted and clutching her clipboard close to her chest as she stared intently at her boss.

The billionaire wasn't playing much attention to her, resting his chin on his five year-old son's head, the watermelon scent of the child's shampoo tickling his nose. Peter was happily watching a Disney movie on the TV, sat in his father's lap and slouched against the man's broad chest, the billionaire's arms wrapped around him in a safe, warm cocoon.

Tony sighed through his nose, ruffling his son's soft chestnut curls. "Come on, Pep, it's eight on a Saturday night," he groaned, mimicking the way a child would whine when they couldn't get their own way.

Peter giggled, turning his attention away from the film for a second and Tony grinned, dropping a kiss to the crown of his son's head. He turned his pleading gaze on his personal assistant again.

"Pull me a favor and get it booked for tomorrow, I'm kinda busy right now," he murmured, gradually becoming occupied with nuzzling and kissing his child's hair.

Pepper couldn't stop the smirk from appearing on her face. Ever since Peter was born, Tony had become completely smitten with the little boy. He was the accidental result of a quick fling, but a happy accident. She sighed good-naturedly and rolled her eyes in amusement.

"I'll see what I can do," she said, turning to leave and give the two some space, before stopping in the shadow of the doorway to watch them.

Tony released a huge sigh, his cheeks blowing into balloons as he reached for the remote and switched the TV off just as the credits began to roll, the living room plunging into a hazy, golden glow from the lamp beside the sofa.

Peter turned from his position on his father's lap, his bony knees digging into the man's thighs as the little boy settled himself so he was face to face with the billionaire.

Tony regarded him softly and puffed his cheeks up again, pulling a silly face and Peter grinned, mischievously. He reached his hands up and patted his father's face innocently, before smacking them against the man's cheeks, who released the breath he was holding in with a sharp exhale right in the child's face. The force blew the boy's curls away from his fore-head and Peter shrieked with laughter, the sweet sound escalating when his father began tickling his son, calloused fingers wriggling under the boy's shirt, causing him to squirm uncontrollably in the man's hold.

It was only when Peter turned red from laughter and began to wheeze did Tony finally stop, gazing at his son with warm, dark eyes, all gooey like melted chocolate, as he gently lifted the little boy higher into his arms as he stood from the sofa.

Peter settled into the familiar hold, his small arms wrapping around the man's neck and his head resting on his shoulder, right where it met the neck. This was where Peter felt safe and protected. Tony gently rocked his child, turning his head to place a sweet kiss on his son's soft cheek, causing Peter to nuzzle closer, his cold nose pressing into his father's neck.

The billionaire carded his fingers through the boy's hair, untangling small knots as he made his way to his son's bedroom, smiling softly when he felt Peter lean into the touch. Tony carried him to his bed and pulled back the Star Wars themed duvet, gently lowering his son onto the mattress and tucking him in, just as the boy let out a huge yawn. He grinned, sheepishly, up at his father, a small fist coming up to rub at the sleep in his eye.

Tony smiled, tenderly, his heart blooming with a love so powerful it almost took his breath away and he bent down to kiss the boy's cheek, then his nose. Peter giggled, softly, his legs kicking out under the blanket as he wriggled under the tickly sensation of his father's goatee. The billionaire chuckled, leaning back to smooth his hand over the duvet to calm his son's squirming, who watched his father with adoring eyes, which were beginning to glaze over with sleep.

"Now go to sleep, little bug. Daddy has a very important meeting tomorrow," Tony murmured, running his fingers through the soft locks for a self-indulgent moment and chuckled when Peter turned onto his stomach into his favorite sleeping position. He nearly purred at the feeling of his father's warm hand gently caressing his scalp. "Love you tons, baby," Tony whispered, tenderly kissing the child's fore-head and tucking the blanket tighter around his son's small body.

"Love you, Daddy," Peter murmured, his words slurring as he drifted off into a peaceful sleep. Tony smoothed his child's hair down and, feeling suddenly conscious of someone watching them and he turned his head to see Pepper standing in the doorway, leaning against the frame. She was smiling, softly.

"Got the meeting re-scheduled for Monday so you can spend the day with Peter tomorrow," she said.

Tony returned the smile. "You're a miracle worker, Miss Potts," he remarked.

"And you're completely smitten with that little boy," she shot back with a grin. "I've watched you, there's no way I'd be able to separate you two."

The billionaire chuckled, standing up and wincing as his knee cracked and he stretched his stiff limbs. "Thick as thieves."

"It's more than that, Tony. You've changed with him, he's made you relax more, open up to people. That kid is your good luck charm," she said, surprising Tony with the sincerity and assurance in her voice. He glanced down when Peter shuffled underneath the sheets, legs kicking out and resulting in the duvet covering only half of his body. The elder Stark raised an amused eyebrow at Pepper and bent down to adjust the cover so it fully covered his son's small body and pressed a kiss against the boy's brow. Peter mumbled incoherently in his sleep, keening into the touch like a kitten.

Tony sighed through his nose, running his hand through the delicate curls and twirling individual strands round his finger. "You're right," he murmured after a moment. "He's the best thing that ever happened to me," he stated, the sudden lump in his throat causing him to almost choke on his words. Pepper remained silent; she knew she had just witnessed something special.

Chapter Text

"Tony?" A small voice spoke, so quiet and timid that the billionaire was surprised he even heard it and he looked up from the Stark Tablet on his lap.

Peter was standing in the doorway of the living room, wearing one of Tony's old grey hoodies which was very baggy on the boy's slender frame, who had wrapped the long sleeves around his slim torso. He had maroon pajama bottoms on and messy bed hair, his face clammy and eyes red with unshed tears. The usually cheerful teenager looked utterly miserable and Tony's heart went out to his distressed mentee, who should have been sleeping peacefully at three in the morning.

"Hey, kid," he greeted, softly, lowering the tablet beside his legs, which were stretched out on the coffee table. "Bad dream?"

Peter nibbled his lower lip and fiddled with the sleeves of the sweatshirt, shifting his weight from foot to foot anxiously. The elder grew increasingly concerned upon seeing this, as the boy was rarely this hesitant to speak with him.

The two had grown even closer following the events of the past few months, where Tony had done everything to finally see Peter after Thanos successfully managed to wipe out half of all life in the universe, yet it was all in vain. Tony had spent five years mourning the boy who had become like a son to him, something he never thought he would have until he married Pepper and had Morgan. There was always something missing from their little family, Pepper knew it, she had seen her husband grieve the loss of the doe eyed, spirited boy he had taken on - not Tony's child by blood, but in every other sense of the word.

When the billionaire finally held Peter in his arms again on that battlefield, he was close to weeping out of pure relief and joy at having his son back where he belonged and he vowed to never let Peter slip away from him again. Tony felt a primal urge to erase all of the younger's pain and his heart broke when Peter nodded in response to the man's question, wringing his hands in the hem of the hoodie, nervously.

Tony smiled, softly, in empathy and patted the empty space on the sofa next to him. "C'mere, bud," he gestured with his chin, wanting nothing more than to reassure his kid that he was safe and protected, much like how he acted with Morgan when she herself woke up in tears after a nightmare.

Peter hesitated for only a second, before shuffling over and dropping onto the cushions beside his mentor, folding his legs underneath him and surprising Tony a bit when he wrapped both arms around the elder's torso, burying his face in the man's neck.

The billionaire was started for a moment at the boy's clinginess, but something about it just felt right - the warm feeling of his spiderling in his arms filled him with that special feeling he also had when he was holding his daughter. He loved Peter; he finally realized this when it was too late and the boy had disappeared into ashes in his arms on that terrible day. Never again, nothing and no-one could separate them.

Tony raked his hand through Peter's curls, smiling gently as he felt the teenager lean into the touch and press his cold nose into the man's neck.

"It's okay, kid. Do you want to talk about it?" The elder asked, tenderly scratching at the boy's scalp and marveling at the baby soft texture of Peter's chestnut curls.

"No," Peter murmured, gripping his mentor's dark pajama top tighter and nuzzling his face into the soft fabric, the innocent action causing Tony's heart to melt. "It was just about you getting dusted again and I don't wanna think about it," the kid sniffled, his voice sounding more high-pitched than usual, as he forced the small sob in his throat back down. Tony could feel the boy's quivering body against him and he felt an upsurging amount of affection for his kid, leaning down to press a sweet kiss to Peter's soft cheek.

"I'm sorry, kiddo," he whispered against the tear-stained skin. "I wish I could take that all away from you."

"Not your fault," Peter mumbled, melting into his mentor's touch when the man used the pads of his thumbs to stroke away the drying tear tracks on his face. "I know it's stupid, but I just wanted to make sure you're still here and you're going to disappear."

Tony swallowed, thickly, curling his arms tighter around the teenager's slender frame and resting his fore-head against the brown curls. "I'm right here, baby, not going anywhere," he murmured, the endearment slipping past his lips as he rubbed soothing circles on the boy's back.

Peter snuggled closer, warmth sinking in his bones and he sighed in contentment, a huge yawn escaping him as he sank deeper into his mentor's arms.

"Love you, Dad," he mumbled after a moment, words slurring together as his body succumbed to sleep and he heard and felt an amused chuckle, the man's broad chest vibrating against his ear. The last sensation he felt before exhaustion finally consumed him, was the comforting scratch of Tony's goatee on his skin as the elder pressed a gentle kiss against his brow.

"Love you too, sweetheart," Tony whispered, pulling back and smiling, warmly, when he looked at his son's peaceful face as he slept.

...

A little while later, as the billionaire's own eyes were drooping with sleep, he was startled into reality again when his phone on the side table began buzzing. He scraped a hand over his face and grabbed the phone before it woke the boy asleep in his lap, whose head was now resting there. Glancing at the ID, he saw that it was Pepper ringing and he quickly answered in a quiet whisper.

"Hey, Pep, what's up? It's-" he checked the clock above the fireplace "-four in the morning?"

She sighed. "Morgan, she had a nightmare and I only just got her to sleep, what are you up to? I knew you'd probably still be awake."

Tony couldn't help the chuckle that escaped him, looking down fondly at his kid, combing his hand through the curls and twirling an individual strand round his finger.

"Well, that's a bit of a coincidence, honey, because a little spider also had one and has currently made camp on my lap," he mused, smiling when Peter lifted a hand up to grip onto the hem of the man's top, squeezing the material between his fingers.

"Peter? Is he okay?", Pepper asked, concern in her tone of voice, believing the fifteen year-old had seen and experienced far too much for someone so young.

"Yeah, yeah, he's fine," Tony assured her and she could hear the softness in his tone; the only other times she saw this side of him was when he was with Morgan. He sighed, softly, after a moment. "It was about me disappearing and I promised him I wasn't ever going to leave him again, but no-one can make that sort of promise without jinxing it," he commented, bitterly, groaning in despair, the harshness in his voice contrasting with the tender caressing of his fingers against Peter's scalp.

"Tony...", Pepper sighed, fondly, and the billionaire could picture her shaking her head and rolling her eyes. "It's just like you to think too much. You are there now and that's all that matters. I know you'll do anything for that kid and you will always be there for him, so please just stop worrying! You are doing a fantastic job with him and Morgan, they both adore you!"

Tony chuckled, warmly, running his fingers through the soft locks and smoothing his hand down the boy's back. "Not as much as I love them," he admitted, quietly.

"You big softie," Pepper laughed. "Alright, I'm going to check on the munchkin, you make sure you get some rest as well, Tony."

He smiled at her concern. "Love you, honey. See you soon."

"Love you, too. Bye!"

...

It was ten o'clock in the morning by the time Pepper and Morgan walked through the doors of the cabin house after their girls weekend away and Pepper stopped short at the sight that greeted them.

Tony was slumped sideways on the sofa, Peter cuddled close to him, his head buried into the man's chest and Tony's arms were wrapped, protectively and securely around the boy's body. Pepper couldn't think of a better place Peter should be, he was safe and warm in his father's arms.

Chapter Text

The clock had just struck nine on a Friday night when eleven year-old Peter Stark finally walked through the doors of the apartment.

Blissfully unaware of the fact that he was returning over an hour past his curfew, having lost track of time whilst spending time at Ned's house, he dumped his backpack next to the sofa, bobbing his head in time with the music blasting through his ear buds.

He was so occupied with taking his trainers off that he nearly jumped out of his skin when he felt large, yet familiar hands, roughly pull him up. He was suddenly face to face (or face to chest) with his father, which was strained with such ferocity that it made the boy's blood run cold and the man's dark chocolate eyes also betrayed the anxiety that Peter was rarely exposed to. He could tell the elder Stark was mouthing his name in a loud tone and he immediately removed the ear buds, his father's heated yelling and harsh grip on his forearms was scaring the child, as the man had never used anything but a soft, warm tone when he spoke to him and he was always gentle and affectionate when he touched him.

"Where the hell have you been, Peter?! I was worried sick, you're almost two hours past your curfew and anything could have happened to you!" Tony screamed, his face going red in the heat of the moment as he squeezed Peter's shoulders so tightly, it caused the younger Stark to release a small squeak of pain, but he dared not make too much noise in case it upset his father more. The billionaire barely noticed his son's cry of discomfort, as his eyes bored into the boy's own dark brown orbs, clearly expecting an answer to his question straight away.

Peter, beginning to shake uncontrollably under his father's intense gaze, tried to calm his hammering heart in his chest as he struggled to form a coherent sentence.

"I-I-I'm sorry, Dad. I d-didn't r-realize-" He stammered, but was quickly cut off by the man, whose mind appeared to have glazed over as his enraged body language suggested that he was not taking in the increasingly distressed child in front of him.

"Just one fucking text, Peter! Just to let me know you've not been fucking kidnapped or something worse. HOW COULD YOU BE SO FUCKING STUPID?!" Tony fumed, roughly shaking Peter on his last few words, causing the small body to jostle harshly and a whimper, followed by a loud sob escaped the boy's lips at the cruel treatment.

The dam broke and sobs erupted from his chest, hot tears streaming down his face and Tony finally seemed to snap out of his rage as he took in the pitiful sight of his trembling kid, immediately releasing his iron grip on the child.

It was unlike Peter to not seek comfort from his father when he was hurting, as the billionaire had always been the constant warm presence in his life, showering the boy with praise and love whenever he had the chance, but this was a situation neither of them had experienced before. Of course, they had argued, like all parents and children do, but Peter had never seen his father this worked up and angry enough to explode and scream at him (even forgetting to filter his language like he usually did when he was with his son).

As soon as Peter was released, he turned and fled from the lounge to his room, where he slammed the door and launched himself onto the bed, allowing the duvet to smother his cries.

Tony took a few moments to calm his own racing heart, taking some deep breaths to soothe himself and he immediately cringed when it reminded him of the tricks he would use to soothe his child after a nightmare.

He couldn't believe how easily he had last his temper with his poor kid the moment the boy had walked through the door. Although he knew he had a right to be angry with Peter for being so careless, he was ashamed with how he had went about the situation, especially with all the swearing he had blurted out too in the heat of the moment. He felt sick to the stomach when he recalled the terror stricken expression Peter had on his baby face, something Tony had never had the misfortune to see; he was a father who was always there for his little boy, ever since the kid was a baby.

Thank God he had given up drinking shortly after Peter was born, otherwise he dreaded to think what long lasting mental and physical harm he could have inflicted on his innocent son.

Running his fingers roughly through his hair in frustration, he gripped the brown locks and gritted his teeth as guilt and regret flooded through him. He doubted whether Peter would forgive him after how he had just treated the boy.

Groaning aloud, he debated how to fix this mess and decided to give his son some space, even though the recent memory of his child's trembling, petrified state felt like a knife to his already bleeding heart. He wanted nothing more than to go to Peter's room and hold his kid close in his arms, press small kisses to the chestnut curls and tell him how much he loved him and how sorry he was. Instead, the billionaire reluctantly made his way down to the labs, every step away from his crying son feeling like multiple stabs to the heavy feeling in his chest.

...

An hour later, it was officially an hour past Peter's bedtime and Tony couldn't procrastinate in the lab anymore, not when he had a child to care for. He took a moment to wash his hands, the rough skin coated in oil, before taking the lift and sooner than he was ready for, he arrived at his son's bedroom door. He knocked, softly, before entering and his heart broke when his eyes locked on Peter's miserable form, lying on his stomach with his face buried in his arms. Tony sighed through his nose and approached the bed, carefully sitting down and crossing one leg underneath his body.

"Hey, bud. Would you sit up for me so I can talk to you properly?" The elder Stark spoke, quietly, refraining from touching the boy just yet, just in case Peter wasn't ready to speak to him. He was proven right.

"I don't wanna talk to you," Peter grumbled, tightening his fingers in the blue duvet and keeping his face buried in the pillow. The rejection physically hurt the man, but he didn't expect anything less after how he had treated his kid earlier.

"I know, Pete, I know. I was a huge douchebag and I never should have shouted at you and used some very naughty words that I don't want you ever repeating," Tony expressed, bracing his weight on his hand as he leaned closer to see his son's face. Peter peaked out of his homemade cocoon, one eye watching the man warily, revealing the glisten of tears on his eyelashes and a blotchy red cheek.

"You really scared me, I thought you were gonna hit me..." The young Stark muttered, his voice unnaturally high and cracking slightly under the high levels of anxiety and stress he was experiencing.

Tony scrunched his eyebrows together tightly for a moment to suppress his own tears. His son should never fear him and especially not feel like his father could physically hurt him. He reached out to soothe his child, to brush the soft locks away from his forehead, but he was heartbroken when Peter flinched away.

The boy covered his face with his hands, tears streaming down his face as he screamed, "No, no, please! I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, please don't hit me! No no no-" Tony wouldn't let him go any further, reaching across the distance between them and pulling his sobbing son into his strong arms, wrapping him up tightly and cradling him in his lap.

"Shh, shh, it's okay, baby, it's okay. Daddy's right here, honey, Daddy will never ever hit you, shh..." The man murmured in a repeated litany, rocking his child gently and softly kissing Peter's wet cheeks and fore-head between his soothing words.

The young boy finally began to calm down as he soaked up his father's comforting gestures and words.

"I'm so sorry, baby, I'm so sorry," the billionaire whispered, almost chocking on the lump in his throat as he felt his own tears spring to his eyes. He blinked them away stubbornly, nuzzling his kid's apple-scented hair and continuing his planting tender kisses across every inch of skin he could reach.

It took a few minutes, but eventually Peter went quiet, sniffling and letting out small hiccups as he gripped his father's shirt tightly and nuzzled his wet face in the crook of the elder's neck.

The scent of motor oil and expensive deodorant that always clung to Tony's skin comforted the boy and made him feel safe and protected. He was relieved that his father wasn't mad at him anymore and was affectionately cuddling him to stop him from crying, just like he always did.

The billionaire pulled back slightly after a few moments, gently holding his son's tired gaze and using his sleeve to wipe away the remaining tears sticking to his cheeks. The father smiled, the love for his child shining in his dark eyes and he combed his fingers through the chestnut locks to push the hair from his son's eyes.

"How you doing, kiddo?" He asked, quietly.

Peter sniffled and nibbled his lower lip, his grip on the man's grey t-shirt remaining tight. "I'm sorry I was late home, Dad. I know I should have texted you, I just - I -" Peter stammered, but Tony just chuckled fondly and pulled his son into a warm hug.

"Shh, Pete, it's alright. I'm not mad anymore," he reassured, raking his fingers through the boy's curls and rubbing his hand across the expanse of the scalp, soothingly. "I was just scared and I shouldn't have taken it out on you. I never want you to be afraid of me, bud," he admitted, pulling back. "But you're right though, just remember to text me next time, okay?" He smirked, playfully bopping his son's button nose and grinned when it scrunched up, adorably, Peter giggling and pushing his hand away.

"Okay, okay, I promise," the young Stark said, a huge grin appearing on his face and he launched forward to wrap his arms around his father's neck, squeezing tightly. "Love you, Dad."

Tony smiled and returned the gesture, lovingly, pressing a kiss to the side of his kid's head. "I love you too, honey. Now come on, let's head down to the lab for a bit. You don't have to be in school tomorrow, so I'm temporarily removing bedtime restrictions."

Peter giggled at this and pulled back, nodding excitedly at his father's idea. He loved tinkering in the lab with the man and it was even better when he was given permission to stay up late.

...

They ended up ordering pizza, more pizza than they knew what to do with and by midnight, Peter was propped up against one of Tony's Audis, feeling so full he could explode.

A half finished pizza box lay by his feet and the boy made a noise of disgust, gently kicking the savory snack away, scrunching his face up at the uncomfortable tight feeling in his belly. He didn't even notice when Tony returned from putting some leftovers in the kitchen fridge.

The billionaire, chewing on his last bite and dusting his hands of the flour, smiled fondly at the sight of his grumbling son. Definitely bedtime, Tony declared, walking over and gazing down at his kid.

"How you doing down there, kid?", he teased, hands on hips, knowing exactly how the youth was probably feeling.

Peter groaned, lowly, rubbing his sensitive stomach and squinting up at his father. "I'm dyingggg," he complained, words slurring under the pressure of his belly. Tony scoffed at this, reaching down to hook his hands under his son's armpits.

"Sure you are. Come on, up you come, big mouth," Tony heaved, lifting Peter and setting him down on a nearby table so that they were now at eye level. He rested his hands on either side of his son's thighs, leaning in close to study the boy, who was too exhausted to shift under his father's scrutiny. He scrunched his face up as he yawned, raising his arms above his head to stretch.

"'M tired, Dad," Peter mumbled, rubbing an eye with his balled up fist.

Tony chuckled, fondly, reaching up to push some hair from his face, smiling softly when the boy subconsciously lent into the touch.

"Time for bed for baby Petey," the elder quietly teased, heart warming when his son didn't even bite back; instead nodding lazily, reaching his arms out, childishly, in a silent request to be carried. Tony chuckled again, only too quick to comply with his son's request, reaching forward and lifting the boy into his arms. Peter was small and light for his age, so he rested comfortably in the man's hold, wrapping his arms around his father's neck and burying his face in the broad shoulder.

The boy let out another yawn, before nuzzling closer, his warm breath tickling Tony's skin and raising goosebumps, as he carried his child to his bedroom. He stepped into the lift and cuddled Peter closer, tilting his head to press a kiss to the boy's soft cheek.

The youth was already asleep by the time they reached the room; he always became docile and relaxed when he was in his father's arms. The billionaire gently lowered his son onto the bed and began carefully changing him into some comfy pajamas, but Peter didn't even stir until the man was lifting his legs so he could slide the duvet over him.

Peter squirmed slightly, curling his knees so they bumped into Tony's and squinting up at his father. "Dad-what's-" He murmured, deliriously, but the man shushed him, smoothing back his kid's curls.

"Go back to sleep, Pete, you're tired," Tony whispered, rising so he could pull the duvet up to his son's shoulders.

"Mm, okay..." Peter murmured, turning over onto his stomach.

The father bent to kiss the baby soft locks, inhaling the sweet smell of his shampoo one last time. "Love you, honey."

"Love you, Daddy..." Tony positively melted.

Chapter Text

Tony couldn't wait to get home, he was exhausted and sweaty and badly needed a shower. He had just finished battling a swarm of aliens and it took a couple hours to finally dispose of the beasts before the superhero was finally relieved of his duties, as he had a baby boy to get back to. He had to leave in a hurry; luckily Pepper was visiting whilst he was halfway through giving Peter a bath, so he had just enough time to call her up and press a quick kiss to his son's fuzzy, baby soft hair. 

The billionaire landed on the veranda, his bots whirling around him to remove the slightly damaged armor from his body. By the time he stepped into the open living area, he was left in the dark trousers and casual light blue top he had been wearing before the mission. The only visible differences were the numerous small cuts and scars on his face, as a result of flying metallic debris from explosions. He only had one destination, as he glanced at watch and realized that is was eight o'clock - Peter's bedtime. The elder Stark hoped he could check on his son before Pepper put him down for the night.

Luckily, his PA seemed to read his mind and a huge grin spread across his handsome features when Pepper came out of Peter's nursery, his baby swaddled in her arms. He was dressed in a navy pajama top and bottoms, a small red and yellow Iron Man helmet in the center of the shirt and his head was leaning, heavily, on Pepper's shoulders as he struggled to keep his eyes open. Pepper's tired expression morphed into one of relief when she and Tony made eye contact, although he eyebrows furrowed in concern when she saw the scars on the man's face. It was very typical of Tony to avoid taking of himself when he had something else on his mind. She rolled her eyes, halfheartedly, as she could see the longing in his dark chocolate eyes to hold his child; he often acted like this when he returned from a draining mission. 

"Peter, sweetie..." She murmured, turning her attention to the baby in her arms, gently bouncing him. "Look who's here, it's your Daddy, look..." Peter whined, softly, at the jostling and slowly raised his head, a small yawn escaping his little mouth, a high-pitched sound echoing around the hallway and causing the father's heart to swell at the adorable sight of his baby son.

He was delighted when the boy finally locked warm, gooey brown eyes with his own and a huge smile spread across the small face, as well as a happy squeak of "Daddy!" Peter stretched his little arms in Tony's direction, his tiny hands making grabbing motions and Pepper was more than happy to deposit the wriggling baby into his father's waiting arms. Tony playfully swung his son into the air, before bringing him down to blow a raspberry against the soft, chubby cheek. The gesture caused Peter to release an excited squeal at the scratchy feeling of his father's goatee against his delicate skin, bursting into a fit of giggles as he reached his arms out to pat at the man's cheeks in greeting.

"Hey, kid. That's right, Daddy's home now..." Tony spoke, his tone soft and warm like melted chocolate, leaning in to kiss the tip of his baby's nose, wincing slightly when Peter poked one of the more sensitive cuts. The elder Stark balanced his son against his chest and gingerly lifted the child's tiny hand off his face, his thumb stroking over the knuckles. "Easy there, Pete," he chuckled, lightly, but was stunned when Peter suddenly lurched forward and pressed a slightly slobbery kiss on that very same scar. 

"Daddy owie," the young Stark babbled, giggling at the dumbstruck look on his father's face and he wasn't the only one. Pepper was covering her mouth with a hand to stifle her laughter. A soft look crossed over the billionaire's face, as he lifted his baby up so his little legs were dangling underneath him and Tony smirked, mischievously, darting forward to kiss every inch of his baby's face in reply to the sweet affection from his kid. Peter shrieked, giggling uncontrollably and squirming uncontrollably in his father's firm hold, as the man's facial hair tickled his skin.

"God, I love you so much, baby," Tony murmured between kisses, before bringing his child's head to rest in the crook of his neck, running his hand over the baby's back to soothe him and rest his chin, lightly, on the chestnut tufts. "Thank you, Miss Potts. We're going to go lie on the couch for a while." He smiled at Pepper, gratefully, who appeared both amused and touched by the pair's playful antics. 

Tony shuffled over to the dark sofa in the main living area and carefully lay his baby on his back, whilst reaching for the hem of his shirt. Kangaroo care was one of his favorite activities to do with his son, as the feeling of Peter's warm body nuzzling against him, his tiny hands curling over his exposed chest, soothed a primal urge deep within him to keep his child safe and protected. The elder Stark discarded his top on the floor and gently lifted Peter's head, so he could remove the boy's shirt, Peter not kicking up much of a fuss at the movement as they did this so often. In fact, he released a small coo as he was lifted into his father's arms and the man knew his son well enough to interpret it as a happy sound.

Tony lay back on the cool leather and rested his baby on his naked chest, smiling softly when Peter immediately cuddled close, sleepy snuffles escaping from his small body. The billionaire placed his large hand on his son's bare back, his thumb gently caressing the soft skin and he dipped his chin down to drop a sweet kiss to the fuzzy head. "That's right, Pete, Daddy's not going anywhere. Go to sleep," Tony whispered, feeling his own eyes begin to droop as the events of the day began to catch up with him. He lay his head back and joined his son in a well-deserved sleep.

Chapter Text

It was a stormy, blustery night and Tony was grateful to be inside the Avengers Compound. He was staying there for a few days with Pepper and Morgan when their daughter begged them to let her see where the superheroes stayed and planned their missions. Both parents found her request so innocently charming that they were happy to indulge her; after all, Tony was no longer retired from his Iron Man duties after the final showdown with Thanos, so he'd be of more use to citizens if he were closer to the action anyway. He had just put Morgan to bed and Pepper had also retired early after a busy day of keeping their five year-old entertained, so he was standing in the spacious living area, drinking some hot cocoa and watching the rain hammer against the window.

"Incoming call from Peter Parker, Boss," Friday suddenly announced and the billionaire quickly lowered the mug from his lips as he was about to take a sip.

"Put him through, Fri," he replied, his heart skipping a beat as he wondered whether his spiderling was in the torrential downpour outside. If he was and he was calling...this couldn't be good.

"Tony?" The man tensed at the high-pitched, strained voice that rippled through the speakers and he instantly knew something wasn't right. Although, a small part of him instantly filled with warmth when the kid addressed him by his first name, something he finally started using shortly after the battle with Thanos. 

"I'm here, kid. What's up?" Tony asked, his heart beginning to beat faster as anxiety flooded through him.

"I-I got s-stabbed..." Peter heaved,  his voice breaking at the end as he seemed to struggle to hold in his cries and whimpers of pain. "I - I need help, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I d-didn't know what to do, I'm-"

"Hey, hey, Pete, slow down, shh..." Tony quickly cut him off, the teen's distressed and panicking tone tearing at his heart. "There's nothing to apologize for, I'm coming to get you," the elder reassured, already moving to dump his mug and tapping his watch to activate the nano tech suit. "Just stay on the line with me, kid. Are you safe where you are? Who did this to you?" Tony demanded, making his way to the hanger bay so he could take off and wincing at the crackle of the speaker in his ears, as the spiderling appeared to be shifting into a more comfortable position.

"It was a gang, t-they just robbed a house and I t-tried to stop them, but o-one of t-them had a knife and-and-" Peter hissed and cut himself off when his sobs overwhelmed him.

"Shh, don't focus on that now, Pete. I'm coming, kid, just hang on tight for me," the billionaire spoke, softly, even though his thoughts were going man and rage was bubbling through him at the idea of a group of thugs harming his kid, leaving him wounded in the middle of a storm.

"It hurts..." Peter whimpered and the tear in Tony's heart ripped just a little more. His kid needed him,

"I know, baby, I know. I'm almost there, just take some deep breaths for me and focus on my voice. Can you do that, bud?" Tony soothed, his parental side with Peter becoming a constant now, especially after all they had been through and having five years with Morgan, which ignited his fatherly instincts.

"Uh huh," the boy wheezed and the man continued to murmur comforting words until he finally reached the teenager's location.

The suit landed so hard on the pavement that the concrete cracked under his weight, but at least he had found his kid. His heart broke at the sight of Peter splayed out on the wet ground, his suit soaked through and half his mask off his face. There was a large bloody stain down the kid's side and he whimpered as Tony approached him, holding out his arms to the man in the universal gesture of 'hold me'.

"Hey, buddy," Tony cooed, placing a restraining hand on the boy's shoulder when he tried to move, wincing at the broken sob that reached his ears. "It's alright, it's alright, don't move. I've gotcha, kid," the man spoke, soothingly, gently moving his arms under Peter's legs and behind his back so he could carry him safely. He cringed at how cold the teen's body was, shivers wracking through him and vibrating against the elder's armor. Peter released a sharp cry of pain at the movement and Tony shushed him, gently.

"I'm sorry kid, we'll be home soon, just hang tight," he reassured, taking off and flying back to the Compound, holding his kid, protectively, in his arms for the whole journey.

...

By the time Tony reached the building, his suit was drenched in rain water and Peter had gone very quiet, probably passed out. He went straight to the rehabilitation room and carefully lay the teen on one of the beds, before retracting his suit from his body. The first thing he did was remove the Spiderling's suit.

"Fri, heating on maximum," he ordered, brushing the boy's damp curls from his face, whilst examining the wound, cautiously. He couldn't see anything stuck in there and the genius breathed a sigh of relief, as he reached into the cupboard for a gauze which he pressed firmly to the boy's side.

Unfortunately, the moment he touched the wound, Peter's eyes shot open and he immediately tried to move away from the pressure, a loud sob escaping his lips.

"Hey, hey, it's okay, Pete. It's just me," Tony reassured, gently but firmly pushing the teen back down again.

"Tony, s-stop, it hurts!" Peter cried, tears streaming down his face, but he made no attempt to move again, trusting his mentor to look after him.

"Shh, I know it does, baby," the man soothed, reaching up with his free hand to wipe at his kid's cheeks and cup his face, stroking his thumb across the wet skin.

"I've just gotta keep the pressure on to stop the bleeding until Bruce gets here," he said, grabbing his phone from his back pocket and ringing the mutant as soon as the words left his mouth, leaning the device against his shoulder to support it against his ear, so he could continue comforting his kid.

Peter nodded and tried to stop crying, which was easier to do when Tony began running his fingers through his hair and flashed him a reassuring smile, before Bruce answered. The warm hand in his hair and the gentle stroking of his scalp, as well as the soothing presence of his mentor caused him to drop off to sleep again.

...

Peter drifted in and out of consciousness, but Tony was always there and never left his side. A whimper escaped his lips when he felt a sharp scratch against his side, causing a wave of pain to spill over him at the unfamiliar sensation. He blearily opened his eyes to see Bruce Banner hovering beside him, applying an anaesthetic to his scar.

"Hey, Peter, it's alright. Just relax." Bruce smiled, kindly, at him when he realized the teen was awake.

"Where's Tony?" Peter asked, wincing at the hoarseness of his voice.

"Right here, kid," a soft, warm voice spoke close by him and he turned his head as he felt the dip of the bed, smiling in relief when Tony sat beside his upper body. The man resumed combing his fingers through Peter's curls, smiling down at him when the kid leaned into his touch. "How are you feeling?"

"Pretty sore," the boy admitted, wincing when there was pretty sharp tug at his side and he reached out to grasp at the hem of the billionaire's AC/DC shirt, twisting the fabric between his fabric.

"Sorry, Peter, just a few more," Bruce promised, seeing the Spiderling's reaction, but a tender expression crossed his features when Tony leaned down and affectionately kissed the boy on the fore-head.

"It's okay, Pete, we're almost done," he murmured into his kid's hairline and Peter relaxed completely under the man's comforting presence. It took a few more minutes for the stitches to be finished and Bruce began cleaning the wound, dressing it with clean bandages.

"Thanks, Bruce." Peter smiled, sleepily, at the mutant, who patted his shoulder in fondness of the young superhero, who was looking much younger than sixteen in this state, especially with a doting Tony Stark hovering above him.

"Make sure you keep him warm, Tony and he'll need a hot meal soon after being in that rain," Bruce informed the billionaire, knowing full well that his science bro wasn't going to leave the teen's side all night.

Tony smiled at him, gratefully, waving him off and chuckling at how cute his kid looked. He playfully tweaked Peter's nose, which scrunched up adorably, as he squinted up at the man.

"Hey, bud. Lemme just get a top on you and then you can go to sleep," Tony said, placing a hand behind Peter's back so he could lift him up enough to put one of his old hoodies over the boy. It was too big for him, but it would be loose enough so Tony could comfortably check the bandages during the night if he needed to.

Peter sighed in contentment, allowing himself to be manhandled without any fuss, his side no longer emanating the searing pain it had been before Tony picked him up; now more of a dull ache.

"Stay with me, Dad," he murmured, his eyes slipping closed so he didn't see Tony's face split into a huge grin at the endearment, but he did feel the man's coarse, warm hand tenderly brush the curls from his fore-head.

The billionaire happily complied with his kid's request, carefully maneuvering onto the bed so he wouldn't jostle Peter's injury and resting his back against the wall. The position was bound to give him a cramp and a sore back, but he didn't care - his kid's comfort came before his own.

He wrapped his arms around the boy and pressed a quick kiss to the top of Peter's head, before resting his cheek against the same spot, smirking when the teen shuffled into a more comfortable position, resting his head on the man's strong chest.

"I'm right here, Pete, not going anywhere," Tony chuckled, fondly, reaching for the blanket to pull over both of their bodies.

"Tony?" Peter quietly spoke up after a few peaceful moments of the elder just holding his Spiderling close.

"Hmm?" Tony hummed in acknowledgement, the sound sending vibrations through the boy's skull.

"I love you," Peter murmured, words slurring as he drifted off to sleep, nuzzling his face against the soft cotton of his mentor's shirt and breathing in the familiar scent of metal and expensive deodorant, which never failed to comfort him.

Tony paused rubbing soothing circles on Peter's back and a soft chuckle escaped him, his chest rumbling under Peter's ear.

"I love you too, kiddo," the billionaire whispered, tightening his arms round the boy, moving his head slightly to press an affectionate kiss to the teen's fore-head, letting his lips linger for a few moments. "Now go to sleep, bud, I'll be right here when you wake up."

Peter released a sleepy hum and he was out like a light in minutes, safe and warm in his mentor's protective arms.

Chapter Text

One of Peter's favorite films was Peter Pan. He and his father popped in the DVD and watched it religiously most weekends. He loved that the hero was a boy like him and shared his first name and he loved the adventures Pan and the Darling children had in Neverland - fighting pirates; hanging out with mermaids and the Lost Boys.

When the film was over and Peter had dropped off to sleep in his father's lap, the man carried him to his room and tucked him into bed and Peter was always reminded that he would never be like one of the Lost Boys as he had a parent that always be there for him and keep him safe. However, there was one time when he was frightened he had come close to being just like one.

It was an ordinary Saturday morning. Tony had taken Peter to the nearest shopping center to buy him a new lunchbox, as his old Iron Man themed one had to be thrown away when he'd forgotten to bring it home and his banana had been crushed from other boxes being piled on top of his. Peter had teased his father (who didn't bat an eyelash when the boy told him they had to buy a new one, being a billionaire, of course, and money was the last thing on his mind), suggesting that he may choose a Captain America one to replace it.

As always, Happy drove them in one of their black Audis and walked closely behind them once they emerged from the expensive vehicle, Tony taking hold of his son's hand as soon as they stepped out of the car. Peter laughed, happily, when the man playfully pulled him up with one hand when he was stepping over the curb. They went to the first convenience store they came to and at the back of the shop was a section for kids' backpacks and lunchboxes.

"What do you think, Pete? Another me?" Tony teased, holding out a red box with a sticker of Iron Man in action on the front.

Peter already owned a pajama set with his Dad on and he quite liked the idea of replacing one Iron Man themed one with another. He couldn't spot any others that he liked, so he agreed, getting slightly distracted by a boy a few years older than him, who was walking past with a Lego Star Wars figure. It was limited edition Boba Fett and he wanted his own for ages, so whilst his father and Happy were distracted with paying, Peter jogged over to where the boy had stopped to look at some Hulk themed curtains.

"Hi, where did you get that figure from, it's so cool! I love Star Wars too," he said.

"My Dad got it for me from the Lego store, it's on the first floor," the boy replied, looking at him a little strangely. "You're Tony Stark's son, aren't you?"

"Yeah, I'm Peter," Peter smiled.

"Whoa, cool!" The boy exclaimed. "My name's Jack, by the way, and I think your Dad is awesome! Is he here now?" Jack craned his neck, eyes darting around the store to try and catch a glimpse of the superhero.

"Yeah, he's just over there." The younger boy pointed towards the checkouts and Jack was already making his way over to introduce himself and Peter took his chance to slip away.

He knew his father was a very popular and famous public figure, having been exposed to the press for most of his young life, but sometimes he needed a break from all the attention the billionaire received. He did feel a bit guilty about leaving his family, but in his own young mind, the toy was the most important thing to him and he could be there and back before they realized he was gone, especially if he was very quick and Jack distracted them with his gushing.

Peter left the store and found the escalator taking shoppers to the next level of the mall, so he stepped on behind a middle-age couple and, true to Jack's word, the Lego store was just a few shops down once he reached the top. He was beyond ecstatic when he saw the Star Wars display in the store window and found what he was looking for in a matter of moments, grinning from ear to ear as he explored all of the collections.

"Hi, sweetheart. Are you here on your own?" A female worker asked him, a kind yet concerned smile on her young face.

"No, I'm with my Dad and my Uncle, they're in another shop," Peter said.

"Oh, you're Peter Stark, aren't you?!" She exclaimed, making the boy feel slightly uncomfortable when a few shoppers turned round to stare at him when the worker announced his celebrity status to the shop. He wasn't a celebrity, his Dad was. "Does your Daddy know you're here?"

Peter bit his lip and shook his head, heart beginning to pound in his small chest, so much so that he could almost see the muscle pumping against his grey hoodie. He was beginning to regret leaving his father now, as the man was always with him when strangers began to goggle at him and ask questions, as they were all starting to do now.

His breaths began to release in small bursts and his chest felt like it was closing in on itself, as some of the people decided to approach him and when the worker tried to speak to him again, he couldn't hear the words because of the rush of blood raging through his ears and he dashed out of the stop before anyone could stop him.

The young Stark roughly rubbed at his eyes to halt the flow of tears beginning to consume him. Stop acting like a baby, he chided himself, racing towards the escalators once more, as he hoped that his father hadn't already left the convenience store, but the large voice in his head screamed at him that there hadn't been a large queue when he had left, so it was more than likely Tony and Happy were both panicking now when they found out he'd run off.

To Peter's horror and confirming what the dark voice in his head had been saying, he couldn't find his family where he had left them and there was no sign of them in the rest of the shop. Jack and his father weren't there either and the tight feeling in his chest suddenly worsened, his heart skipping a beat as panic overwhelmed him.

The tears that he had been desperately trying to hold back sprung to his eyes and he brought a hand to his chest, trying his best to breathe deeply, just his Dad taught him to do after a nightmare. However, thinking of his father made him feel worse and a small sob escaped him as he helplessly scanned the area again with wide brown eyes.

"Oh honey, whatever is the matter?" An elderly woman asked and the use of the endearment caused him to cry harder as his father often affectionately addressed him like that.

"I-I've l-lost m-my Dad and I d-d-don't k-know where he is!" Peter sobbed.

The woman let out a small noise which resembled a coo and reached out to hold his hand. "It's okay, honey, it's alright. What's your name?"

"Peter," the boy croaked, sniffling and wiping away his tears with his free hand.

"My name is Esme, Peter, and we're going to find your father, don't worry." She gave his hand a comforting squeeze. "Can you tell me where you last saw him?"

"It was here. I went to the Lego store to look at the new Bobo Fett figure and I came back and-" Peter spurred words out like a waterfall was pouring from his mouth and he was starting to feel out of breath again when he panicked about his current situation.

"Hey, hey, it's okay, Peter, it's okay. Just take a few deep breaths  - in and out, in and out..." Esme reassured and he tried his best to follow her advice, even though it was the same way Tony calmed him when he was like this.

It only just occurred to him now that this kind old lady didn't recognize him and he wasn't sure how to feel about that, it was different to how he was usually treated by the general public, but a good different.

"My Dad is Iron Man, he's Tony Stark," Peter spoke after a few moments of concentrating on his breathing, which eased the tightness in his chest and stating who is father was aloud, caused warmth to spread through him as he thought of the man.

"Oh gosh, you lucky boy!" Esme laughed. "Don't worry, he'll still be around here somewhere. He wouldn't just leave the mall without you."

Peter smiled a little and nodded. Of course his Dad and Uncle Happy wouldn't abandon him. Peter knew he was very lucky to have them and he would give up all his Lego sets to be reunited with them again.

Esme suggested that they should retrace his steps first, so they walked up to the Lego store. Peter's heart soared and he released a huge sigh of relief when he saw his father speaking with the seller he had been talking to mere minutes ago. It was so busy in the center that they must have passed each other in the crowd when Peter had gone back to the convenience store.

"Dad!" The boy yelled and Tony immediately turned in the direction of the familiar voice, a look of raw relief crossing his features and he held his arms open for his son to run into. He caught Peter and lifted him into a warm, secure embrace, one hand supporting his child's weight underneath his bottom and the other bracing the back of the boy's head.

"Oh God, honey, don't ever do that to me again," Tony murmured into his baby's curls, holding the small body tightly and breathing the sweet scent of his child. "You fucking terrified me, kid."

"Daddy, you said a naughty word," Peter whispered, cuddling closer and nuzzling his face into the man's shoulder, breathing in the comforting smell of his father's deodorant and distinct metallic scent from hours of working in the Lab.

Tony chuckled, his chest vibrating against the boy's body, but the sound was empty and when his Dad affectionately kissed him on the cheek, Peter could feel a slight wetness against his skin.

"Sorry, Pete. I'm just so glad you're safe," the billionaire spoke, softly, running his fingers through the chestnut curls to soothe himself as well as his son. He pulled back after a few moments and Peter was shocked to see a few tears on his Dad's cheeks, the man's dark chocolate eyes intensely gazing into the boy's as he brought his hand round to cup his child's baby face, thumb caressing Peter's own damp cheekbone.

"Just please promise me you won't run off like that again, I can't take the strain, baby. You know I've got a heart condition," the billionaire joked, despite the serious look on his face, although his lips quirked into a teasing smirk and Peter smiled a bit, but he was more concerned about making his Dad feel happy again.

"I'm sorry I ran off, Daddy, I won't ever do it again," the boy spoke, quietly, reaching his own small hand to trace his fingers over his father's cheeks, wiping away the tears that had settled there. Tony chuckled at his child's innocent gesture and caught Peter's hand to press a kiss to his wrist.

"It's a good thing your friend is Iron Man's biggest fan," Tony chuckled, warmly, eyes sparkling with mischief and pure love for the boy in his arms.

"So Jack did talk to you!" Peter exclaimed.

"Yeah, he pointed me in the right direction," the man confirmed with a handsome grin.

"Where's Uncle Happy?" Peter asked.

"He's gone to chat with security, so I'd better let him know we've found his favorite nephew, eh?"

They didn't have a chance to ponder on that thought, as Happy suddenly appeared behind them, looking a little flustered, but just as relieved as Tony was when his eyes landed on Peter cuddled in the billionaire's arms.

"Hi, Uncle Happy!" Peter waved, a grin spreading across his face and his father placed him back on his feet so he could hug the usually grumpy driver.

"Hey, kid. We're gonna have to get a leash for you, aren't we?" Happy sighed, squeezing the child to his side, fondly, and the boy giggled at the man's obviously worn out expression.

"He's just going to have to make do with my hand for now, right Pete?" Tony spoke up, holding out his hand, which the young Stark happily latched onto. "Come on, I think we've had enough excitement for one day, don't you think?", the genius mused, tenderly brushing some hair from his son's eyes, smiling when the boy nodded and leaned into the touch.

They thanked Esme and the store worker and left to make their way home, Peter never letting go of his father the whole time and the Lego figure didn't cross his mind once.

Chapter Text

Peter Stark had a very bad day indeed, one of the worst he could remember having.

It all began with a series of small things, like missing the train, spilling water down his sweatshirt and turning up late to a class after he was let out late from the previous one. He was beside himself by the time last period swung by and even Ned couldn't cheer up when he told him about a Lego convention he's of not far from New York. To cap it all off, Flash had been bullying him non-stop ever since he set foot in the building. Ned told him to just ignore the teen, but it was hard when he kept at it all day and the young Stark couldn't get five minutes of peace.

As soon as he left Chemistry, he was grabbed by a couple of Flash's goons and he tried to fight, he really did, but he was much smaller and lankier than them.

"Hey, Penis Parker!" Flash teased, getting up in Peter's face and leering at him, nastily, causing the boy to wrinkle his face up in disgust. "This is for getting a grade higher than me in English, you dick!" The bully then dodged out of the way and before Peter could comprehend what was going on, he was chucked down the stairway by the teens holding him. He cried out in shock as he rolled down the stairs, banging his shins and grazing his face. He landed in a heap on the floor at the bottom, hissing and groaning in pain, curling into a ball and glaring up at the boys taunting him from above.

"And stay down there, you little shit, no body wants you! You're a waste of space, Parker!" Flash yelled and he and his goons finally left; Peter could hear them laughing all the way down the corridor. He lay there for a few more minutes, before slowly getting up, groaning as his back and chest ached in pain.

He sniffled and rubbed his eyes, trying to stem the flow of tears that we bubbling up there. I'm thirteen, Peter thought, I shouldn't be crying over something as stupid as this, I'm so pathetic, I should have fought better. Peter was entering his teenage years, yes, but he was still so young and he had just had one of the worst days of his life, he felt so small and weak and he just wanted his Dad to be there so he could feel the man's arms wrap around him in a safe, warm cocoon. He didn't want to call the man, because he knew Tony was in meetings all day and he felt too ashamed to phone him for something so embarrassing. 

Peter trudged out of the school, his head hanging low and his body throbbing as he could feel bruises starting to form across his pale skin. He was relieved when he finally arrived back at the Tower and had every intention of heading straight to his bedroom, but he was stopped by his father's voice. He instantly tensed up, his body hunching in on itself, not wanting his Dad to see him like this - what a pathetic failure I am compared to him, he thought miserably. 

"Hey, kid," Tony spoke, warmly, approaching the boy from the elevator he had just left. Of course, Friday would have informed the billionaire that he had arrived, Peter mused glumly. "How was school?" The voice was close now and Peter felt a warm hand on his back.

"Fine," the young Stark mumbled, keeping his eyes downcast and fidgeting with the hem of his sweatshirt.

"Hmm..." Tony hummed in thought, his hand skimming over the teen's shoulder and resting it on the boy's elbow, twisting his body round so he was semi-facing the man. "You don't sound fine to me, bud," Tony observed, tentatively, sensing that his son was in a fragile sense of mind because of his tone of voice and body language. "What's up?"

Peter shook his head, shrugging his arms out of his father's gently hold, even though he desperately craved the man's comfort, wrapping the sleeves of his hoodie around his own torso in a poor attempt to self soothe. "Nothing, it doesn't matter," the boy said, still not meeting the man's concerned eyes. "I'm going to my room." He made to go in the direction of his bedroom, but was stopped by firm hands on his shoulders.

"Nope, neda, no way - you aren't going anywhere until you tell me what's wrong," Tony ordered in his signature 'Dad voice', as Peter called it, cupping his son's chin and raising his head so he could look into those misty chocolate brown eyes. "You know you can talk to me about anything, right kiddo?" Tony spoke, tone gentler now as he examined his child's miserable expression.

Peter swallowed around the lump in his throat, tears springing to his eyes and the dam he had built up since leaving school finally broke as his gaze met the unconditional love displayed on his father's face. A loud sob escaped from his mouth and he leaned into the warmth of the man's touch.

"Dad..." He whined, desperately seeking his Dad's comfort and protection and he surged forward, his injuries forgotten, as he gripped the back of the billionaire's expensive black suit, burying his face in the elder's shoulder.

Tears streamed down his cheeks and sobs erupted from his chest, but he instantly began crying in relief when Tony immediately reciprocated the hug, holding his kid close and running his hand up and down the boy's back to soothe him, tilting his head against his son's to provide as much comfort as possible.

"Shh, let it all out, Pete. It's just you and me, kid, I'm right here..." Tony whispered, heart breaking when he could feel the wetness of Peter's tears seeping into his suit jacket. It took several minutes for his son to stop crying, reduced to small hiccups and sniffles as his breathing eventually began to even out. Tony gently pulled the teen back, hands slipping from his back to cup his child's face, thumbs stroking the remaining tears away.

"Do you want to tell me what got you so worked up, honey?" The billionaire asked, his smile affectionate and dark chocolate eyes swimming with tender concern and love.

Peter wet his lips, his eyes swollen and red from crying. "I just had a really bad day," he spoke, voice coarse and croaky and he cleared his throat, before continuing. "Flash...he...he pushed me down the stairs and he made feel so useless...so worthless...like I mean nothing to no-body..." His breath hitched and he struggled to keep his sobs at bay and his father clearly knew this, as he kissed his fore-head and pulled him into a warm hug. Peter hid his damp face in the man's neck and soaked up his Dad's soothing words like a sponge.

"Listen to me, Pete. Don't ever think that you are worthless or wanted, whatever that fu...that creep said to you, he was wrong," Tony murmured into his kid's hair, combing his rough fingers through the soft curls. "You're the most important thing in my life, don't ever doubt how much I love you, baby."

The genius leaned back to kiss both of his son's red cheeks, causing the boy to release a quiet giggle at the tickle of his father's goatee and it was like music to the man's ears. "There's that million dollar smile," Tony announced, triumphantly, his own face splitting into a pleased grin.

"I love you too, thanks Dad," Peter said, smiling warmly. Tony released his son's face to rub his hands up and down the boy's arms in a soothing gesture.

"I'm going to run you a warm bath and make some grilled cheese, sound good, kiddo?" The man suggested with a playful wink. A warm bath sounded perfect to appease the ache of Peter's bruises, so he happily agreed. 

...

The young Stark released a moan of relief when he relaxed into the bathtub, the hot water soothing his bruises. He grimaced when he glanced down at his body and saw a large one on his shin and there was a couple of purple marks on both arms. He stayed submerged for half an hour, before deciding to pull the plug and get dressed, leaving the steamy en suite and smiling when he saw Tony had laid out a pair of fresh, clean pajamas for him.

He pulled the maroon bottoms on and the navy t-shirt, before shamelessly making his way to his father's bedroom to take one of the man's old grey hoodies. He brought the sleeves up to his face and inhaled his Dad's unique scent, knowing that the sleeves were too long for him, but he needed the comfort tonight.

Peter made his way to the kitchen and his stomach rumbled, his mouth watering when the delicious smell of grilled cheese drifted towards him. 

"Hey, bud. Go sit down, I'll bring these over," Tony called from where he was crouched in front of the oven and Peter didn't miss the smirk on his father's features when he saw the boy dressed in his hoodie, the sleeves hanging off his arms and hem resting past Peter's waistline. The genius had also changed into a pair of pajamas - grey joggy bottoms and a black top.

Peter collapsed on the sofa, tucking his knees to his chest and resting his chin on them as he stared at nothing in particular. Tony joined him a few minutes later, carrying a plate of grilled cheese for his son and a hot cocoa for himself. The teen happily tucked in and the whole plate was gone in no time and he bent forwards to place it on the coffee table, but in the process the over sized sleeve rolled up and exposed the bruise on his fore-arm.

"What the hell is that?!" Tony exclaimed, dumping his mug on the table and gently holding grasping Peter's arm to push his sleeve up and inspect the size of the bruise.

"Oh, it's just when Flash pushed me..." Peter mumbled, too embarrassed to look his Dad in the eye, who was inspecting his skin with tender concern, running his coarse fingers, lightly, over the mark.

"Why didn't you say anything?" Tony asked, tapping under his son's chin with his finger to encourage the boy to make eye contact.

Peter hesitantly raised his gaze to his meet his father's and he was taken aback by the warm, gooey look in his father's eyes, full of love and affection. He smiled, reassuringly, the bruises didn't bother him anymore, not when he had his Dad there to make everything better like he always had done.

"It's fine, Dad, really. I've only got a few and they don't even really hurt that much anymore, the bath definitely helped," the teen said, heart fluttering when Tony didn't stop slowly caressing his skin with his warm, rough hands as he spoke.

The billionaire released an exasperated sigh through his nose and shook his head, leaning down to press his lips to the bruise, moving to place another soft kiss to the spot, before lifting his head up.

"Okay, if you're sure, honey," he spoke, then quirked an eyebrow, a smirk spreading across his face. "I could always get Friday to tell me where that little shit lives, show him what my Iron-"

"No, Dad, I'm fine!" Peter laughed, playfully shoving the man's arm. "I'll just tell the Principle tomorrow, he'll sort it out."

Tony smiled at this, pride searing through him as he gazed at his kid. He knew Peter would be a better man than him. This boy was too mature for his own good sometimes, but the next thing that came out of his son's mouth reminded him that the boy still had a few more years to go until he was really grown up - he was still Tony's little boy.

"Anyway, if you go, we can't cuddle!" Peter beamed, already crawling on top of his father, who had no choice but to recline until his back hit the armrest, chuckling at his kid's endearing innocence. 

Peter wrapped his lanky arms around the man's torso and rested his curly head on Tony's sturdy chest, nuzzling his face into the soft cotton of his shirt and finding comfort in the steady thumb of his father's heartbeat against his ear.

"Comfy?" Tony asked, sarcasm dripping through his voice, as he raked his fingers through Peter's hair, untangling small knots as he went.

"Mhm, very..." The boy hummed and Tony chuckled again, using his free hand to lift his son's body a little higher up his chest, so Peter's curls were almost tickling his nose.

It took less than ten minutes for the teen to fall into a peaceful slumber and the billionaire glanced down from scrolling through his phone, to smile softly at the sight. He leaned down to press his lips to his kid's hair, breathing in the sweet scent of his son's apple shampoo.

"I love you, Peter. I love you more than anything," Tony whispered into his child's curls and closed his eyes. Everything was as it should be.

Chapter Text

"Come on, Peter, you can do better than this!" Captain America sighed, heavily, lowering his hands to his hips and giving the teen a firm stare. "You're not focusing on your foot work enough."

Peter huffed and grumbled under his breath in frustration. They were currently in the gym in the middle of a training session, as Peter was the youngest member of the Avengers and the more experienced members naturally gravitated towards him to offer their knowledge and skills.

Of course the spiderling appreciated the attention, but he was still a kid at the end of the day, he couldn't always live up to the responsibility his powers demanded of him. Usually he'd be practicing with Tony, but his mentor was in a business meeting so Steve Rogers offered to cover for him, who Peter deeply admired and respected but didn't get on as well with as he did with Tony (probably because they were from different time periods and Rogers could be a little overbearing at times, whereas Tony was the laid-back, easygoing type). 

"Peter? Are you even listening?" Steve interrupted him from his thoughts, the man's tone stern and tinged with irritation as the young superhero's teenage side was beginning to make itself known.

"Sorry," Peter sighed, tiredly, relaxing his stance. "I guess I'm not in the right mood."

"You've got to keep at it, otherwise we won't get anywhere," Steve lectured, holding his fists up again and spreading his legs into an attack position.

The boy reluctantly adopted a similar pose, his heart certainly not in training today, as he was experiencing a lot of stress with school recently and, for once, Spider-Man wasn't his first agenda.

The duo began sparring again as soon as Peter lifted his arms, but it was becoming very clear that the boy wasn't putting in his usual amount of effort and Rogers was visibly becoming more fed up at this, thinking his student was purposefully screwing around. 

"Come on, Peter! Focus!" Steve yelled and Peter only just managed to dodge a harsh kick to the shins.

The next time he opened his eyes, he couldn't prepare himself for the next hit that came his way and now it was a rock hard fist slamming into the side of his head. A sharp cry of pain escaped his lips as the force of the blow instantly caused his eyesight to blur and black out, his body heavily collapsing onto the hard gym floor.

Steve stood in shock for only a moment, before his instincts kicked in and he darted towards the unconscious boy, gently shaking his shoulder.

"Peter? Peter, can you hear me?" He asked, concern etching over his features as he examined the large red gash near Peter's left eye, which was already beginning to turn purple.

When the teen didn't reply, the superhero wasted no time in calling Bruce Banner and tentatively lifting Peter into his strong arms. Whilst he was on his way to the rehabilitation room, he made sure to text and leave a voice mail for Tony, knowing the man cared for the boy and would want to see him immediately. 

...

Rogers was aware that Tony Stark and Peter Parker had a special relationship of sorts, but he hadn't anticipated just how fiercely protective the genius could be over the teen. Steve was in the medical room, hovering next to the bed Banner had instructed him to place Peter in, who was carefully examining the boy's wound.

A loud bang caused both adults to jump slightly at the sudden loud noise echoing around the room and Steve could picture the door to the corridor outside slamming against the wall, before a furious Tony Stark stormed in.

"Rogers, get the hell away from my kid!" The billionaire thundered, marching straight to the bed and roughly pushing the man away from Peter's sleeping form. Tony was still dressed in the same black suit he had been wearing at the meeting, with a red tie to compliment the outfit, so he had obviously traveled straight from the office. 

"Tony, I'm so sorry, I -" Steve began, but wasn't able to get any further as the genius spun round and pinned him with a fierce glare, obviously restraining himself from storming over to the other man and knock him flying and a fleeting image of a mother bear protecting her cubs passed through Rogers' mind. 

"Cap, I swear to God, if you say one more fucking word..." Tony seethed, his voice dangerously low, dark chocolate eyes ablaze with fury and fists clenched at his sides.

He managed to calm down a bit thanks to Bruce laying a hand on his shoulder, a silent form of support. "Just go," the billionaire eventually said, releasing an exhausted sigh, but a slither of relief ran through him when Steve reluctantly complied with his request. 

Tony tore his gaze back to Peter, his expression instantly dissolving into one of tender affection when his eyes landed on the boy. He cupped the side of the teen's uninjured face and bent down to press a couple of kisses to Peter's soft cheeks, thumb caressing the cheekbone, before gently resting his fore-head against the boy's.

"Don't worry, Tony, it's not as bad as it looks," Bruce spoke, reassuringly, grabbing some bandages from the cupboard. "It's just a concussion, he'll probably have a killer headache when he wakes up but there's no long term damage."

Tony only nodded and rose from his crouching position, so Bruce could carefully lift Peter's head and wrap the bandage round the wound, the billionaire watching with an intense, attentive gaze (definitely mama bear ready to pounce if her cub let out even a tiny noise of discomfort, Bruce smugly thought). His lips quirked into a touched smile when the genius gently stroked the boy's cheek with the back of his calloused fingers.

"There, all done!" Bruce announced after a few moments. "It shouldn't be long before he wakes up, there's some pain killers on the side there." He pointed out, going over to the sink to wash his hands. "I'll give you some space."

"Wait," Tony spoke up before the mutant could leave. "Find Cap for me...just tell him -"

"I know, Tony," Bruce chuckled. "Don't worry, he'll understand. We all think it looks good on you.", he added, quirking an eyebrow in amusement. 

"What does?" The billionaire asked, confusion spreading across his features at the cheeky smirk on his friend's face. 

"Being a Dad, Tony," the mutant laughed, shaking his head at the man's dumbfounded expression, as if he couldn't see the obvious. "You dote on that kid's every word, we all know how much he means to you - it's no secret," he said. "Steve gets it."

Tony smiled warmly at this, only just now realizing how often he displayed his affection for Peter in front of the other Avengers. He'd saw Peter as his son for a while now, he just began treating him like it and often forgot when they had company. "Thanks, Brucie. I'm gonna stay with him for a while."

"Never doubted it, Tones," the mutant winked and quietly left the room, closing the door behind him. 

Tony's smile never left his face as he fondly thought over their conversation and he glanced down at Peter again, a soft expression crossing his face when he realized how small and young the kid really looked.

He sluggishly removed his tie, never taking his eyes of the sleeping boy, before carelessly discarding the cloth and gingerly climbing onto the bed. He rested against the wall, wrapping his arms around the teen, who unconsciously leaned into the man's hold, resting his head on Tony's sturdy chest.

The billionaire chuckled. "That's right, baby. Dad's got you..." He murmured against the boy's cheek, before pressing a kiss to the same spot.

Peter nuzzled against his lips, turning his head into his mentor's warmth and protection and a loving smile spread across the man's face, as he cuddled his kid closer to himself - where no one could ever hurt him.

Chapter Text

When Peter came back from being dusted, the most Morgan knew about the teenage superhero was that he was in a photo with her Daddy.

She would often see him in the kitchen after they had dinner, hunched over the desktop and staring at the carefully framed picture for what seemed like hours. She thought it looked very boring, but one time, when she snuck out of bed one night, she saw her Daddy crying and her Mummy had taken her back to bed, telling her that Daddy needed to be on his own for a bit. Morgan didn't understand how a photograph of Daddy and a boy smiling could make him cry like she did when she fell over or was sick with the flu.

The next day, when Morgan was playing in her fort outside, her Daddy came and gave her a big hug, holding her for a little bit longer than usual. He took her inside, gave her a chicken nugget sandwich and then sat her on his lap, showing her the photo. Daddy told her that the boy's name was Peter Parker, he was sixteen years-old and he was her brother. She was very sad that her Daddy was sad, but when he spoke about the boy in the picture, his face lit up like a Christmas tree.

She liked Peter because he made her Daddy smile, but he wasn't there to see it...until now.

Peter Parker came round to the Lakeside Cabin many times after he returned.

He spent a lot of time with Morgan's father, like working on improvements for Peter's cool spider suit or watching TV. She liked Peter a lot, because he could stick to things and he often dangled from the ceiling to spook their parents when they were relaxing on the sofa, but the thing Morgan liked the most about him was that he always found the time to play with her when he stayed over. They mostly played superheroes outside and sometimes he would hang from a branch on the tree and let her swing on his arms.

She knew he wasn't really her brother now, as the first time Peter stayed over and when he was walking out of the door, Morgan cried and hugged the boy round the waist commanding him to stay, but her Daddy explained to her that Peter had an Aunt May he needed to go back to.

Daddy hugged Peter a lot when he came over and kissed him goodnight, just like he did her, and one time, Daddy told Peter he loved him when Peter had a nasty dream after falling asleep on the sofa, so Morgan knew the boy in the photo was and always would be her brother. 

One weekend, Peter was staying at the cabin and he didn't seem as happy as he usually was. He still played with Morgan and read her a story, but he didn't speak much apart from that.

She was too young to know that Peter had recently had one of the most emotionally challenging fights of his life with a man who had hated their father and had exposed Spider-Man's secret identity to the world. Tony and Pepper agreed with May that it would be best for Peter to go under the radar until things with the press died down, so Morgan wasn't aware that he would be staying with them for the foreseeable future.

It was the Saturday evening and Tony, Peter and Morgan were lounging on the sofa in the living room watching The Incredibles, whilst Pepper was in the city working to try and calm the craze down a bit. The elder was sat in the middle with a bowl of popcorn in his lap so his children could help themselves and Morgan was quite happily chatting away when the best scenes came along, but Peter was very quiet.

Pretty soon, the sequence where Syndrome reveals his identity to Mr. Incredible came round and Tony nearly jolted out of his seat when a hand suddenly gripped his knee, squeezing the fabric painfully tight. 

The billionaire's head spun and his heart dropped when he took in Peter's pale complexion, wide brown eyes and staggering breathing. He was looking at the TV, but there was a glazed, far off look in his eyes and Tony immediately knew that the kid was having a panic attack.

"Morg, honey, pause the film for me," Tony said, softly, but urgently as he lay his calloused hand on top of Peter's. "Pete, can you hear me?" He asked, studying the teen's white face closely, whose eyes were beginning to fill with tears.

"What's wrong with Petey?" Morgan demanded, when her father swiftly moved the snack bowl to the coffee table and rushed to crouch in front of the boy.

"He's going to be fine, sweetie, just let Daddy focus," the genius murmured, calmly, so he could protect his five year-old from something that he knew first-hand could be a traumatic event.

He cupped the sides of Peter's face, gently guiding the boy's gaze to his own. "Hey kid, you're alright. I need you to take a deep breath in..." He inhaled, deeply, encouraging Peter to imitate his actions by grasping the kid's chin tightly. "...and out, Pete, copy me." He used his thumbs to swipe away the rapidly falling tears, as Peter steadily began to control his breathing. 

Tony realized it had gone quiet apart from Peter's gasping and small whimpers, which only meant one thing. He tore his gaze from Peter for a moment to find Morgan had disappeared, but she was soon running back into the room again. She clambered onto the sofa beside the teen.

"I got Daddy's bear for you," she chirped, holding up her Iron Man cuddly toy and Tony melted at the innocence of her compassionate gesture. 

The elder released Peter's face when the boy glanced at the teddy, his bottom lip trembling but his breathing finally sounding normal again. Peter sniffled and wiped his eyes, a small smile quirking at his lips as he reached forward to run his fingers over the fur. He pulled Morgan into his lap and wrapped his arms round her and the toy, burying his face in her dark hair. It smelt like strawberries and cream.

"Thanks, Morg," he murmured, squeezing her tightly. 

She pulled back after a few seconds and cupped his cheeks with her small hands, an adorably serious expression on his face. "Love you, Petey," she said.

Peter chuckled and leaned forward to kiss her fore-head, affectionately. "Love you too, squirt." He bopped her on the nose, fondly, causing her to giggle at the playful gesture and settle herself more comfortably on his lap, grinning impishly at her father, who was watching the pair with soft eyes.

"I made Petey happy, Daddy," she announced, unaware that he had been observing them intently for the past couple of minutes. 

Tony chuckled and lay a hand on Peter's knee, whilst reaching forwards to stroke his daughter's dark hair. "Yeah, you did, baby. I'm so proud of you, of both of you," he said, gaze trailing to Peter, whose eyes were still red and he looked exhausted, but he returned the smile and cuddled Morgan closer.

It didn't take long for the little girl to fall asleep after the excitement, holding the toy to her chest and nuzzling her sweet face into the teen's pajama top. The boys had turned the film off and played a random documentary to encourage her to drift off.

"She clonked out?" Tony asked, as he stretched his stiff limbs from being sat down for so long. 

"Yeah," Peter answered, quietly, a smirk tugging at his lips as he glanced down at her. He looked back up at Tony when the man brushed his coarse fingers through his curls.

"Let's get her into bed," Tony suggested and Peter nodded, carefully lifting Morgan and heading towards her bedroom, closely followed by the genius.

They tucked her in and both placed a kiss on her fore-head, before the billionaire placed a steady hand on the small of Peter's back and guided him to his own room across the hall. Tony was still concerned about the boy's anxiety attack before, but he wanted to make sure his youngest wouldn't be exposed to the conversation they were about to have. 

Tony pulled back the baby blue duvet and Peter released a quiet scoff, raising an eyebrow at his mentor. "You don't have to tuck me in. I'm not Morgan." he laughed.

"You're still my kid," the man quirked, causing Peter's heart to swell with warmth. Tony patted the pillow and gestured with his head. "Come on, Pete," he coaxed and Peter didn't need asking twice, shuffling over and collapsing onto the mattress, rolling onto his back as Tony pulled the cover up to his chin. 

Peter knew why his mentor was pampering him like this, but he was so moved by the man's fatherly gesture that it compelled him to speak.

"I was thinking of Beck," he admitted, quietly, a warm sensation spreading through him when the billionaire knelt beside the bed and crossed his arms on the duvet near the boy's head. "I know it's dumb, I've seen that film plenty of times but it just made me think of him and what he made me see..."

Tony winced in sympathy, knowing that the supervillian wouldn't have manipulated Peter if it wasn't for his negligence. "It's not dumb at all, bud," he assured, reaching forward to brush his fingers through his kid's hair. "Everyone has their triggers, it's nothing to be ashamed of. I still struggle to put my head underwater when I'm in the shower, but you don't think any differently of me, do you?"

"No, of course not. It doesn't change who you are, you're Iron Man. You're the best guy I know." Peter didn't hesitate to answer, knowing that Tony had suffered the effects of waterboarding when he was held hostage by the Ten Rings.

The way the kid was gazing at him with so much trust and admiration in his eyes caused Tony to become overwhelmed with emotion as he stared at his brilliant son. 

"God, I love you, kid," he chocked out, leaning forward to press a kiss to Peter's temple, then proceeded to scatter them all over the boy's face. Peter giggled at the scratchy feeling of the man's goatee, heart blooming at the outright display of affection from his mentor - his Dad in every sense of the word.

"I love you three thousand," Peter murmured, slyly, knowing full well that it was Morgan's saying and Tony chuckled as he lent back, smiling warmly. 

He reached for the lamp switch and turned off the light. "Give that smart brain of yours a rest," he joked and Peter could see the outline of the man's shoulder as he bent over him one last time to kiss his fore-head, before making his way  to the door.

"Night," Peter called out, rolling onto his side, feeling warm and content as sleep began to consume his body.

"Night night, kiddo. See you in the morning." Tony's dark silhouette in the doorway was the last thing he saw before he closed his eyes. 

Chapter Text

It was no secret that the genius, billionaire and superhero, Tony Stark, was a father. It was impossible for such a prolific public figure to hide such an integral part of his personal life, so Peter Anthony Stark was introduced to the world a couple months after he was born.

No-body knew who the mother was and Tony preferred to keep it that way; she was a one-night stand which escalated into something more when she discovered she was pregnant with the child of one of the most famous faces on the planet, but she died giving birth to a healthy baby boy and when the billionaire was informed that he was the biological father, he knew that he couldn't leave a child fatherless, no matter how unprepared he felt.

The creation of Peter was an accident, but a happy one and certainly not a 'mistake', as the press first labelled the baby when his existence was announced to the world. After the news story went worldwide, Peter was kept out of the public eye as much as possible and only made the odd social media post when the holidays came round or if it was Peter's birthday. Tony wanted to give his son as normal a life as possible, even with a billionaire for a father, he didn't want to inflict the same lonely childhood on Peter as he had endured. 

It was the young Stark's third birthday today and, as per the genius' yearly promise, a few photographers had been given permission to come to the Malibu mansion and take pictures of the two, so the public could celebrate Peter's birthday. That wasn't the only reason members of the press were quick to jump on the billionaire's offer, of course, as no one in their right mind could turn down the chance the interview Iron Man - the inclusion of the celebrity's cute toddler was a bonus.

It was around one in the afternoon when Tony admitted a group of photographers into his home. It was a beautiful sunny afternoon, the perfect photo shoot conditions and the genius was dressed in a casual thin cream jumper, the sleeves rolled up to the elbows, dark grey trousers and trainers. He'd clothed Peter in a light blue t-shirt, white shorts and socks, the bright colours bringing out his doe dark chocolate brown eyes and mop of fluffy chestnut curls. He was the sweetest little boy Tony had ever laid eyes on; he knew he was biased, but Peter was just perfect in every way, he was bright (just like his Dad), playful and well-behaved and the billionaire loved to show him off every once in a while. 

"Hi, Mister Stark, pleasure to meet you." A young man shook his hand with a beaming smile. "I'm Jake and this is Sarah, Andy and Tom." He gestured to a young woman with a blonde ponytail, a middle-aged man with glasses and another man who appeared to be in his thirties, with hazel curly hair.

"Afternoon," Tony greeted, rubbing the back of his neck as he surveyed the group. They all seemed genuine enough to him, he'd had plenty of bad dealings with the press in the past before and the last thing he wanted was his innocent son being exposed to the potential consequences of that.

"Is there anything specific you want-", he began to ask, but was abruptly interrupted by an all too familiar small voice from behind.

"Daddy, where'you?" Peter spoke from the living area and he toddled round the corner to come to stumble right into the limelight of the film crew; Sarah released a quiet gasp and cooed at the adorable little boy.

It was clear from the big brown eyes that this was Tony's child, there was no mistaking it. Of course he couldn't be anyone else's. Peter released a small whine of distress at having so many eyes suddenly on him, his small face scrunching up as if he was about to burst into tears, but the child's father was already surging forward to scoop his baby up into his arms.

"Right here, honey, it's alright..." Tony spoke, quietly, into his son's apple-scented baby soft curls, holding the boy against his hip. He sought the liquid chocolate brown of his child's eyes and he softly kissed Peter's cheek to calm him.

Peter had lifted a thumb to his lips, where he was sucking it to soothe himself and Tony gently pulled the digit from his son's mouth, it wasn't a habit he wanted the kid to rely on for comfort when he had his Daddy right there.

"Remember I told you about the people coming to take pictures of us, Pete?" He asked and received a small nod in return, so he continued. "Well, that's them, we're just gonna do our own thing and you don't have to be scared, okay?"

Peter still looked anxious, so Tony leaned in to blow a huge raspberry on his smooth cheek, causing the boy to explode into a bout of laughter and the man grinned when he got his kid to smile again. 

As promised, the photography crew were quite happy to observe the Starks going about their everyday activities, so Tony placed Peter on the cream rug where his toys were, before lying on his stomach to play with him and distract him enough so that he would forget there were people watching them.

Tony wasn't fazed by the onlookers seeing as he had grown up in the spotlight and it had just become a daily part of his life. It was soon becoming apparent to the team that their subjects were close to completely forgetting they were there, as the elder Stark was far too busy doting on his son, an adoring smile on his face the entire time and sparkling dark eyes filled with unconditional love. It melted the crew's hearts. 

"Where are the cars going, Pete?" Tony asked, handing the red one to his son so he could roll it on the carpet.

"To 'da shop, d'ay off to buy sweeties and new cloves, d'at's Uncle Happy..."-the green car-"...dat's Uncle Woady..."-the blue one-"...and dis is us!" Peter explained in the best way he could with limited vocabulary, his childish lisp was something Tony was well used to, but caused the filmmaker's to gush at in the corner. Tony beamed with pride at his son's active imagination and, like his father, was already beginning to display signs of his genius mind at an early mind. 

"That's very good, bud. Can you tell me what colours they are?" Tony asked.

Peter observed the toys for a few seconds, his expression morphing into his 'thinking face', as Tony fondly called it, before correctly naming each one. "Wed, blue and gween."

"Oh really?" The elder Stark feigned ignorance, raising an eyebrow and tapping the red car which Peter was still holding. "This one isn't lelo?", he teased, mimicking the way his kid would pronounce the word. 

"No!" Peter giggled. "You silly, Daddy!" He ran the car over his father's face, his childish way of scolding the man for poking fun at him. Tony closed one eye as the wheels ran over it and he took the opportunity of Peter getting distracted to quickly dart forward, his large rough fingers slipping underneath the t-shirt and darting across the sensitive skin of his son's chubby tummy. 

Peter squealed in delight, dropping the car in shock and rocking onto his back, his little legs kicking and giggles erupting from the back of his throat, as his father crawled forward to hover over him. Tony lifted the top so he could bring his lips to his child's belly and blow plenty of loud, wet raspberries there, ignoring the boy's persistent kicking and squirming.

"Daddy, stop! Don' eat me!" Peter cried, chocking on his laughter, the happy squeals echoing around the room.

"Mmm, but you taste so good, Petey Pie!" Tony growled, playfully, his teeth gently nipping and grazing against his son's soft skin, causing Peter's helpless struggles to increase.

The billionaire soon ceased the onslaught, aware of the many stunned gazes that were on them and he didn't want to wear his kid out completely. He pulled Peter's shirt back down, smirking at the cherry red blush that had crept across his son's face and he leaned down to press a sweet kiss to his baby's hot cheek.

The wide, affectionate smile never left his face as he gazed down at his giggling child, who held his little arms up to his father in a silent request to be held.

Tony chuckled, fondly and scooped his son up into his arms, placing one last hand on his back as he stood. The genius rubbed his hand up and down his baby's back, as the boy relaxed into the familiar hold, nuzzling his curly head into his shoulder, as Tony approached the film crew, a rather bashful expression crossing his handsome features.

All four of them were speechless and appeared to be in a state of awe, clearly surprised with the billionaire's shameless displays of loving affection for his son, but they all seemed deeply touched by the clear devotion the father had for his child. It was clear the two shared a strong bond and the photographers knew that they had just witnessed something special, something that was intimately shared between the Starks. 

"How are we doing?" Tony asked, quite amused at the dumb-struck expressions on the crew's faces.

Jake was the first to speak. "This is all looking perfect, Mister Stark, just perfect." He grinned and the others nodded in agreement, sharing a pleased smile. "What would you and Peter like to do next?"

Tony shifted his gaze to his son and gently guided his head away from his shoulder. Peter's thumb had found its way back to his mouth, which he was sleepily sucking on as he raised tired brown eyes to his father's identical ones.

Tony softly patted Peter's bottom and murmured, "You tired, honey?"

Peter hummed around his thumb and nodded in confirmation.

"Okay." The billionaire smiled and turned to the crew. "I've got to put him down for a quick nap, so do you want to have a chat with me whilst he's down?"

"Sure, not a problem!" Jake said. "We'll get everything set up."

Tony carried Peter to his bedroom, which was full of toys and in the corner was Peter's small bed shaped like a car. He also had an Iron Man teddy which was propped up on the baby blue pillow.

Tony lay his son down on the cream carpet, smiling softly as the boy seemed perfectly happy to let his father manhandle him and change him out of his smart clothes, into his Iron Man themed pajamas. Tony lifted Peter and pulled back the duvet to place his son's small, warm body into the bed. He knelt beside him and gently pulled Peter's thumb out of his mouth, which earned him a small whine of protest. 

"Shh..." Tony soothed, tenderly stroking the boy's hair, heart glowing as he watched Peter close his eyes, small sleepy snuffles escaping him. Tony leaned in and kissed his child's fore-head when he was sure the boy was definitely out. "Sleep tight, kiddo, Daddy loves you so much," he whispered. 

Chapter Text

"Do we need to go over the rules again whilst I'm away?" Tony asked, tone low and stern as he gazed down at his twelve year-old son, who was stubbornly refusing to meet his eyes.

Peter groaned in exasperation, tucking his face into his arms and leaning his upper body, heavily, on top of the kitchen island. "Come on, Dad, you've told me a million times..." Peter grumbled, voice muffled against his skin.

"Well, then I'm sure you'll be able to recall them with ease," Tony retorted, dryly, not allowing any room for argument, causing the boy to sigh and mutter in irritation under his breath, but he offered a mumbled reply of barely coherent words.

"Do my homework, don't answer the door to strangers, don't go out under any circumstances unless it's an emergency and definitely don't go down to the Lab," he listed off in a monotone voice, having recited the rules many times before. 

Tony hummed in approval, threading his fingers through his son's soft chestnut curls.

"Good boy," he praised, hand trailing down to the small hairs on the back of his child's neck, which he tickled lightly. "You done with the theatrics now, little man?" He quipped, chest swelling with warmth when the boy giggled as he scratched his nails against the sensitive skin.

Tony quickly retracted his hand and wriggled his fingers underneath the boy's shirt, grinning when Peter practically squealed at the sudden invasion - his belly had always been his father's tickling target - and darted his head up to finally meet his Dad's gaze.

"Okay, okay!" He cried, chest heaving with laughter as he playfully batted the man's hand away from his torso.

"That's better." Tony beamed, triumphantly, once the kid's giggles subsided, reaching forward to card his fingers through his son's hair, smoothing the curls back down. "Wanna see me out?" He asked and Peter nodded.

Tony went to his bedroom to change into a black suit with a red tie, before heading to the driveway where Happy and Peter were waiting.

"Ready, Boss?" Happy asked, opening the back door to one of their expensive black Audis.

"Mhm," Tony hummed, absentmindedly, placing his suitcase in the boot before stretching to his full height.

Peter was watching him with those big brown eyes that always melted his heart and this time was no different, especially because he was leaving his kid for a couple days.

Despite feeling just as anxious as his son, he smiled warmly and extended his arms, curling his fingers suggestively and Peter wasted no time in diving straight into his father's offer of a hug, pressing his face into the button-down shirt and lopping his slender arms around the man's torso.

"Love you," Peter sniffled, nuzzling his face into the fabric and breathing in his Dad's unique scent.

Tony's heart filled with love and he dropped his head to plant a kiss into the boy's mop of unruly curls, inhaling his son's sweet smell.

"Love you too, Pete," he murmured into Peter's hair, pressing another quick kiss there before pulling away. He carded his fingers through the baby soft strands, smiling softly.

"No mischief. Don't do anything I would or wouldn't do, remember that little grey area?" He spoke, a teasing sparkle in his dark eyes.

"Yes, Dad!" Peter drawled out, giggling mischievously. "I know."

"Good kid," Tony chuckled, playfully tweaking the boy's nose before swinging his leg into the backseat and climbing in.

He hated to leave the kid, but he knew Peter would be in the capable hands of Pepper, there was no one else who could look after his child better as she had been there since the very beginning. Peter shoved his hands into his jean pockets and watched his Dad and his Uncle drive away, trying not to think about how much he'd miss them.

Two days wasn't too long, nothing bad could happen in two days...right?

...

The rest of the day was uneventful. Peter worked on his math homework in the afternoon and Pepper made them hamburgers with salad and chips for tea.

Tony called Peter before bedtime and expressed his pride in him when he told his Dad he had finished his homework - Tony always got giddy like a schoolboy when his son demonstrated that he'd inherited his father's genius mind.

The next morning, however, was very boring for Peter. Pepper had kindly made him blueberry pancakes before she had to leave to attend her own business meeting and the young Stark was left to entertain himself.

By lunchtime, he'd played most of his video games and now the gaming had become more repetitive than enjoyable and whilst he was looking through his bag looking for any more work he might have neglected, a naughty thought crossed his mind. His Dad and Pepper weren't here so he could do anything he wanted before they came back and no-one would know any different. Yet, with this thought in mind, he still felt very guilty for even thinking such as thing, as he was usually a well-behaved kid - he was too bright to go against his father's direct orders, but he was still a boy about to enter his teenage years and his rebellious tendencies were certainly beginning to make themselves known.

Peter wasn't allowed in the Lab unless his father was present. His Dad always told him that the workshop was too dangerous for children and he only relented now and again for Peter, because he knew that his son was brighter than many other kids of his age and clearly had a passion for scientific engineering just like him, so he would have felt like a bad parent if he didn't encourage the boy to fulfill his true potential.

Peter realized with a heavy heart, as he slowly descended the stairs to the Lab, that he had never properly disobeyed his father before apart from the odd small display of cheek when he was little, and what made the guilt already consuming his body worse was that his Dad trusted him enough to give him the pass-code to the door, just in case he needed to get the Iron Man technology if there was an emergency. 

Peter tried not to think about what the consequences would be for disobeying one of his father's major rules, considering he'd never been in that much trouble before. He typed in the pin, heart in his throat when the door unlocked and he stepped into the Lab, the familiar scent of metallic rust and motor oil reaching his nose and he inhaled deeply, adoring the smell just like his Dad.

The boy stepped into the inviting open space and observed the worktops carefully, looking for something to tinker with. His heart leapt when his gaze landed on the bright red titanium alloy gauntlet that his father had been working on for a new suit. It was attached to a small arc reactor. 

The young Stark approached the desktop, a gleeful grin spreading across his face as he examined the impressive intricacies of his father's work and he was intrigued to find a panel was missing on the back. He smiled as he decided to finish the job, trying not to think about what the man would do when he realized his task had been magically finished for him.

Peter slipped a pair of clear goggles on his face and started completing the work. He was too engaged with happily tinkering away to notice the glowing arc reactor at all and it was only at the last second did he realize that the rupulsor was activating.

The moment he saw the bright white glow reflected in his wide brown eyes, he made the split second decision to throw himself to the ground, but not before the beam fried the skin of his exposed fore-arm.

Searing pain burned up his arm and the boy shrieked, an animalistic sound which echoed around the Lab as he collapsed onto the floor in a heap. He vaguely detected the smashing of glass through the heavy ringing in his ears and the unbelievable agony of the fiery licking at his skin caused deep sobs to spill from his chest, whole quivering mess of a body heaving at the force of them.

Through his blurred vision he could just about see the bright red, swollen wound on his arm and a small slither of relief passed through him as he realized it could be much worse, but he was too distraught and in too much pain to care.

"J-Jarvis, r-r-ring D-Dad!" Peter cried. "P-please! I-I need h-him n-now!"

"I informed your father of your present location when you entered the Lab, young sir. He is currently on his way home now," JARVIS responded and if Peter wasn't already in enough emotional strain already, his sobs became even more distraught when he pieced together the fact that his father had had to leave his business trip early to come home and sort out his spoilt brat of a son.

"Peter?" Tony's voice suddenly spoke through the speakers and Peter could hear the familiar sounds of the suit thrusters in the background. His heart ached at the panic and worry in his father's tone. "What the hell happened?" The man demanded and Peter could vividly picture the disapproving frown on his father's face.

"D-Dad, I'm sorry, Dad, I'm so sorry!" Peter hiccupped through his cries, curling into a ball in a poor attempt to self-soothe, whilst keeping his stinging skin against the cool concrete. "Dad, it hurts! It hurts so bad, I'm sorry!" Words poured out of his mouth like a waterfall, unaware of what he was even saying and only craving the comfort and safety of his Dad's arms.

"Hey, hey, shh...I know, buddy, I know," Tony spoke, softly now, any snark or tone of frustration disintegrating at the desperate sobs of his son, his warm soothing tone washing over the boy like a soft blanket. "Just hang in there, honey, I'm almost there."

"Please hurry, Daddy, it hurts so much!" Peter cried, the agony of his throbbing burn and the overwhelming guilt of going against one of his father's biggest rules tearing him up inside.

"Shh, I know, baby, I know. It's alright, Daddy's coming, shh..." Tony murmured, heart breaking at the harsh cries and hiccuped whimpers reaching his ears.

He willed his suit to fly faster, his paternal instincts screaming at him to reach his child and protect him from all harm, hold him to his chest and make everything in his little one's world right again.

Although he was very much fuming and disappointed with his son's actions, nothing would stop him from giving Peter all the care and attention he needed when he was hurting. 

...

Tony slammed down in the driveway, the impact of the suit forming small cracks in the concrete, where he immediately retracted the armor and raced into the mansion.

On his way through the living area, he loosened his collar and removed his tie, dumping it on the floor and taking two steps at a time down to the Lab.

He chocked on a sob when his eyes darted down to Peter sprawled out on the ground, his baby face streaked red with tears and his right arm swollen, looking excruciatingly painful for a twelve year-old boy to handle.

Tony darted forward and fell to his knees, tenderly gathering his child in his arms, being careful to avoid the burnt area and pressing a soft kiss to his little one's temple.

"I'm here now, baby, Daddy's right here. I'm going to make it all better, okay?" The father spoke, softly, into his son's hair.

Peter sobbed some more, but his uncontrollably shaking body and desperate cries relaxed somewhat as soon as he was in the safety of his father's arms. "'Kay," he whimpered, cuddling closer the man's warmth so he could inhale his comforting smell.

"Alright. I'm going to lift you up onto the bed now, honey, it might hurt so hold on tight if you need to," the billionaire said and when he received a small nod in return, he heaved the boy higher into his arms, wincing at the sharp cry Peter made right into his ear.

He apologized profusely, placing a couple of kisses to his baby's wet cheeks. Once he deposited the boy onto the bed, he wheeled it to the nearest sink, laying Peter's arm on the drainage board and turning the tap towards him.

Peter's cries instantly reduced to quiet whimpers once the cool stream of water was directed at his burning skin.

"How's that, baby?" Tony asked, watching his son with soft eyes, a small smile tugging at his lips as he admired the relief spreading across the boy's face.

"Good." Peter sighed, relaxing his scrunched up features and smiling, tiredly, at his father. Tony reached forward and stroked his son's face with the back of his calloused fingers, wiping away the tears and released a heavy sigh.

"Pete, you can't do this to me again, buddy," he began, cupping his child's jaw in his free hand so the boy would maintain eye contact with him.

His heart broke when Peter blinked, owlishly up at him, his wide doe eyes displaying his fear, but also demonstrating the obvious guilt and regret he felt for disobeying his father.

"I trusted you to listen to me and follow the rules, but you disobeyed me. Do you know how fu-how scared I was when Jarvis called me? Do you know how bloody lucky you are, how much worse this could have been? You could have lost an arm, Peter!" He gestured towards his son's red, swollen arm with a quick tilt of his head and sucked in a harsh breath, blinking back tears at the thought of any serious harm coming to his precious kid.

His eyes were raw and he didn't want Peter to see the pain in them, so he brought his hand up to his face, roughly rubbing them and squeezing the bridge of his nose, sniffling and doing his best to hold his tears back.

When his gaze landed on his son again, he winced in sympathy as Peter was crying silently, his bottom lip trembling and twin tears cascading down his cheeks. He was the picture of sorrow and regret and, for the first time, he had seen his father cry.

"I'm sorry, Daddy, I'm so sorry..." He whimpered, voice cracking under the heavy emotional strain. "I swear I'll be good, please forgive me, I'm sorry..."

Tony's heart broke at his child's desperate cries, reaching forward to stroke the boy's chestnut curls away from his fore-head and brush the tears from his cheek.

"Oh honey, it's alright, it's okay. I'm not mad anymore," he murmured, smiling softly, dark chocolate eyes sparkling with unconditional love.

"Really?" Peter sniffled, gazing at him with those big brown eyes again, which Tony both loved and hated because his kid always got his own way when he used the puppy dog trigger, but the man found that he didn't care in this moment. He just wanted to make sure his son was cared for and knew that his Dad still loved him.

"Yeah, buddy, so stop giving me those eyes. You're killing me here, kid." Tony chuckled, weakly, wiping at his wet eyes, briskly.

He moved the tap back to sink just to have something to do with his hands and examined his son's arm carefully, so used to getting burns from years of engineer work that treating them was like second nature to him. He would definitely have to teach his kid how to treat himself soon so he could come down to the Lab on his own when he was old enough.

"Right, let's get you upstairs. I've got some cream in the kitchen that will be perfect for this," he spoke after a few seconds, helping the boy down from the bed.

"You're not gonna punish me?" Peter asked, innocently, chewing on his lower lip anxiously and avoiding his father's gaze.

Tony smiled in amusement and ruffled his son's hair. "I think you've had enough punishment, don't you?" He teased, grin broadening when Peter sniggered at this. "But, you're also banned from the Lab for two months," he added, impishly, tugging his boy into a side-hug as they walked towards the stairs and chuckling at the small noise of complaint which reached his ears.

He squeezed his son fondly, yet firmly. "You've still got a lot to learn, kid."

Chapter Text

"Sir, there is an occurrence in the nursery which I believe you will find particularly endearing," JARVIS announced and Tony looked up from the circuit board he had been tinkering on.

"What's up? Is Peter okay?" He asked, moving to the sink to wash his greasy hands and dry them on an old cloth. 

"The young sir is in perfect health," the AI asserted and Tony frowned in confusion, making his way up the stairs and down the hall.

He had left his kid happily playing with his many toys whilst the genius went down to the Lab for a bit of quiet time, instructing JARVIS to inform him if there were any changes to Peter's mood which would alert him whether the boy needed a change, a feed or just some cuddles (which was a primal need which arose quite often in the both of them).

When Tony reached the nursery, his gaze landed on is son and he immediately halted in his tracks, heart jolting in his chest.

Peter, dressed in the blue top, grey trousers and cream socks Tony had clothed him in earlier in the morning, was standing. He was beside his dinosaur themed toy box, his tiny hands holding onto the white wooden lid to steady himself and, surprisingly, his legs remained strong even though the billionaire expected them to be quivering.

"Hey, baby. What are you up to there?" Tony spoke, quietly, so as not to startle the boy but loud enough to announce his presence, as he slowly dropped to a crouch over the carpet.

Peter tottered around at the sound of his father's voice, a huge baby grin adoring his little face and sending sparks of love shooting through the man's veins.

"Dada!" His baby squealed, excitedly, the use of the endearment never failing to melt the elder's heart, but it seemed Peter wasn't done with scaring his father as he suddenly took a wobbly step in the man's direction.

"Hi, honey," Tony chuckled, resting his hands on his knees as he dropped his body to sit on his legs. He then held his arms open wide.

"Do you wanna come to Daddy, sweetheart? Come on, come to Daddy," the man gently coaxed and pride seared through him when his baby took another precarious step.

His stomach dropped when Peter tripped over his feet and fell on his face on the next step and when he lifted his head, Tony expected him to be crying and reaching for his Daddy to hold him, however, remarkably, the boy just pushed himself back up and continued slowly toddling forward.

Tony never though he could feel this much love for a tiny human, but this was his baby, his little man, who was already beginning to grow up before his very eyes.

"Daddy," Peter said as he took a couple more tiny steps, his small face scrunching up into an adorably determined and serious expression which didn't suit his baby features in the slightest, but Tony adored it when his kid put his 'thinking face' on.

"Yeah, that's it, baby, keep going. Daddy's so proud of you," Tony cooed, happy tears burning his eyes and beginning to trickle down his cheeks, as he curled his fingers to further encourage his son. This was a huge milestone in his child's life and he felt blessed to be there to witness it and not caught up in a meeting somewhere. 

Peter was only a few steps away from him now and the little boy grinned when he realized how close he was to his father, the genius mirroring his smile.

"Almost there, Pete, you can do it. Come on..." Tony coaxed and Peter took the last couple steps quickly, desperate to reach his Daddy and the man lunged forward to catch him before he stumbled to the ground again.

Peter squealed in delight when Tony swung his little body into the air, kicking his legs in exhilaration.

"You did it, baby! God, Pete, I'm so proud of you, little man," the billionaire cheered, bringing his baby down to press multiple soft kisses to chubby cheeks, causing the boy to squirm and giggle even more. 

"Dada, Dada!" Peter babbled, happily, wriggling in his father's hold and patting the man's face with his small hands to stop the relentless kisses being placed all over his skin.

He pulled his hands away and inspected them, curiously and Tony chuckled when he realized the boy was wondering why his father's skin was wet.

"What a softie you've made me into, kid." Tony laughed, bouncing his baby on his hip and leaning in to kiss Peter's hand, who giggled again at the playful gesture.

He ran his tiny fingers over his father's goatee and lips and the man positively melted into a puddle at the innocent curiosity in his child's touch as he babbled some incoherent words.

"I love you, baby, Daddy loves you so much," Tony murmured, kissing the tip of his son's nose and cuddling him close and resting his chin on the fuzzy head, heart blooming when Peter snuggled into his neck.

His little one was growing up so fast, but he couldn't wait to be there for every single moment of it.

Chapter Text

Tony knew that his son was clever, bordering genius levels since he was born. He'd always displayed an active imagination and was counting to twenty before his fourth birthday. The billionaire's heart always bloomed with pride and a beaming smile lit up his face when he saw his kid do something extraordinary for someone so young and today was no exception.

'Uncle' Rhodey bought Peter a brilliant red and yellow bicycle for his fifth birthday a month ago and it was by far the boy's favourite present because both colours belonged to his Daddy and when he learnt to ride it, he could be just like him. Tony tried not to be too offended that, for the first time, his kid's favourite birthday gift was from someone other than him - the platypus always came up with great birthday present ideas.

"Come on, Peter, come on, get you're center. Don't look at Daddy, watch where you're going, come on!" Tony encouraged his little on, running along the bike in a low crouch and holding onto the handles, ensuring his son cycled in a straight line to avoid him crashing into one of their shiny black Audis. They'd been practicing with training wheels for only a week, before Tony felt like he was ready to go solo and he was right by the way Peter was performing right now.

"How does it feel?"

"Good!" Peter exclaimed, a huge grin adoring his young face as his little legs peddled, wildly.

Tony chuckled, warmly. "Ready?" He asked, heart jolting uncomfortably in his chest at the prospect of letting his baby go, but Peter was clearly ready and if there was one lesson he'd learnt from parenting, he would know what to do when his child told him, whether it be through words or action.

"Yep, let go, Daddy!" Peter yelled, clearly itching to get away.

Tony released his grip and watched with bated breath as Peter wobbled and swerved in his path a little when the man let go. It was only for a few seconds, though, and his face lit up with pride and love when Peter straightened up, cycling without any assistance.

"I'm doing it, Daddy! I'm doing it!" Peter cried, excitedly, his little Converse shoes slipping on the pedals in his haste, but he quickly recovered.

Tony gave a huge cheer, whipping out his phone to take a dozen pictures of this perfect memory. "Yes, baby, you're doing great! Keep going, I'm so proud of you!" He called, heart fluttering as he recalled speaking similar words to his baby when Peter learnt to walk, how time flies.

He couldn't believe how much the boy had grown since then, to Tony it felt like yesterday when he was bottle-feeding Peter and changing dirty nappies. He often feared the day when his son would no longer enjoy spending time with him and cling to him like he did now, but he knew that he just had to savor every second he spent with his little boy now.

A loud cry instantly cut off his train of thought and he lowered his phone to see Peter sprawled out on the ground, clutching a bloody knee and sobbing his little heart out. Tony's heart sunk at the pitiful sight and he raced over to drop to a crouch so he could examine the gashes across both of his son's knees, the child's cries reducing slightly when his father came close.

This is what I get for putting him in those shorts, Tony mused, glancing at the Hulk themed khaki shorts Pepper had bought for the boy's birthday.

"Hurts, Daddy! It hurts!" Peter sobbed, hysterically, drawing the man's attention back to the situation at hand and he decided that Peter would only need a quick clean and plasters as the wounds certainly weren't the worst he'd seen.

Although, he was quite used to his kid becoming overly emotional over small things, so it didn't surprise him that the boy was crying his eyes out and reaching his little arms, making small grabby motions at him.

"Shh, I know, honey, I know. It's alright, Daddy will make it all better, huh?" Tony murmured, quietly, gently lifting his little one into his arms and pressing a firm kiss to his wet cheek, before taking him inside.

Once Peter knew he was safe in his father's strong arms, he relaxed slightly even though both knees were stinging from where they had scraped across the gravel in the driveway, but a small mewl escaped him when Tony placed him on the kitchen counter and walked away from him.

"Daddy..." He whimpered, reaching his arms out to be held again.

"Shh, it's okay, baby. Daddy's just getting some plasters for your nasty scrapes," Tony soothed, reaching into a cupboard for the first aid kit he kept stashed there. He'd lost track of the amount of times he had to patch himself from long days working in the lab.

He quickly moved to dab at his son's gashes with a cotton ball to wash the blood away, reaching up to cup his child's face and stroke his cheek with a calloused thumb when the kid winced at the cool substance. He was relieved that there wasn't any gravel of dirt in the grazes.

"You really got the wind knocked out of you there, huh Pete?" He pondered, gaze drifting up to meet his son's big anguish filled doe eyes, smiling softly as the boy used the back of his hand to wipe his eyes with a small sniffle. 

"Uh huh," Peter spoke, miserably and Tony couldn't stand seeing such a defeated expression on his kid's usually cheerful, smiling face, so he swiftly taped the plasters to the stinging knees and leaned in to press a bunch of kisses to the boy's cheeks.

Peter wasn't prepared for the unexpected change in his father's stoic demeanor and he let out a loud squawk, before dissolving into giggles and he playfully batted at the man's sturdy shoulders.

"Aargh, Daddy, no!" He shrieked, squirming around on the desktop uncontrollably at the scratchy sensation of his father's goatee against his soft skin as the man chuckled against him and moved to place one last kiss on the tip of his button nose.

Peter released a sigh of relief when Tony pulled away, an adoring yet smug smile lighting up the man's handsome features. 

"There's that billion dollar baby grin." Tony laughed, bopping his son on the nose, before scooping him back up into his arms.

"I'm not a baby!" Peter denied, passionately, wriggling around in his father's strong hold.

Tony chuckled again, pressing another kiss to his kid's cheek. "Well, you're my baby, mister," he amended, but was immediately caught off guard when the boy leaned in to peck the man's own cheek, much to the surprise of Tony who almost dropped his son at the unexpected affectionate gesture.

"Kiss for you too, Daddy." Peter beamed, happily and Tony could practically feel his bones turning into goo as he gazed at his beautiful kid.

"Thank you, sweetheart," he whispered, smoothing Peter's curls away from his fore-head, dark eyes sparkling with unspoken love.

"Can I try again, Daddy?" Peter asked, hopefully, the streak of Stark stubbornness evident in his tone and it broke Tony's heart to have to disappoint the boy.

Today had to be one of the worst to be expected to attend a charity event for the company; he had been having such a perfect morning with his kid and he loathed to leave Peter because the boy would often cry and whine as he hated it when his Daddy wasn't with him.

Tony was used to Peter clinging onto him like a little koala and it was never easy for either of them when he had to leave, because he knew his kid wouldn't settle until he returned, no matter who he left him with.

"Not right now, honey. Do you remember I told you about that very important meeting?" Tony asked, cautiously, anticipating a big tantrum when the boy worked out that his father was leaving him.

Peter nodded, absentmindedly playing with a loose thread on the man's blue t-shirt, obviously attempting to block out whatever Tony was going to tell him, knowing he wouldn't like the outcome.

"Okay, well I've got to get ready for that now, buddy, so you're going to stay here with Uncle Happy," Tony said, heading towards the bedroom so he could get changed, wincing at the high-pitched whine that reached his ears.

"No, Daddy, don't go!" Peter begged, clinging onto the man tightly. "Stay here!"

"I can't, my love, I wish I could," Tony murmured, bracing the back of his son's head like he would a newborn, bringing him close to kiss his kid's baby soft hair, the bouncy curls one of his favourite things about his son.

He grabbed one of the boy's toys off the floor, which so happened to be his favourite Iron Man teddy, handing it to Peter so he could change. It was even more heartbreaking to see him clutch the toy to his chest desperately and bury his face in the cotton, that it was to simple listen to him crying.

Tony quickly changed, keeping an eye on his miserable child the whole time, hating himself for making his kid so upset, knowing that his was his fault this time, but this had to be done.

Peter would have to get used to him leaving for business meetings and fund raising events, it was inevitable being a billionaire, celebrity and superhero. His kid had to share him with the world. Tony almost felt relieved when Happy walked in whilst he was finishing buttoning up his suit jacket and Peter seemed to perk up a bit too, but the man knew it was most likely a ruse.

"Hey, Happy. I think you're going to have your hands full, he's in an extra clingy mood today," Tony greeted, giving his friend's fore-arm a warm squeeze in both welcome and sympathy.

Pepper was usually the number one choice to look after Peter when he was away, but she just so happened to be at the meeting today and Rhodey was busy, so Happy offered, even though he was sometimes uncomfortable and unsure how to act around the boy. Peter's charm was so infectious that Happy had quickly came around to him soon after Tony became smitten with his newborn.

"Didn't expect anything less." Happy smirked, glancing at his despondent nephew. "Hey kid. Do I get a hug?" He asked, opening his arms for the boy, who smiled, shyly and slipped off the bed to do just that. "Why the long face, sport?" The driver knelt down so he could be face to face with the child.

"Daddy's a meanie..." Peter grumbled, crossing his arms and pouting, sulkily.

"Kid's got my infectious charm," Tony remarked, a humorous smirk gracing his features, but it was tearing him up inside to see his kid so depressed. It wasn't like he was leaving the boy forever either, the event couldn't last more than a few hours, but he couldn't deny that he missed his little guy like crazy whenever he had to leave.

"C'mere you," Tony said, fondly, heaving his son into his arms and poking him in his soft cheek. "Hey, why are you so cute, huh?" He teased, lightly, in an attempt to make the boy smile but Peter didn't even flinch; he was too clever to fall for his father's jokes.

"Stay, Daddy," Peter whined, wrapping his arms around the man's neck and nuzzling close, breaking the billionaire's heart at the desperate plea.

"I can't, baby, I'm sorry." Tony smiled, sympathetically, stroking his son's curls away from his fore-head. "You're going to have a nice afternoon with Uncle Happy." He attempted to hand the boy over to the driver, but Peter kicked his legs manically and screamed in his ear, bursting into tears.

"No! Don't go, Daddy! Stay here!" Peter wailed, squirming all over the place and Tony had to duck his head to avoid a little foot connecting with it, as well as keeping a tight grip on the boy so he couldn't drop him.

"Shh, don't cry, Pete. It's going to be alright, I'll be back real soon," the man murmured, leaning in to press a kiss to his baby's cheek.

"I love you, baby." He spun round and headed towards the car, heart tearing as Peter's cries got quieter as he got further away. He felt terrible leaving his kid in such a state, but he knew it had to be done and he just hoped that Happy could manage to calm him down and get some peace of his own.

...

Several hours later, Tony was sat on the sofa wearing a black night top and pajama bottoms, cuddling a very sleepy Peter on his lap, who was dressed in a navy onesie with rockets on.

As he suspected, Peter clung to him like a little koala the moment he arrived back home and barely let go, only doing so when Tony changed them both into comfy pajamas, before reaching his little arms up again to be carried.

Tony didn't mind his kid's clinginess, in fact he found it incredibly endearing and his heart melted when his son wanted to snuggle on the sofa every night. He couldn't have imagined that anyone could love him as much as Peter did and he knew there was nothing he would not do for his little man.

Peter was sucking from his red sippy cup filled with warm strawberry milkshake and giggling every so often at the Looney Tunes sketch they were watching.

Tony smiled, resting his chin on his son's fluffy curls cuddling him close against his chest as he listened to his child's sweet laughter. He ducked his head to press a sweet kiss to his son's cheek and nuzzled his face against Peter's.

These were the moments which made him love his kid that little bit more, if that was even possible.

Chapter Text

Hi, Dad. There's a study session for Chemistry after school, so I'm gonna stay for it with Ned. Don't send Happy to pick me up, I'll walk Ned home. Love ya, bye!

...

Hi, Dad. There's a study session for Chemistry after school, so I'm gonna stay for it with Ned. Don't send Happy to pick me up, I'll walk Ned home. Love-

"JARVIS, pause message. Call him," Tony instructed, roughly scraping his hand over his face as he paced back and forth in the lab. Peter had called at half three when school finished; it was half six now and the genius was certain that the study group must have disbanded by now and Peter must be walking his friend home.

Hey, it's Peter, leave a message!

"Dammit!" Tony exclaimed, racking his fingers through his dark hair and feeling his chest tighten uncomfortably, harsh breaths escaping him. The bloody kid probably hadn't charged his phone properly and now the fretting parent had no idea whether his child was on his way home or not. Either that or he just wasn't answering and Tony despaired as he dreaded to think of the many dangers out there in the city at night which could potentially harm Peter.

There was no debate on whether he was going to allow his thirteen year-old kid to walk home alone at this hour where the sun was beginning to set without ensuring that he was well and safe. It was a good thing that he could fall back on his trusty AI and his Iron suit...

...

It wasn't often that Peter walked to the Tower from school, because his Dad always made sure that either himself or Happy were there to pick him up.

Tony didn't trust the city nightlife, or members of the media industry for that matter, especially around his naive young son; Peter had only chosen to walk home as he wanted to be there for Ned, whose mother was at work and couldn't come to collect him.

Of course, the teen knew that his father could easily come and pick them both up and drop his friend at his house easily, but they were boys on the cusp of their adolescence and a newfound sense of freedom and primal need to assert their independence on the world was something they couldn't help but indulge.

Peter dropped Ned off at his house, politely declining the offer to stay and play video games until the other boy's mother returned from work in an hour's time (stating that his Dad was probably worrying about him and must have been trying to call his dead phone by now), before heading towards the local park. It was a short cut back to the Tower and Peter wanted to get back as soon as possible as it was beginning to get dark and his Dad would kill him if he turned up any later for their tea than he already was.

It was a quiet night and there weren't as many people in the park as there would usually be; Peter deduced that it was because there was a chilly breeze tonight and possible chances of a heavy downpour later judging by the sight of dark clouds rolling in from the north.

Although he was slightly proud of himself for successfully making it this far on his own, Peter couldn't help but feel a little exposed in such a vast area, especially when it was starting to get dark, but he became frustrated with himself when he almost tripped over his neglected shoelace in his haste to get back home quickly.

"Shit," he grumbled under his breath, cursing himself for acting like such a baby. You're thirteen years-old for God's sake, you can walk home on your own, it's only like ten minutes away. Dad certainly wouldn't approve of his choice of language, but Peter often caught him in the lab cussing after he accidentally burnt himself when he was tinkering on his Iron suit.

Peter got down on one knee to undo both laces and double knot them so he wouldn't need to stop and tie them again. Even though he was getting more and more and irritated with himself for fretting over a simple walk in the park, deep down he knew that it wasn't safe for someone as young as him to be alone at night in a big city and the sooner he got back home to the safety and comfort of his father's Tower, the better.

A shadow fell over his crouched form, cast by the last of the sun rays dipping below the dark horizon.

"Hello, what're you doin' out here all on your own, sonny?" The figure asked; a man's voice with a distinct gravelly tone.

Peter glanced up at the man, whose imposing presence towering over his hunched, vulnerable body caused him to immediately stand. Being on the short side for someone his age, he realised with an uncomfortable steady observation that he only managed to reach the stranger's chest.

The man appeared to be in his late thirties or early forties; he was tall, slim with a rather gruff appearance because of an untidy, unshaven dark stubble covering his chin, dirty torn black trousers and a well worn brown leather jacket. He might have been what Peter could recognise as ruggedly handsome with thick, dark locks of wavy hair and striking emerald eyes embedded on a face which had clearly lived through all of the seasons.

However, the young boy couldn't help but squirm uneasily under the man's intense scrutiny; there was a particular predatory look in the elder's irises and his gaze slowly ran over the teen as if he were a prize slab of ham in the local butchers.

Of course, Peter had been raised to never address strangers when he wasn't with his father, which was an even more important habit for the teenager to adopt because of the privileged life he had lived being the only child of Tony Stark.

Everybody in the world could put a name to Peter's face in an instant due to prolific media coverage of him since he was a baby and the billionaire had taken special care to ensure that his son would be protected from many of the horrors members of the press could unintentionally subject children of popular celebrities to. Therefore, Peter had been brought up to naturally become overly cautious and observant around strangers and upon being under the piercing gaze of this peculiar stranger, the kid was almost certain that this man knew his identity.

"Um, I'm just walking home from school," Peter replied to the stranger's question, scuffing his feet nervously on the pavement and avoiding eye contact.

The way the man was looking at him was making his skin crawl and he didn't want to indulge him by allowing this stranger to see the undeniable anxiety in his eyes.

"It's a bit late for school to have just finished, ain't it?" The man mused, thoughtfully, but it didn't sound like he was guessing at all; it was common knowledge among the people of the city what time school finished and Peter had a horrible feeling that he was being teased. He got enough of that from Flash and his goons.

"Seems unsafe for a young lad like you to be out all on your own in a big city like this," he added, tone casual as he took a step towards the boy, whose heart rate instantly increased as the stranger approached him.

Peter quickly wet his dry lips and took a blundering step back, clutching his backpack straps tightly in his sweaty palms.

"N-no, I-I'm fine. My Dad had a meeting so I told him I'd see him at home..." Peter fumbled over his words, a spike of fear piercing through him when the man smiled at him in a way one could only describe as adoring, as if he found the way the petrified teen stumble over his phrasing endearingly attractive in some way.

It made Peter feel sick to the stomach as only his Dad smiled at him like that and he didn't want that undeniably comforting part of his father's unconditional love to be tainted by a creepy stranger in the park.

"Hmm...You're Stark's boy, aren't you?" The man affirmed, following the kid forward with a dangerous gleam in his eye at the mention of Peter's father's name, causing the teen's blood to run cold. There was a distinctly gleeful tone in the man's voice, almost triumphant as he hungrily looked the boy up and down.

Peter didn't reply; he was too paralyzed in terror and his mouth was so dry that even if he attempted to speak, he doubted whether he could effectively form the words he longed to say to get this maniac out of his face.

"Yes," the man answered for him, taking another step forward and he smirked devilishly. "A pretty little thing like you could get me thousands from that beefed up Daddy of yours..." He growled, before suddenly darting forward to roughly wrap a dirty hand around his throat, the nicotine stained yellow fingernails emitting an unpleasant, murky odor.

Having the unfamiliar, rough hold around his gullet was enough for the teen to thrash around in panic as his breath was caught in his throat.

"Help! Help me, please!" He managed to screech through his restricted airway and he felt some amount of relief when the man released his tight grip, only to have the wind knocked out of him when a knee was harshly driven into his stomach and he was knocked about the head by a heavy fist.

He collapsed to the ground from the force of the unexpected blows, squinting painfully up at the figure towering over him. There was a harsh ringing in his ears and he could barely see the man's lips moving as he spoke, nor did he detect the sudden sounds of thrusters approaching from the north.

The man delivered another blunt kick to the boy's chest, too caught up in his own sadistic pleasure of catching his prize to notice the rapid approach of the enraged father of the very child he was abusing.

"My boys won't be able to resist a beautiful precious like you..." He groaned, lustfully, but before he could make another move against the sobbing teen, the earth beneath them seemed to tremble as something heavy landed on the path a few feet away.

The man stumbled slightly on his face and turned to face the source of the tremour, an expression of horror and disbelief plastered across his face as he took in the imposing sight of the vibrant red and yellow suit, his gawking appearance would have been comedic if the situation weren't so serious.

Even with the titanium alloy covering every inch of the billionaire, it was very clear to the stunned man that Tony Stark was infuriated and he was looking for blood.

"Get the fuck away from my son," Tony thundered, raising a gauntlet covered hand and, ignoring the desperate pleas from the scumbag that had dared to put his filthy hands on his innocent child, fired a bright white beam directly at the other's chest, a fierce sense of pride searing through him as the bastard screamed in agony when the blast sizzled through his clothes and skin.

Within a couple seconds of the man's desperate flailing and screeching in pain, the stranger had collapsed to the floor in the most undignified fashion: dead.

Tony was still seething uncontrollably, wishing he could have made the man suffer even more, but his blazing stream of vengeful thoughts were immediately replaced with desperate concern and an overwhelming wave of protection when his gaze landed on his crying child, still cowering on the floor.

His face mask instantly retracted as he approached the boy, heart bleeding as he took in the bruise on the side of his son's face, already turning a dark shade of purple and the tears streaking his baby's cheeks red.

"Oh, my love..." Tony whispered, voice cracking and Peter reached his arms out to him, begging to be held and the elder was hit by a sudden flashback to his son's toddler days when he had fallen over, scraped his knee and wanted his Daddy to hold him to make it all better.

"D-Dad, Dad..." Peter sobbed, fingers curling as he beckoned his father close and Tony couldn't have moved any quicker as he rushed forward to pull his shaking child into his arms. Peter clung to him desperately, not caring that his face was pressing into the cool metal of his Dad's suit.

"Shh, I'm here, baby, I'm right here, shh..." Tony murmured, soothingly, rocking them back and forth slowly as he ducked his head to press delicate kisses across his son's cheeks and temples.

"D-Dad, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry...I wanna go home..." Peter cried, cuddling closer and leaning into his father's strong hold, soaking up every sweet caress of his hair and soft kiss on his skin. 

Tony pressed his fore-head to his son's, cupping the boy's face and stroking the bruise by his left eye with his thumb, wincing when the teen flinched away at the stinging pain from the recent hit.

The father sought the gaze of his child, dark chocolate eyes glistening with tender concern and love, as he spoke,

"Hey, none of that, kiddo, there's nothing to apologise for. Let's just get you home and safe, alright baby?" The only response he received was Peter nuzzling closer, small sniffles and whimpers escaping him, keeping his arms wrapped securely around his Dad's neck.

As they flew back to the Tower, Tony couldn't be more grateful for the Stark Tech watch on his son's wrist. He dreaded to even think about what could have happened to Peter if JARVIS hadn't had been able to track his kid through the gadget, but that didn't matter now.

That bastard was dead and as soon as he got Peter settled in his bed, he was going to get the police onto the rest of them. He hadn't been there for the scumbag's revelation of there being more like him, but the billionaire had no doubt in his mind that he wouldn't be the only one.

When they eventually arrived home, Tony was going to make sure his kid felt safe again and if that meant lounging on the sofa together, watching Star Wars for the hundredth time, then no-body had to know, because his son's happiness always came first.

Chapter Text

The Starks had heard talk around the other parents that an unpleasant case of the flu was spreading around the youngsters and no-body quite knew who the original culprit responsible for developing the symptoms was, however, before they knew it, their five year-old woke up the next weekend with a terrible headache, high temperature and a sore throat.

Unfortunately, the night that her sickness had been beginning to make itself known, if the flushed cheeks and burning fore-head (as well as an uncharacteristically snappy and grumbling Morgan) was anything to go by, also happened to be their weekly movie marathon event (both Frozen films lovingly selected by the little girls without so much as a glance at the other options in the animation category), where a certain Spiderling let the hyperactive five year-old hog his lap for the majority of both screenings.

Half way into the second billing, the youngest Stark had clonked out from an overdose of Fruit Jellies and having the warm comfort of her brother's arms wrapped around her; the eldest had shot him an impish smirk and declared that the teen had the 'magic touch'.

To the utter surprise of the two unsuspecting adults, both children shared the same persistent symptoms the next morning.

Due to the unlucky discovery that they happened to have no painkillers left in the kitchen cupboard and with a couple of cranky kids in the house, Pepper headed to the nearest pharmacy in the city to gather some much needed supplies.

Everyone knew that the children held a special place in Tony's heart and that soft side to him, which he only shared with his kids, was more likely to do them the world of good knowing that they had the constant, reassuring presence of their father to nurture and care for them.

Morgan was certainly a handful when she was sick and even though the eldest Stark could decipher that his oldest was feeling just as bad as the little one, the teen demonstrated his true selfless nature by keeping his complaints to a bare minimum so that Morgan could claim all of their Dad's attention.

"C'mon, Petey, we're gonna watch Tangled!" Morgan giggled, excitedly, dragging Peter by the hand down the hallway.

The teen rolled his eyes good-naturedly, chuckling at his sister's enthusiasm even if she was still running a high temperature, but one wouldn't know it by looking at her. Peter was just happy that they wouldn't be watching Frozen twice in a twenty four-hour period; it had been known to occur quite frequently in the Stark household and he certainly wouldn't have been as eager as her if they were, especially seeing as he had just been dragged out of the warmth and comfort of his bed.

She definitely had Stark stubbornness to be displaying this much infectious energy even though she was still, technically, unwell.

"Come on! Daddy's waiting!" She exclaimed, persistently when Peter stumbled over his feet. His fever hadn't quite broken yet and he was absolutely exhausted after having next to no sleep the night before, but he was happy to indulge the squirt if it made her temporarily forget about their illness.

The mouthwatering aroma of chicken soup immediately reached the two and, although his throat was aching and his head was still throbbing, a bowl of soup sounded like heaven to the delirious teen in that moment.

Tony was standing at the kitchen desktop pouring the steaming liquid into a second bowl from a shiny pan and the opening of Frozen was currently on hold, FRIDAY waiting for the family to settle down and give her the signal to hit play.

"Can we have juice pops, Daddy?" Morgan asked, letting go of Peter's hand to bound over to the man's side.

"Great minds think alike, little miss," Tony chuckled, rhyming off a similar response to a very similar question from his young daughter the night he decided to embark on the almost impossible mission to change time in an effort to bring his first born back from the disastrous effects of the blip. Taking a quick glance at the kid from his task, seeing him standing there in one of his old MIT hoodies with flushed cheeks and sweaty curls plastered to his fore-head, but nonetheless alive and whole again, there was nothing that brought him such an overwhelming feeling of unconditional paternal love.

Speaking of love, he also had to make sure that his youngest was learning the best way to treat oneself when she was sick with the flu.

"But-" He stressed when she went to try and open the freezer to get one of many ice lollies in the top drawer. "-you gonna eat this delicious soup that I just spent ten minutes lovingly preparing for you? Daddy will have his feelings hurt if you don't try his scrumptious recipe," he teased, eyes flickering towards Peter's again to flash him a cheeky smirk and a wink which had the teen trying to contain his laughter at the man's shameless emotional manipulation of his young daughter.

"Oh, okay!" She agreed, brightly after taking a glance at the full bowls on the desktop and Tony reached his free hand out to ruffle her dark hair, playfully.

"That's my girl," he praised, handing her the big glass of Ribena he had poured earlier. "I'll bring this over, go keep the seat warm for me." She nodded with an adorable smile and darted off, her boundless amounts of energy just beyond the other two's understanding.

Tony turned his attention to Peter, a warm yet apprehensive smile gracing his features as he took in the boy's unkempt, slightly haggard appearance.

He dumped the pan in the sink and moved to place the back of his hand to Peter's hot fore-head, eyebrows furrowing in concern as he checked the kid's temperature.

"Lordie! You're burning up quite a bit there, kid," he observed, glancing down at the grey sweatshirt the teen was wearing, the sleeves forming sweater paws due to it being a couple sizes too big for him. "You've gotta be roasting in that sweater, bud, take it off."

"But it's comfy and it smells good," Peter whined, bringing the sleeves up to his face to inhale deeply as if to emphasis his point and Tony's heart swelled at the innocent remark, his smile broadening when the boy held his arm out for him to sniff.

This kid was a genius and a superhero, but he was still so young and pure, with small comments such as this cementing the fact and he was definitely the apple of Tony's eye, just like Morgan.

"Yes, I know, it smells like your old man," Tony spoke with a warm chuckle, placing the teen's arm back at his side. "Appreciate the sentiment, honey, but you're not gonna melt into a puddle on my sofa, so c'mere-"

He hooked his fingers underneath the hem of the hoodie, before pulling up and the teen had no choice but to lift his arms up, so Tony could pull it over his head.

"Perfect." The older man beamed, admiring the kid in one of his favourite science pun t-shirts and he reached forward to smooth the messy curls back down again. "Now, go sit down, Underoos. I'd better see you licking this bowl dry," he instructed, handing the boy a bowl of soup and his bowl and his own glass of Ribena.

Peter giggled at the man's lighthearted wit and made his way over to the sofa to sit himself down next to Morgan, Tony following soon after to give the little girl her own serving. Tony was quite happy with his cup of coffee at this point.

"FRIDAY, play please!" Morgan requested once they were all settled and soon the only sounds filling the cabin were the enthusiastic slurps of soup (ninety nine percent of it coming from Morgan), the humoured chuckles from Peter and the somewhat nonchalant chides from Tony which this act elicited from the older two, and the opening scene of Tangled.

When the clatter of spoons in empty bowls echoed around the room, Tony announced brightly, "There now, how was that, kiddos?"

"Yummy!" Morgan giggled and Peter smiled along with her. "Can we have juice pops now?" She begged, bouncing up and down in her seat as she demonstrated her best puppy dog eyes and how could Tony say 'no' to that, especially with Peter eyeing him hopefully as well.

"Alright, Maguna," he chuckled, nudging her with his foot so she slipped off the sofa and landed on the rug on the floor. "Get me a strawberry one, then." She nodded and scampered off.

The moment she disappeared into the kitchen, Peter swung his legs up and rested them in Tony's lap, a lazy smile on his face. The older man didn't think anything of the casual move and automatically rested his hands on the kid's ankle, pushing up the sweat pants up to playfully tug at the leg hair there.

"Jesus, kid, you growing a forest here or what?" Tony laughed, chest heaving; his kid was growing up too fast on him and it was a bit of a shock to see all of that leg hair.

"Tony..." Peter whined in embarrassment. Daaaaddd. "Stop it!" He giggled when the man continued to tickle his fingers up and down the teen's skin. "Don't make fun of me, I'm sick!"

"And you're a very good big brother," Tony remarked, proudly, once more resting his hands on the boy's ankles again and smiling, broadly, causing a heated blush to spread across the teen's already flushed cheeks as he ducked his head with a bashful smile.

"Why do you say that?" He asked, chuckling quietly and playing with the hem of his t-shirt.

"You're letting her hog the spotlight; you have been all morning," Tony asserted with a knowing grin, a sparkle of amusement in his dark eyes.

"Yeah, well she'd be kicking up a fuss if I didn't let her have you," Peter said, raising an eyebrow.

"There's more than enough of me to go around, kid, but I can't be seen neglecting my darling first born, can I?" Tony quirked with an mischievous smirk tugging at his lips and a twinkle in his eye, as if had been waiting all morning to casually slip in such a heartfelt comment into their regular conversations and the blush that had covered Peter's face now seemed to have magnified tenfold.

Before he had the chance to answer, however, Morgan came skipping back in and wasting no time in clambering back onto the sofa to straddle the teen's thighs, grinning from ear to ear. "I got you the orange one, Petey! It was under all the strawberry ones so I had to search through them first!", she announced.

"Oof! Thanks, squirt, but we're gonna have to navigate the seating arrangements here," Peter groaned under her weight and lifted her up by the waist so he could sit up properly and then took the juice pop from her.

"Here's yours, Daddy," she said, handing the red one to Tony, who had been watching their interaction with soft eyes, before making herself on comfy on the teen's lap and resting her head on his chest to settle down and watch the rest of the film.

...

The next few hours that followed were the most peaceful the family had experienced in what felt like a long time.

After Tangled , it was Peter's turn to pick and Tony was surprised when he skipped past any of the Star Wars films and selected Moana of all choices. Morgan gave a giddy jump in her place in the teen's lap and a little cheer of approval for Peter's selection; the boy releasing a small grunt at the impact against his groin and he turned to make an exaggerated face of discomfort to the older man, whose eyes he could feel on him. Moana, Tony mouthed, a sarcastically quizzical expression on his face as he raised a disbelieving eyebrow. Peter dipped his chin to gesture to Morgan with a smirk and it was clear that the little girl was in full support of his choice if the huge grin across her face was anything to go by. Tony just shook his head with a perceptive smile and rolled his eyes in a snarky fashion, but Peter knew that he was secretly proud because of the twinkle in his eyes and the knowledge of this filled him with warmth from head to toe.

By the time the film was nearly over (after Tony had made sure both slumbering kids had eaten a couple slices of toast with a bit of jam - strawberry for Morgan and raspberry for Peter), the youngest Stark had now settled herself in Tony's lap and Peter's head had found its way to resting on the billionaire's leg.

Pepper had returned shortly after the second film started and had given the kids some painkillers, before running herself a hot bath. Her heart had melted when she came in the house to see her husband cuddling one child close with one arm and braiding the other's soft, chestnut curls with his free hand, combing his fingers through the locks and twirling individual strands around his thumb and fore-finger subconsciously.

"I'm impressed, Mister Stark," Pepper whispered from behind the sofa, leaning down to place a kiss to the top of Tony's head and then delicately resting her hand on Morgan's dark hair to peck her fore-head. "You got them both to sleep at the same time. I was right, you've definitely got the magic Dad touch," she sniggered. "These kids couldn't adore you any more."

"I reckon I outmatch them on that one," he chuckled, quietly, and he was rewarded for his passionate remark with a touched smile from his wife, with a sparkle of love in her eyes. She knew that Tony had a special bond with the kids; she saw it on a daily basis and both children deeply admired their Dad and obviously loved him just as much as he did them - maybe even more so.

"I can't argue with that," Pepper laughed, leaning down to hook her arms under Morgan's. "I'll take her to bed," she said, lifting their daughter into her arms, who fidgeted slightly at the change of position, but a sleepy hum of content escaped her as she snuggled close and situated her head in the crook of her mother's neck.

"You sort out your Spider-baby," she added, before heading down the hallway.

Tony couldn't contain the laugh that spurred from the use of the affectionate nickname, but the sound and shake of his chest just above the teen's ear caused the kid to stir. Peter released a small groan, mumbling incoherently as his consciousness returned to him and he heavily shifted onto his back, remembering that he had fallen asleep in Tony's lap.

The painkillers Pepper had given him seemed to have done the trick as his head didn't feel like he was constantly being pounded anymore; he did still have the sore throat but it wasn't like trying to razor blades like before.

Tony looked down at the kid and smiled, affectionately, brushing the curls from the boy's fore-head. "Welcome back to the land of the living, kid," the genius chuckled as the teen squinted up at him with eyes glazed over from sleep and barely contained pain.

"Hey, man...was I out long?" Peter asked, stretching his arms above his head as a huge yawn escaped him, causing his words to slur slightly.

"About forty five minutes. Pep has put the munchkin to bed and now it's your turn, little spider," Tony teased, poking the teen in the belly, who whined halfheartedly at the jab and playfully batted at the man's hand.

"'S'too early..." Peter grumbled and Tony scoffed at his weak argument as, even though he was protesting to the idea of an early night, his eyes were uncontrollably slipping shut again as his obvious exhaustion consumed him.

"Not for sick Spider-Babies," Tony remarked, gently, settling his hand on the boy's tummy and rubbing slow, soothing circles there. "How's that head feeling now?" He asked, checking the kid's temperature again with the back of his hand.

"S'till a bit sore, not as bad as it was though..." Peter murmured, a content smile spreading across his face as he melted into the comfort that resulted from the warmth of the man's soft touch on his head and stomach.

"Ah ah ah! Don't get comfy, kid, you're going to bed where you can get some proper shut eye," Tony spoke, patting the kid's tummy once before moving his hands back, giving him the space to move.

"No..." Peter whined, sounding much younger than he actually was and bearing a striking resemblance to Morgan by the way his brows furrowed and the way his tone had a high-pitched lift at the end of his sentence and the elder had to remind himself that the two weren't actually biologically related.

Peter blindly reached for the man's hand and brought it back round to cup his cheek.

"'M comfy, you're warm..." He protested, weakly, releasing another content hum as he nuzzled against the calloused skin of his Dad's hand.

Tony's heart jolted at such an innocent action from the fifteen year-old and a fierce surge of love and protection seared through his chest as he gazed down at his kid - this beautiful human being who accepted and even loved him for everything, all of the scars included. There was nothing he would not do for this kid, and that included making sure that his sick little spider slept in a proper bed when he needed the rest.

Tony left his hand where Peter had maneuvered it to, but subtly trailed the fingers of his other down the teen's side, where he began squeezing the puppy fat which hadn't quite left the teen's body yet and tickling across his rib cage in earnest.

Peter let out a small, sharp scream, kicking and squirming and roughly shoving at the man's hands. "No no, stop it! Tony!" Peter choked on his laughter as he wriggled around on the elder's lap and he decided that he couldn't take the persistent attack, so he rolled off and onto the floor, gigging madly.

"Sorry, kid, but you asked for it," Tony belly laughed at the teen's desperate attempt to escape. He knew he was touching a nerve by tickling Peter's sensitive area, but he was certain that the boy wouldn't have shifted off of his lap otherwise.

"This is crap!" Peter groaned once his giggles had subsided, throwing his arms up in exasperated defeat, eyeing his mentor miserably.

For the kid to be borderline swearing, Tony knew that he had reached his limit now and he definitely needed the rest now if the glazed over chocolate brown eyes were anything to go by.

"Alright, Spider-Baby, time for bed," Tony murmured, grabbing the boy's hands and pulling him up into a standing position, where he proceeded to lean heavily into the man's body.

Tony wrapped a supportive hand around the kid's shoulders and guided him down the hallway to Peter's room, the teen becoming completely docile in the elder's hold, and crawling into bed with no complaints.

"'M tired now..." Peter grumbled, lying down as Tony arranged the duvet around the teen's legs and pulled it up to his chin.

"No shit, Pete," Tony chuckled, quietly, threading his fingers through the kid's curls to soothe. "Close your eyes," he softly spoke.

"S'Morgan okay?" Peter slurred, keening his hand back into the billionaire's hand, reminding the older man of a kitten searching for affection.

Tony laughed out loud at the teen's irrevocable selflessness and he shook his head as he recalled that he had told the kid where Morgan was less than five minutes; Peter was too delirious to be taking information in at this point.

"She's asleep, just like you should be, little spider," he remarked, fondly, moving his hand to shut Peter's eyelids and he kept his hand there to hopefully encourage the boy to give in to his fatigue. "Don't let me see you opening those eyes, kid," he chided, gently.

Peter snorted. "Dictator..." He muttered, but he nuzzled his face into the pillow, a sleepy sigh escaping him and Tony let his fingers trail back up to tenderly card through the boy's hair.

Before Peter fell into the dream world, he vaguely felt the touch of soft lips to his fore-head and the familiar prickle of a goatee against his skin; a small smile formed on his flushed face. Being sick wasn't too bad if he had his Dad and his little sister there to carry the burden with him.

...

Needless to say, a few days later both Tony and Pepper were being nursed by the kids for symptoms suspiciously similar to theirs...

Chapter Text

It was a beautiful summer's day at the Malibu Mansion, the golden sun emitting a sweltering heat across the poolside and a cool, refreshing breeze with a salty tinge to the humid air was drifting across from the ocean - making the perfect conditions for a day to lounge outside without a care in the world.

The eldest resident was particularly pleased with the pleasant weather, especially as the heat wave had happened to land on a weekend when he didn't have any business meetings scheduled, but also because he had been itching to make use of the pool for a few months now.

Peter had just turned four and, although Tony had taken his kid into the shallow end a few times before in a waterproof nappy and snugly sat in a rubber ring, the elder Stark decided that he now wanted to start teaching his little man how to swim properly. 

Before the two ventured out, Tony dressed Peter in bright green knee-length shorts with small dinosaur shapes on them, as well as an orange t-shirt to start off with. Peter would most likely want it taken off as soon as the water weighed him down and the fabric clung to his skin.

Tony was wearing bright red trunks with patterns of palm trees on; he elected to keep his top off because he knew that his baby loved skin to skin contact and Peter was probably going to be nervous when Tony took him further into the blue depths, so it would help to soothe him if he knew that he could cuddle up to his Daddy if it all got too much for him. The billionaire plopped a yellow sunhat on top of his son's soft chestnut curls and ensured that the both of them were slathered in a healthy dose of sunscreen, covering every inch of Peter's sensitive baby skin.

Tony cradled Peter close in his strong arms, the little boy keeping his own wrapped securely around his father's neck as he observed the area with curious eyes filled with awe and wonder. The man had built a small slide on top of a rock foundation for Peter to use when his confidence grew and there was also a larger one formed of a pip-like structure for Tony to go down, which was also safe for him to use with his young son. There were a couple of foam floats on the side as well: a red and yellow rubber ring and a child-friendly inflatable shark for them both to play with.

"Daddy, look! There a shark, can I play with it?" Peter asked, excitedly, kicking his little legs against his father's belly as he pointed at the grey and white inflatable and Tony grinned at how adorable his kid was when he got like this, barely able to form proper sentences yet and forgetting to use his 'pleases' and 'thank yous'. 

"Of course you can, baby, but first Daddy needs to teach you how to swim all by yourself, right?" Tony cooed, pressing a kiss to his son's cheek and gently placing him on his bare feet.

"Okay, Pete, lemme put your arm bands on," he said, slipping the orange material onto his kid's skinny arms, despite the boy's persistent squirming as he bounced on the balls of his feet with the type of infectious energy only a child could embody.

"Good boy," Tony praised, softly, once Peter managed to stay docile enough for him to properly secure the arm bands. His fingers trailed down to gently grip his son's wrists, gaze turning from indulgent to stern as he forced his wriggling worm to stand still for a couple minutes and pay attention.

"Listen to me now, little man. I'm going to go grab our towels from indoors. I want you to show me how long you can stand still for whilst I'm in there and I'll make you an ice cream sundae as a reward later," Tony spoke, tone low to accentuate the seriousness of his mood as the last thing he wanted was to come back out and see Peter toddling over the edge of the pool and topple into the deep end.

The very thought caused his heart to clench painfully and a his throat the chest to constrict with a sudden shortness of breath, so he looked deeply into his son's dark chocolate eyes, an identical shade to his own, to ensure that Peter was listening carefully to him.

The boy grinned, brightly at the promise of a treat and nodded so vigorously that the father was surprised that his small head didn't fall of his neck.

"I won't, Daddy, promise! Can I have triple choco chip?" He asked and Tony smiled, fondly, reaching up to swipe his thumb across his child's cheek where he had neglected to rub in a spot of sunscreen. 

"You can have any flavour you want just as long as you listen to Daddy and don't move from this spot, alright?" Tony said.

"Mhm!" Peter agreed, holding up his little finger for his father to hook his own onto. "Pinky promise?"

"There, I promise," Tony chuckled, unlinking their fingers and dropping his head to press a quick kiss to his son's little hand, before rising to his full height to go and grab the towels.

When he returned to the dazzling sunshine, his heart caught in his throat when he saw Peter standing by the ledge of the pool near the stairs, his toes curled over the ledge as he gazed in interest at the gentle ripples of the water, formed from the ventilator on the wall. He didn't appear like he was thinking of jumping in at all, but he was far too close to accidentally leaning too far forward and falling in for Tony's comfort. 

"Peter! Get away from the edge!" Tony called, desperately, discarding the towels in a heap on one of the sun loungers and racing over to grab his son's arm and pull him back a few steps.

"But, Daddy! I was just looking!" Peter protested, stumbling over his feet from being dragged backwards without any warning; Tony steadied him by placing both large hands on his arms as he crouched down to his son's height.

"That doesn't matter. It's too dangerous for you to be standing on the ledge like that when you don't know how to swim yet. What if a big gust of wind knocked you in and Daddy wasn't here to come save you?" Tony lectured, firmly, his signature 'Dad' voice that only Peter could provoke from him and had the pleasure of witnessing first hand, in full force as he gripped his kid's arms tightly to keep the boy's hyperactive brain in focus, but also to ground his own frantic mind calm so that he didn't overwhelm the poor kid.

He wanted to scare Peter so that he would understand the severity of his actions, but it was his intention to teach his son in order for him to learn from his mistakes. There could have been horrendous repercussions from Peter's misjudgement of the situation and Tony dreaded to think about what could have happened if he hadn't been out sooner.

"'M sowy, Daddy..." Peter whimpered, sadly, his lower lip trembling and tears forming in his big brown eyes as it was clear that his father's stern words were getting through to him. He hated disappointing Tony as he was usually a very bright, well behaved little boy who soaked up his Daddy's praise like a sponge and it always hit him hard when Tony had to chastise or scold him for bad behaviour. 

It wasn't any easier for the billionaire, because he couldn't stand it when his baby cried, especially when he was the reason for it. His gaze softened as he took in his child's miserable, sorrowful expression and, although it physically hurt him to see his kid so depressed, a part of him was secretly pleased because it meant that the lesson was sinking in.

He cupped his son's face, thumb caressing Peter's cheek as he spoke in a tender and reassuring tone. "It's okay, honey, I'm not mad at you. Just promise me that you won't go near the edge again without Daddy, alright?"

"I won't, Daddy, I twiple pinky promise," Peter declared and Tony hooked his little finger round his son's again to complete the oath, smiling softly at the boy's innocent gesture.

"C'mere you," He growled, playfully, yanking his kid forward onto his lap and pulling up his t-shirt so he could bring his lips down and blow a few loud raspberries on his pudgy belly to coax some laughter from his son, now that the formalities were out the way. Peter shrieked and squirmed in the man's hold, bursting into a bout of giggles, kicking his little legs helplessly.

"C'mon, honey, you're not a very good fighter, are you?" Tony teased in a frisky tone and he dove back down to nip at his kid's sensitive skin, causing the child to choke on his laughter as he wriggled some more, but to no avail. 

"Daddy! Daddy! 'M gonna pee!" He wailed, weakly pushing at his father's head with his little hands.

"Well we can't have that, can we bug?" Tony laughed, hovering over the boy, supporting his weight on his hands on either side of his kid's body, before bending down to press a kiss to his cheek.

"C'mon, up we go," he heaved, scooping his son up into his arms and heading over to the pool steps.

Tony slowly walked down the stairs so his kid could become well acquainted with his environment and the cool, refreshing sensation of the water felt perfect against his heated feet after standing on the surface which had been at the mercy of the stifling rays of the sun.

"God, that feels amazing, bud. You'd better enjoy this or I'm selling all of your toys," Tony joked, tickling Peter's ribs a little just to hear his kid's adorable laugh again and Peter didn't disappoint, giggling at his father's teasing.

Tony grabbed the rubber ring with his free hand as a form of precaution, just in case Peter got too frightened to swim on his own, letting it float away in the water and he stopped walking when it was level with his waistline.

"Okay, Pete, I'm gonna lower you down. Don't be scared, I'm staying right here with you," the man spoke, quietly, holding his son underneath the armpits in front of him and lowering into a crouch so he could reassure the boy that he was there and wasn't going to let go.

Peter had been in the pool before, so his expression remained calm as his legs became submerged underneath the water, but his wide eyes displayed his barely concealed anxiety at having more freedom to move without a rubber ring. A soft whimper escaped him at the foreign feeling; Tony gently hushing him as he kept his hands securely holding the boy's waist so his head wouldn't disappear under (not that it would anyway because of the arm bands).

"Alright, baby, you can start kicking your legs now - not too hard because we don't want you flying backwards," Tony chuckled at the bizarre image in his head of the kid accidentally propelling himself away. "I promise that you won't go under, you've got these arm bands on to make sure and I'm going to be right here the whole time," he explained.

Peter nibbled his lower lip, anxiously, glancing at the water surrounding them uncertainly, but he trusted his Daddy's word so he hesitantly began kicking his legs. 

"That's it, good boy," the man praised, softly. "Just move those legs a little bit more and then you'll see that you won't need Daddy to hold onto you, you'll be able to swim all by yourself!"

Peter clearly liked the sound of that and he kicked with more of a persistent rhythm and Tony didn't give any warning before letting go of the boy's waist.

"There you go, kiddo, you're a natural!" He cheered, heart melting at the pure childlike joy in his son's face at the realisation that he was keeping himself afloat on his own.

"Can I swim like you now, Daddy?" Peter asked, slightly breathless with exhilaration.

"Almost, honey," Tony laughed at his kid's boundless optimism. "We just need to get those arms moving and then you can get going," he said, using his hands to trace patterns in the water between them to demonstrate the different swimming strokes he could make.

"But I think doggy paddle is the most advanced you could reach now, bud." He smirked, laughing when his son did just that, turning round and leaning forward slightly so he could splash about in the water and propel himself with harsh kicks.

"Am I doing it right?!" Peter yelled over his shoulder, creating his own frothy bow wave as he swam in the direction of the twisty tunnel slide at the top.

Tony pushed off from the floor and floated on his side as he arrived beside his kid, where he observed his technique and carefully placed his hand underneath Peter's chin so he could lift his head up slightly.

"Just keep your chin up, bud, we don't want you swallowing the water," he instructed and soon they reached the ledge of the pool. Peter gripped onto the edge of the tiles tightly and grinned at his father when the man positioned himself close beside him, sliding his hand underneath the boy's trunk-clad bottom to securely keep him afloat.

"That was very good, Pete," Tony complimented, smiling proudly, leaning forward to playfully rub their noses together, causing the boy to shriek with giggles again. "Wanna try again?"

Peter nodded with a little cheer and the elder had a small inkling that they would be in the pool until they both turned to prunes - by the unforgiving sun rays or the chlorine in the water, who knew?

...

The Starks swam several laps for about an hour so that Peter could perfect his swimming technique and during that time, Pepper had come out on her lunch break to take a couple of photos to add to Tony's endless file created by JARVIS back when his kid was a baby - entitled Peter Anthony Stark. Tony now had footage and pictures of himself and his son in the pool from when Peter was very small and now that he had sprouted up; he was looking forward to exploring the file later.

Pepper downright cooed at Peter when he waved at her, enthusiastically, Tony cradling him in his arms protectively and supporting his kid's weight on his knee, turning his face to press an adoring kiss to his son's cheek.

"I'll leave you with your waterbaby, Mister Stark," she teased, fondly and disappeared inside.

Now that Peter was used to being in the water, Tony loved to play little games with the boy to keep him entertained and (hopefully) wear him out so he could get some sleep later on. He particularly enjoyed a game where he held Peter in his arms and sung 'Ring-a-ring a Roses' to him and pretended to drop him in the water, where Peter would release a high-pitched scream, and tightening his grip again before Peter's head could go under. Although the child could anticipate the moment where his father would 'drop' him on the line 'we all fall down!', he couldn't help but giggle maniacally when it happened, especially when his Daddy would pull him forward and kiss the tip of his nose.

Tony also loved sitting Peter on the pool ledge and holding his hips so he could bob him up and down, singing 'Humpty Dumpty' to him. No-one would have believed the day that Tony Stark would be frolicking around in a pool singing a carefree, childish tune to a four year-old, but those that were close to the billionaire had witnessed how much Tony had changed for the better since his little man came along. He had stopped drinking, partying and sleeping with random hookers; now everything he did was for Peter. He was openly affectionate, he loved hugging and kissing his baby whenever he had the chance to and Pepper, Rhodey and Happy all agreed that this soft, fatherly Tony was the best version of himself and when the two Starks were together, everything was perfect.

"Humpty Dumpty sat on the wall, Humpty Dumpty had a big fall-" Tony sung, pulling his kid into the water on the word 'fall', much to the delight of Peter, who laughed loudly at his father's playfulness.

Tony grinned, bobbing his son in the water in time to the rhythm of the song, as he relayed the last part. "All the King's horses and all the King's men put him back up on the pool side again!" He picked Peter up again and sat him on the ledge.

"Again, again!" Peter giggled, bouncing up and down on his bottom with his typical giddy, limitlessness amounts of energy.

Tony smiled, indulgently, at his kid's infectious enthusiasm, but he had other plans for them to finish off the day with.

"Scooch back a bit, honey," he requested and Peter looked confused, but he took his legs out of the water and shuffled back a few feet, allowing Tony the space to press his fore-arms onto the side and pull himself out.

"How about we try out that slide?" He suggested, inclining his head to the bigger one of the two and chuckling when the boy's face lit up and he bounced on the balls of his feet in elation.

"Yes, yes, yes!" Peter cheered, grabbing onto his father's hand and dragging him over to the steps, before letting go to hastily climb, but Tony was quick to stop him.

"Ah ah ah, not so fast, short stuff," he spoke, fencing his arm across the stairway to stop the boy from going any further, spurring a small noise of complaint from the youngster. "We'll go down together for your first go and then I'll let you go on your own, but no running up these stairs, otherwise you'll fall and hurt yourself. Capiche?"

"Okay," Peter agreed with a nod and Tony moved his arm, happy to see his kid climbing up at a slower pace.

When they reached the top, Tony sat himself down at the opening to the dark tunnel and patted the space in front of him, invitingly. "C'mere, bud." He spread his legs into a 'v' shape as Peter sat between them and settled against his father's sturdy chest, who wrapped his arms around his son's body, protectively. He was glad that he had elected to take the boy's sodden t-shirt off before, knowing that his kid would prefer the skin to skin contact at this point and he had to admit that he loved it too.

"Alright, you ready, bug?" Tony asked and when Peter nodded against him, he slipped off the edge and they were plunged into darkness as they slid down. Peter shrieked in glee as they went down and the man held onto him tightly when they dropped off at the end. Tony smiled at his kid and used his hand to slick back the boy's hair from where it got stuck to his fore-head after being submerged, holding him close.

"You're getting a bit greasy here, kiddo, we should get you cleaned up," Tony commented.

"Aww, can't we go again, Daddy? Please?" Peter begged, puppy dog eyes in full force at the possibility of them stopping their fun.

"Alright, Pete," Tony chuckled. "Just another half hour and then we need to get going."

...

Later on, after they both had a triple chocolate ice cream sundae with a wafer and strawberry sauce, Tony carried Peter to the bathroom and ran him a lukewarm bath.

Whilst the boy was happily playing with his toy whale and plastic boat, squeezing the spout in his face causing him to burst into a fit of giggles, Tony used Johnson's two in one baby shampoo to wash his kid's hair. Peter released a huge yawn once his curls were rinsed out and the father smiled, fondly, glad that they had left the pool when they had.

"C'mere you," he murmured, lifting his son's small body into his arms and wrapping him up in a soft, fluffy cream towel. Peter remained docile in his hold, allowing himself to be manhandled into his two piece pajamas with small rockets on the black shorts.

He carried him to his room and tucked him underneath the Star Wars themed duvet, skipping the strawberry milkshake and bedtime story as Peter could barely keep him eyes open and he released a small hum of content when he was placed in his bed.

"Go to sleep, baby, we'll hit the pool again tomorrow," Tony murmured, combing his fingers through his kid's curls, baby soft and springy after his bath. Peter gave a sleepy snuffle, nuzzling his face into the pillow and Tony didn't think he could love someone as much as he did this little human.

He bent forward and placed a soft kiss on his fore-head. "Love you, sweetheart..."

Chapter Text

When Tony first woke up in that dark, grungy, nightmarish cave in Afghanistan with the electromagnet embedded in his chest, stopping the shrapnel shards from his own missile from entering his heart, the first thought to enter his mind aside from pure panic was Peter.

The place beneath his chin, above his heart where a grimy chunk of metal now lived, was Peter's spot. It was his safe space; the reassurance, the protection - where he could hear his father's steady and constant heart beat beneath his sturdy chest

Peter was seven now and this ritual between father and son had begun way back when the child was very small. Of course, he didn't remember the first time he nuzzled his head underneath the man's chin and marked the spot above his heart as his own, but Tony did.

Although it was cliché for any parent to identify their child as a 'little angel', Stark couldn't think of another way to describe his Peter when he was a little baby and he didn't have the heart to try and find an alternate description.

A baby who fit so snugly into his strong arms and rested against his broad chest that he didn't know how he survived before without his precious bundle. Ten tiny fingers, ten tiny toes, a button nose, beautiful dark chocolate brown eyes inherited from himself and delicately soft chestnut curls beginning to grow across his fragile scalp.

Not only did Tony have an adorable and handsome little man to gush about, but Peter also turned out to be a surprisingly easy baby to care for, something which made the billionaire genuinely consider whether his baby had been swapped at birth because there wasn't a possibility that a Stark could be so disciplined and thoughtful, or so he thought.

The more time he spent with his son, the more he knew deep in his heart that there would never be another human being whom he loved as much as his baby; the night of Peter's first experience of a thunderstorm confirmed that.

It didn't take a genius like Tony to mentally note that Peter didn't like loud noises after the first several months of caring for the baby. That much was certain from the time that the billionaire accidentally dropped his mug of coffee on the floor in his haste to grab a screwdriver whilst fixing a circuit board down in the Lab.

Tony had built a rocking chair for Peter down there as the kid often screamed and cried relentlessly if he was separated from his father, so Tony had went out of his way to create a safe area in his workshop for Peter to reside whilst he was working on his inventions. There was a baby proof soft foam mat underneath the rocking chair, as well as a few toys for Peter to occupy himself with if he needed entertainment, although the kid often preferred to simply sit in his rocking chair and watch his father working, occasionally letting out a few giggles and squeals of excitement when Tony turned to speak to him.

Whenever Pepper would come down to inform Tony of business and Peter was there, she would most likely get distracted by the adorable sight of Tony's admirable parenting skills and the sweet way he would speak to and interact with his son.

Peter's ability to cope with louder, more prolonged sounds such as AC/DC playing in the background on a consistent loop or the TV blaring out whilst Tony tinkered, surprised the billionaire as sudden and unpredictable noises often resulted in the kid bursting into tears at the sudden shock of them and Tony would have to cuddle him for several minutes, planting small kisses all over his little pudgy face to reassure him that he was safe and that his Daddy would always protect him from bad things.

Tony would think that something was seriously wrong with his parenting skills if his own kid cried when he requested JARVIS to play AC/DC which was practically everyday. As one would imagine, thunderstorms were a nightmare for poor Peter and his fear of loud, unforeseeable and neither Stark got a decent night's sleep when the foreboding black clouds rolled in from across the sea.

Tony remembered it perfectly the first time Peter's tiny head rested on the spot just above his heart because it just so happened to be one of the worst storm patterns to hit Malibu and Peter had just turned eleven months old so the man knew that he was in for a rough night with his kid.

At the first strike of lightning and the inevitable impending boom of thunder which followed, Peter was immediately woken up and began crying in fright at the foreign sound against his sensitive ear drums. Unfortunately, it took a couple more flashes and bangs for the exhausted father to become aroused from his slumber, however, JARVIS was just as reliable as ever to instantly inform the incoherently grumbling billionaire about his son's current condition.

"Sir, the young sir appears to be in severe distress as a result of the storm pattern above the mansion, I would suggest-"

"Yep, J, I got'im," Tony slurred in a gravelly tone, eyelids still caked together with sleep and he roughly scraped a hand over his face as he unsteadily climbed out of bed. The next boom of thunder startled him into full consciousness and the anguish-filled cry from next door instantly traveled through the walls, spurring the genius to increase his pace as he hobbled through the doorway.

Peter was standing in his crib, tiny hands gripping tightly onto the bars, his cheeks tinged red from crying for a prolonged amount of time and Tony couldn't imagine what kind of pain his kid's sensitive eardrums must have been submitted to after every rumble of the sky above them. He cursed himself for not waking up sooner whilst his child was suffering alone next door.

As soon as the boy saw his father enter the nursery, he stretched his small arms through the gaps between the bars of his crib, hands grabbing at the open air between them as his desperate sobs seemed to grow thicker and Tony wasted no time in crossing the room and lifting his distressed baby into his arms. 

"Hey, pal, shh, shh. I know, I know..." He cooed, quietly, holding his son's little body close and rocking him slightly from side to side, placing delicate kisses to the boy's temple.

"Yeah, storms aren't fun are they bud..." He muttered, sympathetically, resting his chin atop the baby soft curls on his son's head and nuzzling his nose in to inhale the sweet scent of the Johnson's baby shampoo which he had carefully applied that morning. 

Tony became down heartened when after a few more minutes of cuddling and swaying from side to side, Peter still didn't show any signs of calming down. In fact, his frantic wailing and squirming around uncomfortably in the man's strong arms only seemed to increase when the next bolt of lightning flashed outside the window, causing a sudden bright light to illuminate the dark room; thunder resonated throughout the mansion.

Peter clutched at his father's grey pajama top desperately with tiny fingers and Tony's heart broke at the force of the sobs coming from his kid. He kissed Peter right on his squashy face and spoke to the ceiling, "J, give me something, the kid's gonna pass out on me in a minute." He ran a hand soothingly up and down his son's onesie clad back, but it made little to no difference for his baby's mood.

"I would recommend taking the young sir down to the Lab. The walls are sound-proofed and it may help to soothe him," JARVIS replied and Tony internally cursed himself for a second time for not thinking of that sooner; he certainly wasn't on the top of his game like usual that evening.

"Alright, c'mon buddy," he murmured, even though Peter was making too much noise to actually hear what he was saying, but he knew that the sound of his voice usually helped to settle his baby so it was worth a try.

Tony made his way down the corridor, not before grabbing Peter's bear themed teething ring, which the boy immediately latched onto, gumming sadly between cries. He skipped down the steps, breathing a sigh of relief when the glass door closed shut behind him.

"Shh, it's okay now, baby, it's alright..." Tony soothed, bouncing his son up and down slightly with one hand and stroking his back in slow circles with the other as he made his way over to the treatment bed. 

Tony shrugged his arm out of his night shirt whilst he placed Peter in the middle of the bed so he wouldn't wriggle off and he made quick work of removing his top, discarding it on the floor. Peter was still gumming on the ring, big brown eyes leaking tears as he gazed miserably up at his father. He reached his little arm up to be held again.

"Dada," he whimpered around the toy and Tony's heart tore.

"Shh, Daddy's right here, baby..." He spoke, softly, leaning down to kiss his son's tears away, his fingers trailing down to unbutton the onesie and sliding it off so the baby was left in his nappy.

He lifted his son back into his arms and scooted onto the slightly reclined bed so that he could lean back and old the boy against his bare sturdy chest.

"There you go...how's that, honey?" He murmured, thumb caressing the back of his baby's fragile neck as Peter's cries tapered off and were replaced with small snuffles and coos as he nuzzled his face in the spot just below the man's chin, little body raising and falling with every breath and Tony could practically feel the strings tugging at his heart at the simple innocent action.

He dropped his chin to press a sweet kiss to the top of his son's head, smiling into his hair as he cherished the feeling of his kid safe and warm in his arms. This was now his favourite thing to do with his son and it soon became Peter's favourite thing as well - the place above his father's heart and underneath his chin, the place where he rested his head and felt safe - it was Peter's spot.

...

Now that Tony had a chunk of metal embedded in his chest, the object that was keeping him alive would also stop him from comforting his child the way he always had.

Whilst he was put through hell in that dingy cave in Afghanistan, all he thought of was Peter. It was the only thing that kept him going and he became even more determined when he watched Yinsen die right in front of him, the man who had saved his life twice in the short amount of time that they had known each other.

He wouldn't waste his life, he would do right by his son, his legacy, and do right by all those people whose lives had been ruined because of his selfishness.

Once he had been rescued and shut down Stark Industries' production of his weapons, Peter was the one thing on his mind and he wasn't going to let anything separate them again. The only time that his son wasn't with him when he returned was when Pepper changed his arc reactor for a sleeker model; he certainly didn't want his young kid seeing that his Daddy had a hole in his chest, but he also knew that it was unavoidable to tell Peter the truth about why he had been gone for so long.

However, it didn't mean that he couldn't deny the inevitable so that he could think of the best way to explain to his kid that he had been kidnapped, tortured and almost died if it weren't for the hunk of metal in the place where Peter had always lay his head for comfort.

Tony wasn't given much time to think on that as Peter clung to him from the moment he returned home and there was no way that he could hide his disability any longer. Peter was clearly exhausted as he hadn't slept properly for the three months that Tony had been gone and no matter how hard he tried to keep his eyes open, he clonked out a couple episodes into Spongebob Squarepants. The emotional strain and catharsis of finally being reunited with his father must have taken it out of his young body, but at least he fell asleep only about an hour before his bedtime and was getting the much needed rest. 

Tony went down to his Lab to begin work on the Mark II, but decided to go to bed at a reasonable time as he didn't want to be too far away from his kid and become too engrossed in his new project.

In an odd sense of déjà vu, the genius was startled into consciousness by the distressed screams of his son crying out for him. He had spent three months imagining his child: his chocolate brown eyes, his baby soft chestnut curls; the smell of his watermelon shampoo; the sweet sound of his laughter and how it always seemed to light up the room; his cheeky grin and fierce intelligence for someone so young - every little detail about Peter Stark, he remembered and cherished.

Now that they were finally back together, Tony wasn't going to miss out on any more of his kid's life and now Peter needed to know that his Daddy was never going to leave again, not if he could help it.

"Daddy! No, don't go! Daddy!" Peter screeched, hysterically, the horrific sound of his baby screaming out for him bringing a lump to his throat as he raced towards the source of the heart-breaking cries. 

Peter was wailing, wriggling and squirming about in the tangled mess that was his Star Wars themed bed sheets and Tony wasted no time in rushing over to wrestle his kid into his arms.

"Hey, hey, shh...I'm right here baby, Daddy's right here, shh..." Tony soothed, gently rocking them back and forth as he cradled his son in his lap, holding him tightly to stop his poor boy from shaking uncontrollably after whatever witnessing horrific images his little head had created.

All the while he had to navigate his child's head so that he wouldn't accidentally hurt himself by banging against the arc reactor and it killed him that he couldn't comfort his baby like he always had. Luckily, Peter had been too tired earlier to even notice the metal dish but there was no stopping him from seeing it now.

Tony leaned against the headboard, pressing kisses to Peter's hair whilst using one hand to comb his fingers through the fluffy curls, caressing the scalp tenderly and the little boy's cries gradually began to taper off.

"Shh, that's it, buddy. Deep breaths, in and out, in and out...Daddy's got you, I'm right here..." He whispered, ignoring the familiar burn at the back of his eyes as he continued his tender strokes of his son's curls and providing as much comfort as possible. 

"Daddy, Daddy please don' leave again, please! I'll be good, I promise!" Peter sobbed, pressing his tear stained face into his father's broad shoulder, fisting the man's pajama top in his small hands and deeply inhaling his Daddy's unique scent to help calm him.  

"Hey, hey, shh...Where's all this coming from, little man?" Tony asked in concern, heart tearing at his son's words.

How could he think that his father would ever leave him out of choice? He gently moved the boy's head away from his shoulder, ignoring the little whimpers and whines of protest in favour of cupping his child's face and delicately brushing away the curs from his fore-head.

Before he could speak, however, the words were instantly erased from his train of thought when Peter became distracted by the blue glow from the arc reactor which appeared hazy to the teary eyed boy. Peter softly tapped the silvery edge of the arc reactor with his fingertips. 

"What's this, Daddy?" Peter asked with a sniffle, confusion and curiosity etched across his young features.

"That's Daddy's night light, honey," Tony replied quietly, without even thinking about what he was going to say, but the words seemed to spew from his mouth naturally and just sounded right to his ears.

"You remember I told you about the bad men who wanted Daddy to build them something he didn't want to?"

Peter nodded, glancing up at him with wide eyes at the mention of the people responsible for keeping his Daddy away from him. 

"Well, those bad men hurt me here-", Tony gestured towards his heart. "-but a very good friend of mine fixed me up and this keeps my heart working now, it's called an arc reactor. That's why I was gone for so long, kiddo, I had to find a way to escape the bad men, it was nothing that you did." He explained around the lump in his throat, thumb stroking the boy's tears away from his cheek as he managed a shaky smile on trembling lips.

Peter scrutinized the metal object with intelligent eyes and the billionaire could practically see his brain calculating, but the sensation of his child's small fingers examining the thing that was keeping him alive felt oddly soothing.

"Does it hurt?" Peter asked innocently, blinking those big brown eyes up at him and they were full of concern, as if he, as seven year-old boy, should be worrying about his father's health.

Tony smiled, indulgently, carding his hand through his kid's curls again.

"Not really, bud," he replied, honestly, admiring the boy's irrevocable selfless nature. "It's a bit like you've fallen over and grazed your knees and you can feel it stinging on and off," he explained and it wasn't entirely true, but he didn't want to scare the poor kid.

Peter snickered a little at the description and then, unexpectedly, he leaned forward and rested his cheek against the glowing metal in an act that was startlingly similar to that first time his son had claimed that area of his father's chest as his own.

"You can be my nightlight now, Daddy," Peter giggled, softly, nuzzling his cheek against the spot and finding the quiet hum of the electricity flowing through the device incredible calming. It was strange that he couldn't hear his Daddy's heartbeat now, but he liked the blue glow of his arc reactor just as much. 

Tony chuckled, quietly, tucking his chin to drop an affectionate kiss into his son's curls, coarse fingers beginning to comb through his son's hair again.

"God, I love you so much, baby," he murmured into the boy's locks and hugging him close against his brawny chest. 

"Love you too, Daddy," Peter spoke, nestling his face on top of the arc reactor, a sleepy smile forming on his face and a small hum of approval and contentment escaping him as his father gently tickled across his scalp with his fingernails.

"I think 'm ready t'go sleep now..." He mumbled, basking in the warmth and security of being in his Daddy's protective, loving embrace. He could feel his father smile against his hairline and another soft chuckle vibrated through his skull.

"Then go to sleep, bud. I'm staying right here with you, honey," Tony whispered, arms tightening around his precious bundle a fraction more as he pressed his lips to his son's temple.

He never received a verbal answer, only the small snores and sleepy snuffles of a very cosy little boy and Tony wouldn't have it any other way. Peter was finally where he belonged, safe and warm in his father's arms.

Chapter Text

“Higher, Petey! Higher!” Morgan yelled, giggling hysterically as she swung back and forth in the summery air, her older brother maintaining a tight grip on her hands to prevent her from falling and injuring herself.

Peter was hanging on a low tree branch beside his younger sibling’s tent by his legs and was holding the little girl’s hands to playfully swing her back and forward, using his superior upper body strength to keep a steady momentum.

He laughed, fondly, at her enthusiastic request and rearranged his position slightly so that he had a decent angle to perform a better stunt, body filling with warmth and affection for the little girl when her infectious, adorable and hysterical giggles bounced off the trees around them.

“Not too high, Morg, otherwise Dad will have to come save you!” Peter joked, knowing that if the worse did happen and he accidentally let go of his sister’s hands, he wouldn’t be in the best of positions to catch her, especially as he currently wasn’t dressed in his suit so there was no relying on his webs this time.

Fortunately, before he could dwell too much on that disturbing thought, he spotted his mentor crossing the garden over to where they were playing, a distinct animated vigour in his swagger which exemplified his vibrant mood at seeing the youngsters playing together.

“Whatcha doin’, SpiderBoy? Not planning on converting my second born into the youngest astronaut in the United States, are you?” Tony quipped, stopping a short distance away from the duo, hands casually sliding into his pockets as he observed the chaotic scene with an eyebrow raised in barely concealed amusement and head tilted to an angle to take the ‘show’ in.

“It was her idea!” Peter retorted, still swinging back and forth relentlessly as Morgan squealed in delight at the newfound heights accomplished with the gesture.

“If anything, it’s kinda your fault, Iron Man! She’s ridiculously intuitive to her role model!” He teased, although he couldn’t be more accurate considering the fact that the father had to hide the anniversary gift for his wife in a strictly confidential area of the garage now to stop his five-year-old from getting hold of a potentially dangerous titanium alloy helmet.

Tony chortled at the similar choice of wording from the Spiderling to what he had used before, even though those were less than pleasant circumstances it had still been a moment of light banter between close allies before the worst outcome in both of their lives had shortly come to pass following their rescue of Doctor Stephen Strange. Shaking the memory from his head and the unsettling emotions that came with it, he smiled indulgently as his daughter called to him.

“Daddy catch me!” Morgan shrieked; Peter holding off on releasing his tight grip until he was certain that his mentor was on high alert (as if the father of two’s natural paternal instincts weren’t already in full gear upon seeing the youngsters performing such a daring feat).

He only let go when Tony gave the clear with a single approving nod on sombre, calculating features and Peter released his grip as soon as he swung back forward, the little girl letting out a huge ‘weeeeeee!’ as she flew across the short distance between them, landing in her father’s welcoming open arms with a small ‘oof!’ from the sudden impact.

“Not bad! We’ll make a smashing pilot out of you yet, little miss,” Tony joked, steadying her in his strong arms and pressing an affectionate kiss to her flushed cheek, balancing her light weight on his hip.

“But we can’t forget your dear older brother’s divine influence on your impressive skills, now can we?” He added, raising his head and shooting the slightly breathless teen a mischievous wink and grin, which Peter returned before hoisting himself back up onto the low hanging branch to stretch his stiff limbs from being upside down for an extended period of time.

“Appreciate the long overdue acknowledgement!” Peter hollered over his shoulder, as he climbed down the tree and wandered over to the duo.

“Hmm, I think Petey is feeling a bit jealous of the true star of the show here,” Tony mused, smirking at the little girl in his arms who giggled at his playful tone of voice and shook her head.

“Nooo, Petey’s the best!” She declared, reaching her arms out to the dumbfounded teen, who then grinned triumphantly as he absorbed her words and took his little sister from the flabbergasted billionaire, the expression of whom caused the Spiderling to dissolve into hysterical laughter as he cuddled his partner in crime fondly.

“Little shits the both of you,” Tony stated, dryly, but the twinkle of humour in his dark chocolate eyes juxtaposed the bluntly spoken claim. Even so, Peter mock gasped at the empty statement, chuckling at the squeak of outrage from Morgan.

“That’s mummy’s naughty word!” She divulged, expression adorable serious and disapproving.

“You love us really,” Peter announced, playing along with the joke just to see an arise out of the older man and he was rewarded for his declaration when the corner of Tony’s lips twitched up in a warm smile, dark eyes sparkling with unspoken and unconditional love for his pair of troublemakers.

“Can’t argue with that, SpiderBaby,” He spoke, earnestly, wrapping his arms around them both protectively and kissing each of their fore-heads in an outright display of affection, causing them to giggle, quietly, a rosy blush dusting the teen’s cheeks.

It still filled him with warmth when his mentor confessed his love for him so openly even though they weren’t even related, not that that mattered to either party as their fondness for each other and undeniable trust forged over the past couple years had cemented their relationship to be stronger than that of a typical mentor and student.

According to Tony, Peter snugly fit into their small family unit like a missing piece of a puzzle and the overwhelming sense of relief after five years of indescribable suffering whilst trying to come to terms with the loss of the kid, only to meet with him again on the battlefield had never quite left the genius.

Every interaction with the young superhero, every smile, every gesture, every word spoken – they only cemented his loving feelings for the Spiderling that were spurred from paternal instincts that had only grown stronger since Morgan’s arrival.

“Speaking of my little trapeze artists, we ready for a trip to the fair?” Tony asked, smiling when Morgan cheered in excitement, wriggling around in her brother’s arms to be put down.

“Yay! Help me put my sneakers on, Petey!” She yelled, giddy with purely innocent childlike energy and she grabbed onto the teen’s hand to pull him towards the cabin, impatiently.

“Okay, squirt, I’m coming! Don’t rip my arm out,” Peter chuckled, stumbling over his feet at the persistent tugs of the surprisingly strong five-year-old and set about at a brisk pace after regaining his footing. Tony followed along behind them, the bright smile never leaving his face.

…

“Into the unknown, into the unknown, into the unknown!” Morgan belted from the back row of the car, where she was kicking her legs cheerfully as the Frozen II hammered through each speaker.

Between her loud singing and the boom of the whimsical, well known tune for the Stark household at this point, the older occupants of the Audi were beginning to form a slight headache, but they were used to it by now and certainly didn’t have the heart to stop the girl’s joyous glee.

“Your turn next to pick the tune, Pete, don’t worry,” Tony spoke, loud enough for Peter to hear with his super senses, but quiet enough so that Morgan could continue to enjoy her song in peace.

Peter scoffed from where he was leaning his head against the window, smirking at the man from the passenger seat.

“I don’t mind, it’s good to hear her laugh,” he remarked, turning around to face his sister with an indulgent grin, before joining her in rhyming off the feel-good lyrics to the music number.

By the time they reached the local fairground, Tony’s head was buzzing with Disney songs and the bright voices of his children ringing in his ears, but he wouldn’t have it any other way on a lovely sunny day like this. He was going to spoil the kids rotten today, just because he could, and they deserved the world.

He pulled into a free space and jumped out to help Morgan out of her booster seat, chuckling at the sweet way she reached out with grabby hands, wriggling about in elated anticipation as she took in the sights and scents of the fairground just a few yards away.

“Alright,” Tony heaved comically after placing her on the muddy ground. “Stay close, little miss,” he instructed, lightly, watching as Peter came around the back of the car and offered his hand to the little girl, who happily took it.

“You gonna let Pete pick the first ride after you hogged the entire car journey?” He teased, ruffling her dark hair and she nodded in agreement with a giggle.

After paying for their tickets, Peter lead them to the bumper cars, grinning devilishly.

“How about it, old man? The squirt and I versus…” He began but was quickly halted when the elder playfully pushed him in the chest upon hearing the derogatory term, causing the words to leave the boy in a puff of air and laughter.

“Nice try, Underoos, but you’re not too old to have that sassy mouth washed out with soap!” Tony quickly retorted, pulling his daughter to his side. “Maguna’s on my side this time, so let’s see how tough you are, kid,” he teased, who just laughed at their boisterous banter.

Peter stuck his tongue out at them. “You’re on! Prepare to get your butts kicked!”

…

After a couple of rounds on the bumpers, where Peter reluctantly accepted defeat being no match for two stubborn Starks determined to assert their victory, the family opted for a less stressful ride with the Disney themed Carousel.

Tony proved himself to be the soft, doting Dad he had become since meeting Peter and having Morgan, by goading the kids to go on the Dumbo carriages by themselves as an opportunity for him to take a few photos to either send to Pepper whilst she was having the day to herself, or frame on the wall in his office.

Following this, Tony bought each of them a hotdog and Peter managed to win Morgan a stuffed cream teddy bear, which was almost as big as her, by playing a good hand at the target shooting stall. She had hugged the toy tightly, laying little kisses across its head, before throwing her arms around the teen’s waist and pressing kisses into his stomach in a true Morgan-style demonstration of gratitude.

At around half three, after plenty of consumption of cotton candy and a couple more goes on the Ferris wheel, they headed towards the circus tent to catch one of the performances before they decided to call it a day. Morgan was happily running ahead, clutching her new teddy under one arm, but Peter was noticeably quieter than he had been before.

Tony slung an arm around the teen’s shoulders. “How you doin’, pal?” He asked, softly, concern marking his handsome features as he observed the slightly pale complexion of the youngster’s face and the small frown that had formed on his lips.

He had been careful to ensure that both children hadn’t eaten too much junk food, so he hoped Peter wasn’t feeling ill because of it as that wouldn’t be the most pleasant way to end the day with the poor kid throwing up in a dirty, well-used toilet cubicle in the middle of a field.

“You’re not feeling sick, are you?” He voiced his fears, relieved when the boy quickly shook his head in answer to his question.

“No no, I’m fine. Good actually, this is really fun,” Peter replied, turning his head to smile at the man, who returned it and rubbed his hand reassuringly up and down the teen’s shoulder before they were interrupted by Morgan skipping back to see what the hold up was.

“Yes yes, we’re coming, Maguna!” Tony laughed at her persistence, rolling his eyes good-naturedly. “You know some of us can’t keep up with little balls of energy like you.”

Once inside the circus tent, the crowd was already quite busy, but they managed to get seats which were fairly close to the performance ring which was good news for the smallest one of the bunch.

The first act consisted of trapeze artists staging various tricks with the help of ropes and bars attached to strings; Peter was fondly reminded of his playing with Morgan that morning and took note of a few of the positions to perhaps try out with his little sister another time.

However, the churning feeling of dread he had been experiencing earlier begun to make itself known again towards the end of the performance, as he awaited the inevitable announcement of the clowns making an appearance. He wasn’t entirely sure why, but he had always had a phobia of them ever since he was young, and he always rationalised that it was because he didn’t know who the people were behind the painted faces and this always bothered him.

These complete strangers could be secretly dangerous for all he knew and the image of a fake smile on a heavily made up face never failed to send shivers down his spine. When his mentor had asked him whether he was well, it hadn’t surprised him that the man appeared so worried about him, because he could practically feel the blood draining from his face at the mere mention of a circus, but he didn’t want to spoil the fun for Morgan, so he chose to keep his anxiety to himself.

Unfortunately, at the cheerful announcement courtesy of the ringmaster that the next act would be the clowns performing, Peter couldn’t have halted the uncontrollable shiver which wracked through his body, causing him to sit rigidly in his seat and grip onto the armrests tightly.

The sudden change in his body language was enough to alert his mentor to his rapidly deteriorating state, even though Morgan sat on Peter’s right, was happily cheering with the rest of the audience. Tony glanced down at the kid, brow furrowing in intense concern as he took in the boy’s pale face and firmly composed features, jawline hard and brown eyes wide with fear.

“Kid, you okay?” Tony asked, frantically, although still keeping his voice low to almost a whisper so he wouldn’t distract those around them from the show, firmly grasping the teen’s wrist to catch his attention.

Peter turned his wide-eyed gaze on the man and leaned in close so could quietly murmur in a foreign sounding high-pitched tone, “I’m scared of clowns. S-sorry, it’s so s-stupid, b-but I can’t help it…”

Tony breathed a sigh of relief now that he knew that the kid wasn’t suffering from a serious panic attack and he let out a small noise which sounded like a coo to the boy’s enhanced hearing, wrapping his free arm around the teen’s shoulders and placing a soft kiss in his curls.

“It’s alright, bud, it’s not stupid at all,” Tony spoke into the boy’s hair in a reassuring tone, rubbing his hand up and down Peter’s arm, soothingly.

“You should have said something, I was afraid of fucking water at one point remember,” he teased, lightly, in an attempt to brighten the mood and calm the poor kid down, even though the bad memories which voicing his train of thought brought up certainly wasn’t aiding his own anxiety. “You wanna get outta here?”

Peter shifted slightly so that his head was now resting on his mentor’s shoulder, where he could hear the constant steady beat of the man’s heart and the comforting sense of security, which he only felt when he was with his father figure, heighten when Tony rested his cheek against his curls.

“N-no, I’ll be okay, don’t wanna spoil it for her,” he whispered, glancing towards Morgan, who was giddily bouncing up and down in her seat in anticipation for the finale of the show.

Tony hummed in thought above him, the sound vibrating in his chest, close to Peter’s ear and, strangely, it helped to calm his rapid heartbeat even more.

“Then I guess we’re staying right here then,” the elder murmured and by the way he tightened his hold on the boy, hand slipping down his wrist to rest over his white-knuckled hand, confirmed to Peter that he wasn’t referring to simply staying in the tent, but remaining cuddled close to one another.

The corner of Peter’s lips tugged up into a touched smile, whole body filling from head to toe at the tenderness of the man’s soft declaration and he nuzzled his face closer to the crook of his mentor’s neck, heart fluttering when he felt Tony’s lips turn so he could place another delicate kiss to the top of his head.

The warmth of the man’s hand above his smaller one grounded him into reality and even though he was subjected to one of his deep-rooted fears, watching the clowns perform their jokes and interact with their audience, the soothing presence of his mentor and the constant reminder of his unconditional love and protection over the boy was enough to encourage the teen’s breathing to remain steady, heart full of warmth and gratitude.

When the show finally finished, Tony raised his head from where it had been resting on Peter’s, thumb giving one last caress across the boy’s hand before returning it his own to rest casually on the teen’s wrist, turning his attention to his youngest, who was happily babbling away, rhyming off every little detail of the clowns’ act.

“Alright, Morg,” Tony effectively cut her off, sensing the fact that the people beside them had almost collected their belongings and would need to get out in a moment. “You can chirp to your heart’s content in a minute, but we’ve got to let these people out, okay?” He chuckled, making eye contact with Peter, whose colour to his cheeks had visibly returned and was now smiling at his little sister’s infectious joy.

“Oh! Okay, lemme get Olaf!” Morgan said, jumping off her seat and reaching down to grab her teddy. The boys both shared an amused smirk at the toy’s new name and rose to follow her out of the crowded tent.

…

“Well, kiddos, where are we rating the fair on the days out with Dad scale?” Tony asked, as they walked at a leisurely pace down the boardwalk back to the car.

The sun was beginning to set, the humid air feeling at its hottest and Peter had tied his blue zip-up hoodie around his waist; Morgan having followed suit with her lightweight purple jumper and Tony’s dark grey sweater.

In his free hand, the teenager had a mint chocolate chip ice cream which they were all taking turns in tasting, his other hand occupied with his little sister, who had taken hold of both her father’s and brother’s so that they could playfully swing her up in the air whilst they walked; under Tony’s free arm was Morgan’s cream teddy bear.

“Hmm, seven point five. Might’ve been higher, but you know the reason why,” Peter answered after giving the ice cream a lick, glancing at the man in the corner of his eye, being too embarrassed to admit his reservations in front of his five-year-old sister.

Tony mock gasped, but the warm tinge to his dark eyes contrasted with his animated expression, reassuring Peter that his phobia would remain an unspoken secret only shared between the two of them.

“I’m wounded, Pete, but I’ll let you off the hook this time,” he quipped, smiling empathetically. “What about you, little miss? We worn you out yet?” He lifted his arm so that Morgan swung up between them, causing her to squeal and giggle delightfully as a result.

“Ten!” She cheered, brightly. “Best day ever!”

“It was really awesome,” Peter added, despite the creepy image of the clowns still remaining a recent memory in his mind, but it certainly didn’t overshadow how much fun he had today.

“Thanks, Dad.” The affectionate smile and impish wink he received in return of the use of the term of endearment was enough to erase the image of the clowns from his mind entirely. Dad will always protect you from the scary monsters…

Chapter Text

Peter woke bright and early on the morning of the twenty first of June to an equally dazzling day, the sun streaming through the thin gap between his grey coloured curtains and beaming onto his face. He had purposefully left them open slightly so that he could be woken up by the natural light outside the cabin, as he had an important task to get to immediately.

First things first, wake up the squirt.

The teen flung the navy covers off his legs and slung his legs over the side of the bed frame, lazily pulling himself up so he could quickly check his appearance in the mirror. Apart from flattening down his messy curls, there weren’t any adjustments that needed to be done to the old MIT hoodie he had confiscated from Tony’s wardrobe, or his Hello Kitty bottoms that Tony loved to take the micky out of whenever he had the chance (but Peter secretly didn’t mind as it was one of the first objects that his mentor bought him and even though the emotional connections associated with the item of clothing weren’t very pleasant, considering that it was when Tony had taken his suit off of him, Peter had a fondness for them all the same). It was very apparent that his mentor had a not so well-hidden admiration for the pants considering the amount of times he outright cooed at the sight when Peter wandered into the living room, the teen could have sworn that the billionaire had become much softer since he returned from the Blip.

Peter quietly left his room and tiptoed past Tony and Pepper’s to the youngest member of the family’s bedroom, slipping through the crack in the doorway. The teen crept over to the bed and crawled onto the purple quilt to gently shake the young girl awake, settling himself next to her peacefully unresponsive face.

It was only half six in the morning, but Peter knew that their Dad could be an early riser, especially on a sunny day like this and the boy wanted to get his surprise undergoing as soon as possible before the man had the chance to even open his eyes, which meant getting the munchkin up with plenty of time to put their plans into motion.

Peter had pulled her aside yesterday when the adults called them in for dinner after they had been playing outside by the lake for most of the day, filling her in on what he had come up with for celebrations for Father’s Day and she was very excited to get involved, considering that this was the first time that she’d be able to make plans with her big brother after he returned to life.

“C’mon, Morg, we’ve gotta get up,” Peter coaxed, leaning in close to rub his nose against the little girl to get a response out of her and smiled, pleased when he heard a small groan and then a bout of giggles as Morgan returned to consciousness at the tickly feeling of her brother’s nose against hers.

“’top, Petey…” She mumbled, weakly pushing his face away from hers with the help of her Iron Man plushie, but Peter just smirked at her sleepy act and moved it out of the way.

“Come on, we’ve got to go make Dad’s breakfast, you don’t want him to wake up all hungry and lonely, do you?” Peter goaded, knowing that he was being a bit mean by using the old reverse psychology trick and guilt tripping his barely awake younger sister, but needs must.

He’d never celebrated a Father’s Day with Tony before and he didn’t want anything to go wrong with his plans today, hoping to show his mentor just how much he meant to him and how much their relationship had strengthened ever since he returned from the Blip.

“Oh! Yes, I remember!” Morgan exclaimed, and Peter was quick to place his hand over her mouth and bring his finger up to his lips, effectively hushing her instantly.

“Shh, we’ve got to keep quiet, otherwise we’ll wake them up. Dad’s a light sleeper,” Peter instructed, softly and when the girl nodded against his palm, he smiled, playfully, and removed his hand, before shuffling down the bed a little so that he was sat in front of her.

“Climb on, spider monkey,” he joked and hear Morgan giggling behind him, as she clambered onto his back and linked her small arms around his neck, resting her head on his shoulder.

“What we gonna make for Daddy?” She asked, as the teen shifted off the bed, so he could stand and carry her to the kitchen, using his shoulder to gently bump the door and allow them the space he needed to get through with a little human his back.

“I’ve got a few ideas, you can help me,” Peter whispered back, tiptoeing the best he could past the adults’ bedroom door, reaching the stairs and heading to the kitchen. He turned around once he got to one of the counters, sliding Morgan onto the wooden surface before walking over to the fridge to grab the items they would need to make their father’s breakfast.

“Okay, we’re gonna make pancakes first! You can mix the ingredients whilst I get the other stuff sorted,” Peter announced, grabbing a large mixing bowl and a jug.

“You can whisk the milk and eggs, you remember how to, right?” He asked, thinking back to when the two of them made a chocolate fudge cake for Pepper’s in February, smiling as he recalled the pleased and touched smile that had lit up her face and how she had wrapped them both in a bear hug, even kissing Peter on the cheek for the first time.

“Yeah, gimme!” Morgan said, excitedly making grabbing gestures towards the teen, who snickered at how adorable his little sister really was, and he handed her a fork to whisk the ingredients.

After shooting her one last glance to make sure that she was holding the utensil correctly, Peter sieved the flour and baking powder into the large mixing bowl and combined this with sugar, going off memory from when he had made pancakes with May every now and again. He turned the grill on and placed a few slices of bacon onto an oven tray, before sliding it in and straightening up to looking over at Morgan, who was doing a surprisingly thorough job of beating the milk and eggs together.

“That’s awesome, squirt, you’re a natural!” Peter praised, grinning proudly and reaching over to ruffle her dark hair and the pleased smile he received was just as bright as the sun currently rising above the horizon outside.

“Okay, do you wanna mix everything together?” He offered, sliding the bowl over to her and handing her a large spoon, watching her closely as she got to work blending all the ingredients together, the size of the bowl almost dwarfing her and causing the teen to try and hide a smirk at the endearing sight.

He found the frying pan from one of the bottom drawers and placed squeezed a little vegetable oil on it, so that the mixture wouldn’t stick, even though they were going to be using a non-stick pan. Peter just wanted everything to be perfect and he was too stubborn to think otherwise, even when he turned around to see Morgan licking her finger and dipping it into the pancake mixture to taste it.

“Morg! That’s Dad’s!” Peter exclaimed, resisting the urge to burst out laughing at her and he was reluctant to admit that he probably would have done exactly the same in any other circumstance.

“I’m just checking it for him!” She argued, defensively, a crabby expression clouding her young features which only served to emphasis how cute she looked when she attempted to act seriously.

“Yeah, I’m sure he’s going to love the taste of your spit in there, really packs a great flavour,” Peter teased, snorting at the exaggerated image in his head of Tony’s expression if he was somehow able to tell, even though the boy knew it of course wasn’t possible. He just loved to joke around with his equally as playful and good-humoured sister with every chance that he got.

Morgan’s so-called ‘Miss Grumpy Face’ remained, although she raised an eyebrow mischievously in an expression which instantly struck Peter with just how alike Tony and his daughter really were in looks and attitude, before flicking the mixture which had clung to the wooden spoon, directly at the unsuspecting teen. Peter gave a small shout as the soggy mix landed on their father’s old hoody and dribbled down his chest a little; Morgan covering her mouth to stifle her giggles as she observed the state of the sweatshirt and her brother’s mortified expression.

Peter eyed his younger sibling with a dangerous gaze, as if he was accepting a challenge set by her action and he cocked an eyebrow at the barely contained humour dancing in her dark eyes, hands on hips as he stood his ground.

“I’m gonna get you back for that, squirt,” he warned, but before he could move another muscle, the sizzling of the oil in the pan caught his attention and he rolled his eyes as he had forgot their task for a moment whilst he was teasing Morgan.

“Oops. Pass me the bowl, we’ve got to get this show on the road here,” Peter requested, ignoring the stain on his mentor’s hoody for now and pouring some of the mixture into the pan to start cooking.

“There’s some blueberries and raspberries in the fridge, do you wanna get them out and Dad’s plate too?” He asked, turning down the gas a little. Morgan nodded and slipped off the desktop to go to the fridge and collect the fruit, whilst Peter got to work with flipping the first pancake.

“Oh! We need to make his coffee too!” Peter said, glancing at the kettle and then down at his sister, before deciding against her dealing with that. He checked the pan and darted over to grab the kettle, so he could fill it up and flick the switch on.

“What’s that smell?” Morgan asked, innocently, sniffing the air and then both of their eyes suddenly widened as they had completely forgotten about the bacon whilst they were mucking about before.

“Shit!” Peter gasped, gaze darting to the five-year-old’s, whose mouth was open in shock at his outburst. “Err, don’t quote me on that or I’m in big trouble with Dad,” the teen added, hastily, turning the grill off without checking as he knew that they had overdone the bacon, before pouring in the last of the mixture to make another pancake. He had wanted to make three, but he supposed the fruit and bacon would make up for it.

“Shit,” Morgan giggled, defiantly and Peter frowned in disapproval at her, but didn’t have much time to focus on that as the kettle finished boiling.

“I’ll tell Dad!” Peter threatened, light-heartedly, giving her a little shove with his foot towards the kettle. “Can you put a spoon of coffee in his mug? I’ve got to sort this food out,” he requested, flipping the pancake and bending down to check the grill.

Morgan followed his instruction, pulling her stool out so she could reach the counter and sloppily scooping a table spoon of coffee into Tony’s mug (a red cup which they had both bought about a week ago and personally customised to feature the man’s favourite photo of his kids). Peter had been standing by the lake, laughing at a joke that Tony had said with Morgan on his shoulders, who had her chin resting on the top of his head and was grinning wildly at the camera, courtesy of Pepper managing to catch a perfect moment between the siblings, unaware of the fact that a teaspoon would have been the correct amount to put in. She had her mind on other matters, however.

“We need syrup and squirty cream,” she declared, hopping off the stool to grab the missing items from the pull-out cupboard.

Peter piled the pancakes onto the plate and sprinkled the fruit on the side, heading over to the kettle to pour their father’s coffee, whilst Morgan stood on her stood and poured and squirted a generous amount of maple syrup and cream on top of the pancakes.

Peter joined her at the desktop and placed a couple rashes of bacon beside the messy pile of sweet delicacies, before grabbing the cream can and squirting a circle right on top of Morgan’s hair. She squealed, bashing his hand away and patting her head, only resulting in her pressing the cream into her dark locks.

“You meanie!” She exclaimed, outraged, but giggling all the same as she brought a strand of hair in front of her and examined the white substance clumping her hair together.

“It’s payback, squirt,” Peter retorted with a wink and impish grin, before plucking a raspberry from the packet and holding it out to her. “Here, peace offering,” he said, which she happily popped into her mouth, whilst Peter slid the plate and the mug onto a tray. “Oh, we’ve got to grab the card before you wake him. You remember where I put it?” Peter asked.

“In the box under your bed,” she chirped, darting up the stairs and in mere minutes she was back with the envelope, sliding it next to the mug on the tray. “I’ll go wake him.” Peter smiled and rolled his eyes, jealous of the amount of energy she seemed to have at seven o’clock in the morning.

Whilst she was gone, Peter busied himself with pouring two glasses of orange juice and another cup of coffee for Pepper, feeling a little guilty that they hadn’t made any breakfast for her, but he supposed that the three of them could always help themselves to some of Tony’s if he happened to be in a generous mood (which tended to be most of the time when it came to being with his family).

A few minutes later, Morgan was tugging their father down the stairs, who was a little sluggish on his feet and was rubbing sleep out of his eye with the heel of his palm, dressed in dark sweat pants and a grey pyjama top. Pepper followed soon after.

“Morning, Happy Father’s Day,” Pete greeted, shyly, holding out the tray to the older man, who’s dark eyes flickered from the food to the teen’s face with an affectionate gaze and a small smile tugging at his lips, as if he couldn’t quite believe that his kids had gotten up so early just to make him some breakfast.

“We made you pancakes!” Morgan piped up, blissfully stating the obvious but no body had the heart to call her out on it, considering the way she was giddily bouncing up and down on the balls of her feet as she observed the genius’ reaction to his meal.

“And I see the plan was to get half of it in your hair and on your brother’s, or should I say, my hoodie?” Tony remarked, dryly, lifting a dirty lock of his daughter’s hair and scrutinizing it with amusement dancing in his dark irises, before lifting his head to wink at the teen playfully.

“This was all her idea, wasn’t it,” he stated, smirking at the state of the pair of them.

“I reckon we’re both to blame to be honest,” Peter laughed. “We just got a bit carried away, I hope you like squirty cream,” he joked, glancing down at the huge pile of it on top of the pancakes.

“Who doesn’t!” Tony retorted, waltzing over to take the tray from the teen, who sheepishly smiled and ducked his head, shyly once the man was in close proximity to him, causing the billionaire to chuckle, softly at the boy’s reservations.

From the moment he stepped into the room, it was immediately obvious to him that Peter had gone well out of his way to make this the perfect start to their very first Father’s Day together, that much was clear by the huge stack of dishes and mess on the kitchen counter, as well as the pink hue tinging the kid’s cheeks as if he was afraid to hear what the man really thought. Tony knew that there was nothing his children could make that he somehow wouldn’t appreciate; everything they did was perfect to him as it confirmed how strong and solid their family dynamic was, nothing could come between them.

“It’s perfect, Pete,” Tony spoke, honesty dripping through every syllable, as he leaned forward to press a kiss to the teen’s fore-head and spoke against his hairline, “Thank you, kiddo.”

Peter smiled at the tender gesture, rubbing the back of his neck as he watched Tony turn to bend down and kiss the top of Morgan’s head in turn.

“Mmm, I could just eat you all up, little miss,” He joked, tasting the sweet flavour of the squirty cream in her hair, causing her to giggle hysterically.

“No, Daddy, eat the pancakes!” She objected, pushing his face away.

Pepper was observing the interactions between her husband and the kids with soft eyes, her heart always melting when he demonstrated how much he loved them through simple gestures like a warm smile and a quick peck on the fore-head. Tony really couldn’t get enough of his children and neither could they.

“Come on, munchkin, let’s get this mess out of your hair before it sticks to it,” she announced with a low chuckle, lifting her little one into her arms, who automatically wound her arms around Pepper’s neck.

“But Daddy has to open his card!” Morgan protested, vehemently.

“Don’t panic, I’ll eat this scrumptious breakfast first and won’t open it until you’ve made yourself more presentable,” Tony promised, flashing his signature grin and the unmistakable tease in his tone of voice.

“Yay!” Morgan cheered, causing them all to laugh, indulgently, and Pepper whisked her away upstairs to give her a quick rinse in the bath.

…

Peter ended up sharing the breakfast with Tony, the both of them choosing not to comment on the well overdone bacon and overpowering sweetness of the pancakes, thanks to Morgan’s insistence on applying a huge amount of cream and syrup to the pancakes.

However, Tony had taken one unsuspecting sip of his coffee and his face instantly creased up in displeasure at the very strong, unpleasant flavour and he knew that his little one had been responsible for that, but what encouraged him to continue drinking it was the photo. He was pleased that Peter knew that it was his favourite picture of his kids, because he loved the way their smiles almost mimicked each other and how happy they were in that one moment, just like they should be all the time.

Peter blushed a little again when Tony first lifted the mug to his lips and observed the photo with soft, warm eyes before turning his gaze on the teen and smiling that secret smile that he only ever shared with his kids. It made Pete feel like electricity had just darted through his entire body and it immediately put him at ease.

“So, you got any more top-secret plans stashed up in that smart head of yours, kid?” Tony asked, after feeding the teen a forkful of pancakes.

“I was thinking that we could go have a picnic and take the boat out,” Peter said, swallowing his food and taking a drink of his orange juice. “What do you think?” He inquired, observing the man’s expression intently and Tony could detect the small tinge of apprehension in his tone.

He sighed in exasperation, shaking his head with an indulgent smile.

“I think that it’s perfect and that you need to stop worrying so much. It’s just another ordinary day, kid, it doesn’t matter that the world labels it as the day children should give their old man a bit more attention for one day, how superficial is that?” He voiced his own thoughts and instantly regretted it when he heard how derogatory and insensitive the words sounded to his ears when the teen had obviously gone to all this effort to make the day seem special and he didn’t want to take that away from Peter, but he also didn’t think that the poor kid should have put so much pressure on himself in the first place.

Peter was eying him with a calculating look, nibbling his bottom lip like he often did when he was thinking, and Tony’s gaze softened at the endearing sight. His brow wrinkled for a brief moment, before he popped a blueberry in his mouth, having always had a great liking for them, and leaned forward to place the semi-empty plate and tray on the table.

“C’mere, Pete,” he requested, holding his arm out as an invitation, knowing that the teen couldn’t refuse, and it was only a second before Peter shuffled over and hesitantly rested his head on Tony’s broad shoulder, allowing the man to wrap his arm around the boy’s shoulder and cuddle him close.

“What are we doing right now?” He asked, quietly, leaning his head against his kid’s and patiently waiting for him to speak.

“Um…n-nothing, just sitting. Hugging I guess?” Peter mumbled, uncertain on where this was leading.

“Mhm…” Tony hummed, the sound vibrating through his chest and against the teen’s shoulder. “…and we sit like this every time I see you; we cook breakfast together most days when you stay over; we go out on the lake every other weekend and we watch crappy films every night.”

He took a deep breath and exhaled harshly as he tried to form the right words to explain what was currently on his mind.

“The point I’m trying to make is that I don’t need some artificial label like ‘Father’s Day’ for me to suddenly think any more about my kids. Every day with you and Morgan is perfect, even with all of the ups and downs…just knowing that you’re both safe and happy, that’s all that matters to me. You certainly don’t need to prove anything to me, bud, you’re worth more to me than any fancy gift or anything on this planet for that matter.”

He paused, hearing himself rambling a bit, but he could sense that some of what he was attempting to say was sinking in as a small smile had appeared on Peter’s face in the midst of his monologue, and he peeked up at him with those big chocolate brown eyes so alike to his own, heart blooming with love at the unconditional trust in them.

“I love you, pal. I love you so much – so fucking much, alright?” Tony stressed, blinking back tears and hugging his son tightly, burying his face in the boy’s sweet-smelling curls.

“Don’t ever doubt that, there’s nothing you need to do to earn my affection or attention. You’re as much my kid as Morgan is and nothing will ever change that, believe me,” he murmured against the boy’s hairline, giving him another firm squeeze, before pulling back so he could make eye contact and ensure that all of this was sinking in.

The kid was blushing slightly, but he was still smiling, and Tony called that a win, the good-humoured side to him suddenly taking over as he leaned in to peck the tip of his son’s nose. “I love you.” He moved to kiss one of the flushed cheeks. “I love you.” He kissed across Peter’s fore-head, facial hair scratching across the skin, the kid’s quiet demeanour finally dissolving as giggles escaped his mouth at the loving, well-realised gestures from his father figure.

“I love you, little spider,” Tony confessed again, nuzzling their noses together. “Please don’t ever forget that,” he begged, chest filling with warmth when his little man’s face scrunched up with laughter at the tickly sensation from the man’s goatee and lips and he pulled back to wipe at his face.

“Okay, okay, I get it now!” Peter giggled.

“You’d better, otherwise I’m taking that suit away from you again,” Tony warned, half-heartedly as he couldn’t stop the bright grin from forming on his face at the pure childlike delight in his kid’s eyes.

Peter snickered at the empty threat, eyes flickering downwards to the stain on his hoodie and he smiled, thoughtfully as he reminisced on all that they had been through together. He picked at the mark, absentmindedly, sensing the man’s warm gaze observing him quietly.

“Dad?” Peter spoke after a few moments of peaceful silence between the two, using the term of address which he used more often when Morgan was in the room to not confuse her on where Peter’s place was in the family. It was Tony most of the time, but both parties certainly preferred hearing ‘Dad’ the most.

“Yeah, Pete?” Tony murmured.

“…I love you too.”

Tony smiled, reaching out to cup the back of his kid’s neck and leaning forward to press his lips to his son’s temple. “Always, kid.”

…

Later that night, after a full day of boating out on the lake and stuffing themselves silly with a delicious BBQ and had settled in front of the TV to watch a movie or two, Tony was sat in the middle of the sofa with one kid occupying both arms. Pepper had excused herself a little while ago, giving both sleeping children a kiss on the top of the head, before heading off to bed, knowing that they were in very good hands.

Tony had lost interest in the film some time ago, but there was nothing that could coax him to leave the warm cocoon he had formed with his kids; Morgan laying her head in the man’s lap with his large hand stroking soothing circles on her back and Peter’s head resting in the crook of his neck, where Tony was subconsciously playing with his soft curls, tugging individual strands and twirling locks around his coarse fingers.

His eyeline trailed towards the top of the fireplace where the Father’s Day card the kids had made for him stood proudly and would remain there for at least another month if the billionaire had it his way.

The front page was a collage of photos of Peter and Morgan, as well as a couple of pictures of Dum-E and U (Peter’s idea of a joke, but he had passionately argued that Tony had already been a Dad way before he actually became one to humans); the genius didn’t think he could love the card anymore until he turned the page and saw that Pepper had stuck a couple more photos in the middle of a young Peter wearing his beloved Iron Man helmet which May must have found and Morgan wearing the helmet he had made for Pepper.

It was true that Tony believed that he didn’t need a designated day to prove just how much he loved his kids and vice versa, but he supposed he could make a compromise if he received perfect gifts like the one he was gazing at right now.

Chapter Text

Deep down, Peter knew that it hadn’t been a good idea. He knew that he was bound to get into some kind of trouble. He was just a friendly neighbourhood Spider-Man, it was his choice of course, but it didn’t mean that he wanted to completely miss out on the action when he had these powers and he knew that if he let this opportunity slip he would deeply regret it.

Ever since the bite, he had never let a situation in need of his help pass by and this was no different. The only change was that now he had many superhero mentors to prove his abilities to, people he had looked up to ever since he was a little boy and wanted to impress more than anything.

That was how he found himself hiding in the cargo bay of a Quinjet on the way to Chicago to bring down an illegal weapons trade, his heart full of anticipated exhilaration and skyrocketing nerves both at the same time. It was an odd sensation, and, at the time, Peter wouldn’t have admitted that it was because he knew this wasn’t going to be some field trip. He should have stayed at the Compound, but he was there now and the least he could do was help the other Avengers out, even if he was bound to be in big trouble with Mr. Stark.

Big trouble didn’t even cut it…

…

Peter had been attempting to make himself marginally comfortable crouched behind a wooden box holding God knows what when he heard whirring sound and voices. He instantly shot up, but ensured he remained out of sight even though his heart was hammering in his chest and he sucked in a breath when he heard a bang, almost sounding like metal chinking against metal.

“God, could do with a Hulk right now,” Tony grumbled, which was followed by a soft sigh.

“You’re not going to be any help to us if you’re injured before we even get there, Tones,” Rhodes gently reprimanded. “Look man, I know it’s hard and it’s shit that those people are using your weapons again, but you need to get yourself under control. You need to be in a clear headspace when we take these guys down.”

Tony emitted a harsh sigh and there was the distinct sound of pacing as the suit whirred quietly when he walked. “I thought I destroyed them, all of them and now…now it seems like it was all for nothing. Iron Man just isn’t cutting it anymore…”

Peter’s heart clenched at the despairing tone of his mentor’s usual confident and often arrogant voice, sounding completely foreign with a hint of defeat already seeping through his words and they hadn’t even reached the source of the weapons division yet.

“That’s not true and you know it. You’ve been working your ass off ever since you became Iron Man and there’s nothing you wouldn’t do to get the job done,” Rhodes argued, passionately.

“I agree. We’re going to get these bastards, Tony,” Natasha cut in. “You’re not alone this time, we’ve got your back.”

“No-one is going to get their hands on these weapons again, it stops today,” Rhodes added.

There was a brief pause, before Tony snorted in clear amusement. “Alright, appreciate the pep talk guys,” he said, and he sounded like he was genuinely grateful to have them by his side, which was followed by soft chuckles from the two.

“You should all get some sleep, we still have a few more hours before we reach the target destination,” Vision suddenly announced, and Peter assumed that he must have been piloting the jet out of the docking bay whilst the others were talking.

There were murmurs of agreement to his statement and then it was quiet, apart from the constant humming of the jet’s engines beneath Peter. He mused over what had just occurred, heart aching for Tony and the situation he had been forced back into by some jerks who were using his weapons against him. Peter decided that he was glad he had stowed away on this mission because he got to help his mentor overcome whatever mercenaries were waiting for them in Chicago.

Perhaps if the teen had known what his actions would lead to in just a few hours’ time, he would never have snuck aboard the jet against the better judgement of his fellow Avengers, but the boy eventually drifted off to sleep mere minutes after his contemplations, blissfully unaware of just how dangerous a situation he was to be dropped in the moment they arrived in the city.

…

Peter was abruptly woken up by a gigantic bang coming from somewhere outside the Quinjet and his Spidey senses instantly screamed at him due to the proximity of intermediate peril.

He jumped to his feet, uncaring at this point at being seen by one of the other Avengers considering the fact that it was impossible to avoid the inevitable at this point and raced to where the ramp had been safety raised up before.

Great Peter, you’ve somehow slept through the start of the battle, he internally cursed as he picked up on the familiar sounds of Iron Man’s repulors, as well as heavy gunfire and explosions taking place only a few yards away.  

The teen yanked his mask on, blood pounding in his ears as his heart hammered in his chest, but he buried his fear deep down and focused on the situation at hand. His senses immediately locked onto a group of men in the distance of what appeared to be a long stretch of tarmac heading towards what must be the base the dealers had been operating in, all of them fully armed and one skidding to a stop to aim what appeared to be a missile launcher directly at Natasha, who was fighting hand to hand combat with a small group of the men.

Peter acted without a second thought, using his web shooters to give him leverage against the ground as he flung himself towards the kafuffle, aiming at the male and successfully disarming him by yanking him to the ground and knocking him out with his webs.

Peter gave a little cheer of triumph, before he gulped in dread when he caught the attention of a nearby dealer, who yelled in a language the boy didn’t understand, before raising his own missile launcher straight at Peter.

He didn’t get much time to react, but thankfully, he didn’t need to as the weapon was instantly blasted out of the man’s hands by Rhodey, who had luckily seen Spider-Man hopping out of the Quinjet in the nick of time. The dealer was knocked unconscious with bloody scrapes all over his face from the shattering of the weapon.

“Phew, thanks man!” Peter gasped in relief, the smile leaving his face when he saw the stern disapproval marking the older man’s features.

“You shouldn’t be here, Peter,” Rhodes chastised, firing at another group of armed dealers who were getting a little bit too close for comfort.

“Work first, talk later!” Peter returned, disarming another man and swinging away towards the factory to deal with more criminals.

He managed to disarm a few more men with his rapid-fire shooter webs, pining them to the ground and he moved onto the next lot, cursing the fact that there seemed to be so many of these dealers which Mr. Stark would have to be confronted with.

“Ohhh, you’d better have a damn good reason for being here, baby spider,” Natasha suddenly spoke from behind him, where she had managed to dispense with her own foes and was also working her way up towards the main base.

“Oh, hey Nat!” Peter called, twisting his head around for just a second to see her grappling with another dealer, before he could almost feel the Spandex across his arms singing when a powerful electronic blast from some kind of gun was fired millimetres away from him. He cried out in shock more than pain, whipping his head back round to yank the shooter down.

“Get back to the jet, Peter, you’re not authorised to be on this mission!” Natasha ordered, taking down a man who was aiming at the teen whilst he was dealing with the first goon.

“What? No! I’m here now and I wanna help!” Peter yelled back, shooting his webs at another man’s face who was just about to fire another beam at his fellow Avenger.

“Does Tony know you’re here?” She demanded, grabbing his arm and dragging him out of the way of another blast, before she fired and shot the man responsible with her hand gun.

“I didn’t really have a chance to tell him…” Peter admitted, voice rising in pitch with the nerves he had buried down suddenly rushed back to him and the stern, disappointed look on Natasha’s face which bared a striking resemblance to May’s certainly wasn’t helping his confident façade.

She sighed vehemently, yanking him a few more steps to the left and firing at another man shooting at them. “We don’t have time for this, get back to the jet now!”

Peter was becoming more and more frustrated at this point, irritated that no body in the team thought he was capable of defending himself and fighting off these goons. You almost got killed by a missile five minutes ago…Shut up!

He shook his head and wrenched his arm from Natasha’s strong grip, knowing  that words weren’t going to get him anywhere at the moment because of the crippling situation they were in.

“No Nat, I’ve been helping, and I can do more if you just let me!” He retorted, speeding forward despite Natasha’s yells of disapproval behind him, only focusing his senses on the commotion going on ahead.

He couldn’t see the point in going back to the jet when he had made it all the way there and had managed to make some kind of difference, so he might as well carry on until this fight was won.

Peter’s senses suddenly screamed at him and the distinct sound of a missile or bazooka of some kind emitting a high-pitched sound was whizzing towards him. The teen skidded to a halt, heart in his throat and he prepared for the tremendous blast and unimaginable pain that was bound to sear over him. It never came.

The familiar sounds of repulsors streaked across the sky and the Iron Man suit landed with a resounding crash in front of Peter, raising his arms to counterattack the missile and then turning to shield the boy with his armour from the massive amount of fiery debris that exploded from the impact of the blast.

The teen gasped from the pure force of the explosion, knowing that it must have been much worse for his mentor currently protecting him from the bulk of the blast, but he didn’t get much time to breathe a word of thanks as Tony’s arms were wrapping around him and the next moment they were soaring in the air.

The billionaire didn’t speak a word as he flew them back to the jet and a hundred thoughts were rushing through the youngster’s head as he was forced to endure this cold silence, untrusting his own words to form a justifiable thing to say to the man who had just saved his life, which he wouldn’t have had to do if Peter had listened to him and stayed in New York.

Instead, the youth maintained a quiet composure as Stark landed in the docking bay, depositing the boy not too ceremoniously on the ground besides a stony-faced Vision.

“Stay here,” Tony finally spoke, but with a sharp, unfeeling command to his tone of voice, something of which Peter was rarely exposed to.

The distinct finality to the statement which warned the boy that if he disobeyed this one instruction there would be severe consequences at stake made the teen prefer that his mentor hadn’t said anything at all to halt the quaking, sinking feeling in his bones.

His chocolate brown eyes were wide and unflinching, yet his insides were shaking with dread and anxiety as he wasn’t accustomed to such a strong sense of antagonization directed towards him from the man he had quickly become to view as a father figure and it twisted his stomach into knots, a heavy feeling surrounding his heart. He gave a quick nod to the elder’s words, who hadn’t even waited for a response before blasting off towards the battle again.

Peter could only stand rooted to the spot he had been left on and watch him fly away, his initial feelings of pride for sneaking on board the jet and thinking that he could make a difference to the mission fizzling out like water adding to the flame of his own misguided optimism.

He swallowed, thickly, and turned towards Vision very reluctantly, who was observing him with a mindful gaze and what almost appeared to be disappointment. Peter didn’t know if he could take anymore adults looking at him like that and he hadn’t even faced the one Avenger that he wanted to impress the most yet.

“He’s really mad at me…” The teen stated, weakly, eyes immediately downcast as he lifted his hand up and timidly pulled his mask off having no need for it anymore and he gave a small hiss of pain when he only just realised the gash in his arm from where the missile had almost scraped him and the small wounds littered across his entire body from the scattered debris of the one Tony had just saved him from.

Vision didn’t immediately respond to this, opting to sit down on one of the cargo boxes and pull out a first aid kit.

“Let me treat your injuries, Peter,” he said, and the boy might have felt that not directly addressing the issue of his disobedience would have made the crippling anxiety in his belly better, but it had the opposite effect and his brows creased together in clear distress as his feet automatically took him to where Vision was pointing to.

He was shocked to find that he was struggling to keep his tears at bay, angry that his body could be so susceptive to his own emotions.

“Vision, what am I gonna do? He’s going to be so angry and it’s all my fault!” Peter exclaimed, but the android didn’t have a chance to reply even if he wanted to anyway, as Black Widow was racing up the ramp sporting a bloody lip and she, too, was covered in numerous small scars from being in the blast zone.

“Tony’s setting off the detonator and S.H.I.E.L.D Agents are on their way to deal with the weapons dealers,” she informed them, collapsing on one of the boxes and helping herself to a bottle of water stored in one of the containment units. “Rhodes is dealing with the last of them.”

“Is Tony okay?” Peter asked, hesitantly, lifting his eyeline to meet with Natasha’s and trying not to flinch when her fiery gaze met his once more.

“After the stunt you just pulled?” She retorted. “You could have died, Peter, of course he’s not okay! Do you know how much danger you put yourself in and everyone else too?”

“I know, I know. I wasn’t thinking Nat, I’m really sorry. I just wanted to help!” The teen cried desperately, cursing himself when his voice broke because of the distress in his tone and he bowed his head to swipe at his now wet eyes roughly, hating himself more and more with each passing second.

He couldn’t believe that he could have been so stupid, and he doubted whether Tony could ever forgive him for endangering everybody like he had.

There was a soft sigh that followed his poor excuse of an explanation, but he refused to look up and show his likely red eyes from barely held back tears prickling at the surface and equally as tinged cheeks with shame.

“I know you did, and you showed some great progress out there, but it still doesn’t change the fact that you stowed away on a mission which only high security personnel are authorised to know about. You’re going to have a lot more apologies to make, baby spider.”

An uncomfortable silence followed for a few minutes as the team waited for the others to board the jet and Peter had plenty of time to process his actions, as well as contemplate how furious Mr. Stark was going to be with him when he returned.

It was only moments later when the distinct sounds of a powerful explosion could be heard from down the road and two figures streaked across the sky, before landing at the bottom of the ramp.

Both shed their facemasks and Peter’s stomach dropped at the taut, strained expression of pure fury on his mentor’s face.

It was something he had never seen before on anybody, let alone the usual carefree, warm and supportive genius he had become so close with over the past couple of years and it genuinely frightened him. There was no way Peter would be able to get through the long flight back to New York if he didn’t at least try and straighten things out, no matter how unlikely a make up would be at this point, but the one thing that the teen was certain of was that he would do everything he could to make things right again.

He stood from his awkward perch on the edge of the cargo box, ignoring Natasha’s warning stare and dodging her attempt to grab his arm to pull him back down again as he apprehensively approached the genius.

“Tony…?” He began, voice unnaturally high pitched as if he was treading on eggshells and he definitely felt like he was too, especially when he was instantly silenced by a swift raise of the elder’s hand as the man abruptly halted in his striding towards the cockpit.

“Don’t speak,” Tony ordered, sharply, face twitching with obvious fury and it hurt the teen to see that his mentor couldn’t even look at him. This was a hundred times worse than the ferry incident. At least that time Tony was lecturing him, addressing him, but now he appeared so disgusted, so ashamed. This wasn’t the Tony he knew.

“B-but, I-“

“Stop speaking,” Stark snapped, dark eyes snapping to meet his own, jaw hardening and wrinkles forming across the man’s fore-head as he pinned the boy with a severe, grim stare that caused shivers to ripple down the teen’s spine.

Anyone could hear a pin drop with the high levels of tension in the docking bay and it was only partially saved when Rhodes placed a steady hand on the billionaire’s shoulder which was presumably meant to both support and restrain him, whilst Natasha stood to attempt to guide Peter back to his seat again.

“Not now, Peter,” she gently instructed, but the teen turned his pleading gaze on her and once more tugged his arm free from her grasp, following the two males who were quickly marching towards the cockpit again.

“Please, Tony,” Peter begged, his desperation now reaching a critical state. “I’m really sorry, I just wasn’t thinking. Please talk to me!”

“Ohh, you wanna talk, do you?” Tony suddenly spoke, his voice dripping in cynicism and heavy sarcasm, not at all the warm and often paternal tone that the teen was used to hearing from the man.

He gulped when the genius slowly turned around to finally face him, his stony expression and cold gaze pinning the boy to where he was standing, unable to move a muscle as Tony regarded him with such distain and contempt and the tears Pete had been struggling to hold back were once more bubbling to the surface.

“Let’s talk then, Parker. Shall we start with your blatant disobedience by illegally stowing away on this mission? Or almost getting yourself and everyone else killed?” Tony stated, bluntly and the use of his surname sounded as if the man were disowning Peter in that very moment, the detachment of the term causing his tears to finally break the dam he had been holding up for too long.

“P-please, Tony, I-I was just t-trying t-to help…” Peter stuttered, voice breaking as small sobs escaped him, his lips trembling with the strain of trying his hardest to hold the tears in. He was fifteen, he shouldn’t be crying like this. Yet, his whole world felt like it was crashing down. The team, the Avengers and his mentor, they were all past the point of disappointment with his poor decision and now he had to face the consequences.

“Oh, trying to help now, were you? Well, I hate to tell ya, pal, but I think you just made things a heck of a lot worse,” Tony snapped, venomously and Rhodes frowned at this, attempting to pull the way away again with a strong arm around his shoulder.

“C’mon, Tony, lay off him. He’s just a kid, he doesn’t know any better,” the man attempted to reason, but the billionaire wasn’t budging, and the words seemed to be falling on deaf ears.

He almost looked disgusted with the tears streaming down the boy’s face and the weak sobs that were escaping him. Natasha was there, placing a reassuring hand on his back, but Peter hardly noticed the kind gesture, the overwhelming guilt and shame taking over his state of mind.

“I-I’m s-sorry, I k-know I should have listened to you…” Peter asserted, meekly. He could now taste the salt from his tears.

“Really?” Tony immediately retorted in his sarcastic manner. It was almost cruel the way he was speaking to him, as if the teen was nothing more than one of their adversaries, someone to mock and play with, much like the man had done when Loki had come to New York a few years ago.

This was certainly not the Tony that Peter had come to deeply admire and respect and he was terrified by the way the man could throw these accusations and insults his way in the heat of the moment. You deserve it.

“Tell me what I said to you before I boarded this jet, Parker,” Tony demanded, approaching the boy who almost took a step back in fright from the sheer intimidation of the man sporting his ferocious glare and clad in his big, bold suit striding towards him. He was completely ignoring the fact that they had onlookers and roughly brushed Rhodes off when he tried to pull him back.

Before Peter could even form a substantial reply, his body was suddenly jolted as Tony darted forward and grabbed his shoulders, jarring his small frame when the elder harshly shook him.

“Tell me! WHAT THE FUCK DID I SAY?!” He bellowed, the roaring sound startling the boy more than any explosion or incoming missile ever could and causing him to release a sharp cry in pain and terror from the unexpected move.

“Tony! That’s enough!” Both Natasha and Rhodey yelled at the same time, but it turns out that they didn’t need to, because the moment the words left the man’s lips, the fury and distain suddenly began to melt away from his face like a block of ice in sunlight.

The corner of his mouth twitched for a second and Peter could practically see the cogs and gears turning in that genius mind through the uneasy dark eyes now becoming shrouded in an emotion the teen couldn’t clearly place, but it was no longer anger.

He blinked hastily as if waking up from a nightmare, tight grip instantly loosening as he took a step back, blundering into a guarded Rhodes, who he seemed to have forgotten was even there attempting to hold him back.

Tony took one glance at Natasha, then quickly flashed back to Peter’s tear stained face who was quivering from the shock of the outburst and struggling to keep his cries in, before racing towards the ramp and blasting off into the sky without a second look back.

Peter almost collapsed with the sheer weight of his emotions overwhelming him, but Natasha’s arms were wrapping around him and guiding him back down to his seat, holding him in a friendly embrace.

“N-Nat, h-he’s he’s s-s-so m-mad at me!” The teen cried, hysterically, barely managing to take in deep breaths to calm himself as he hiccupped on heavy sobs, leaning into the comfort that her gentle hold gave him.

It wasn’t the same as Tony’s though and it was ridiculous to realise the truth, but Tony was who he wanted. “I-I really messed up a-and a-and I’m gonna get kicked out the team! H-he h-hates me!” He wailed, which resulted in her promptly shushing him and rocking him slightly.

“Don’t ever say that, Peter because it’s not true. Tony was completely out of line there and he should never have shouted at you like that,” she said. “He just needs some time to calm down, there’s no way that man could ever hate you, kid,” she added with a soft chuckle despite the situation and Peter could hear a murmur of agreement from Rhodes.

“Yeah, Pete. I’ve known Tony for more than twenty years and I’ve never seen this side to him before when he’s with you, he really cares about you,” Rhodey added, rubbing his hand reassuringly across the teen’s shoulders. “You know what you did is wrong and we’re going to fix it.”

“He’ll never forgive me. After the way he just blew up at me, he won’t ever wanna see me again…” Peter mumbled, pulling back and swiping at his wet face with the backs of his hands.

“No, Peter, you can’t think like that,” Natasha spoke, firmly. “He was just afraid, he let his emotions get the better of him.”

“I’m going to sort this out, meet you guys back at the Compound,” Rhodes announced, marching down the ramp and taking off to follow Tony’s path of flight.

A short silence followed apart from the occasional sniffle as the adults allowed Peter the time to compose himself once again, before Vision declared that he was going to plot their path home and excused himself to the cockpit. Natasha stayed with the teen to ensure that he was truly okay, but both knew that this wasn’t something a few words of encouragement could instantly fix.

They were in for a long journey back to the Compound.

…

Rhodes trailed Tony’s flight path all the way back to the Avengers Tower and it appeared that the billionaire had had his thrusters on full capacity as he made it back in record time and it was obvious that the genius had completely avoided going back to the Compound where the Quinjet would be shortly returning to. He landed and disabled his armour, before asking FRIDAY where his best friend was, who immediately answered with he was down in the workshop. Well, that just wouldn’t do.

Rhodes marched towards the elevator, jamming the button and waiting not so patiently whilst the lift took him down to Tony’s personal lab, the doors sliding open and presenting the vast open workspace full of gadgets and vintage cars.

The shriek of AC/DC’s ‘Highway to Hell’ instantly assaulted his ears and he shook his head with a heavy sigh, angry but unsurprised with his friend’s usual way of dealing with whatever problems he most likely caused for himself, locking himself away and blasting out music until the early hours of the morning and drinking himself silly.

Well, Tony had given up drinking apart from the odd glass here and there a while ago, so now it was rock and tech that formed the billionaire’s anchor when he couldn’t face his demons, but Rhodes just wouldn’t have that. There was a traumatised child who needed Tony, whether the genius was ready to face him or not.

The Colonel surveyed the area looking for the familiar sticky up dark hair and finding him out of his suit and in the Duran Duran top and black jeans he had been wearing before, kneeling beside the top half of his armour which was slung up, so he could work on the wiring below.

Rhodes wasted no time in approaching him, knowing that this whole situation was going to be difficult as Tony was the worst when it came to stubbornness, but he hoped that he could talk some sense into the idiot who had just screamed at a poor kid who only wanted approval. Yes, he had gone about it the wrong way, but they could sort that out and it was Tony’s very out of character outburst that had worried the Colonel the most.

“FRIDAY cut the music. What the hell was that?” Rhodes demanded, approaching his friend’s side and frowning darkly, crossing his arms over his broad chest.

“Please don’t turn off my music and pass me that screwdriver. I’m in a bit of a tight spot here, gotta get these wires uncrossed and then link it up to the new circuit board I’m working on. Thrusters are slightly compromised after dealing with those bastards,” Tony rambled in a gravelly voice, tone darkening as he referred to the dealers and he not once lifted his gaze from his work, but Rhodes had known his friend for long enough to interpret that far gone, distant look in his dark eyes. He voiced a good description, but there was no way he was actually focusing on the job.

“They seemed mighty fine when you blasted off before and left us to pick up the pieces,” Rhodes retorted, dryly, sadly watching the slight shaking in Tony’s wrist as he fumbled around the wires with a lack of precision the genius never had when he was working with his technology.

“Tony, you can’t just surround yourself with your armour all the time. You have to face these things, I know you didn’t mean what you said to the kid. You were tired and stressed and we get that, believe me, we all understand. This was a difficult mission for you, but the way you blew up at Peter back there…he was distraught when I left him,” he spoke, reaching out to grip his friend’s shoulder in which he hoped would be taken as a comforting gesture. He didn’t want to argue, he just needed to knock some sense into the man.

“I don’t need you to tell me that, I saw it in his fucking eyes,” Tony snapped. “Shit!” He exclaimed as an electric spark burnt his fingers and he chucked the spanner he was gripping in his hand across the lab so that it clanged against the wall.

“Tony, Tony, calm down!” Rhodes stressed, holding both shoulders now, but the billionaire swiftly bashed his hands away.

“Don’t tell me to calm down! How can I after what I just did to the kid?!” Tony exploded. “You said it yourself, pal, he’s distraught and who wouldn’t be? I fucking traumatised him!” He yelled, voice straining with the sudden outburst and it suddenly broke as he choked on a small sob and he collapsed heavily into his chair, Rhodes darting out to steady him before he fell to the floor.

Tony roughly scraped his calloused fingers through his dark tufty hair, expression creasing in pain and he covered his eyes with his hands, a shaky tremor cascading through his whole body and leg trembling uncontrollably.

“I didn’t want to become my father, Rhodes,” Tony mumbled into his hands, voice weak, small and uncharacteristically devoid of charm or character as it usually was.

“The kid almost died under a building when I took away his suit, I’ve lost him before when that fucking bastard took him from me and now this…” He sighed, heavily, sliding his hands away from his face and Rhodes was heart broken to see the red rimmed eyes full of raw pain.

“I saw the way he was looking at me, he’s terrified of me and all he did was try to help.”

A dry chuckle.

“God, I love that damn kid so fucking much, Platypus,” he expressed, voice wavering and watery and he only just managed to catch himself before he dissolved into tears, burying his face in his hands again and receiving some resemblance of comfort when his friend warmly rubbed a hand across his shoulders.

“I know you do, Tones and for what it’s worth, that Spider-Boy loves you too and you need to get your ass out of here to go and tell him that before you really become your Dad,” Rhodes declared, earnestly, squeezing his shoulder firmly.

Tony sighed again, squeezing his eyes together and pinching his nose between two fingers. “You saw him, he could hardly speak he was that distressed. I made him feel like he couldn’t talk to me when he needed to, I completely broke him.”

“No, man, you didn’t mean anything you said. Peter knows why you were angry, and you were scared because you couldn’t stand to see anything bad happen to him. If that doesn’t show how much you care about the kid, I don’t know what will,” Rhodes argued. “You’ve got to go the Compound and sort this out. He needs you, Tony.”

Tony pursed his lips, the cogs turning in his brilliant head again, before he nodded and rose. “You’re right, I’m a self-hating jerk, aren’t I?”

“What’s new?” Rhodes quirked, a small smirk tugging at the corner of his lips and it earned him a wet scoff from his friend, who reached over to warmly squeeze his fore-arm.

“I’m getting my kid back,” Tony announced, attaching the suit with quick and precise movements and Rhodes couldn’t help but smile as he watched his friend. Peter sounded like Tony when he shouted.

…

By the time Tony had reassembled his suit and flew across to the Compound, the Quinjet they had taken to Chicago had already arrived and Tony didn’t waste any time in heading straight to the communal area to try and find Vision or Natasha.

He didn’t want to directly approach Peter until he got the run down of what had occurred after he abandoned the mission, hoping with every fibre of his being that the teen was at least marginally well after what had happened.

The problem was, however, that he knew the kid better than he knew himself and Peter would most likely be coped up somewhere, unable to focus on anything other than the unjustified blow up he had just bared the full force of from his mentor. The visual of the boy’s severely distressed expression was enough for the elder to swallow around heavy lump in his throat and blink back tears.

Natasha was making a peanut butter and jelly sandwich in the kitchen in a casual blouse and black jeans when he walked in and she eyed him reproachfully over the desktop. “You screwed the pooch hard this time,” she commented, dryly.

“Thought that was my line,” Tony said, a small smirk tugging at the corner of his lips and he slipped his hands into his pockets. “Where is he?” He asked after not receiving any reply, but he didn’t expect one.

“If by ‘he’, you mean the kid you almost made have a panic attack, he’s not here. As soon as we arrived back, he freaked out because he thought you might be here, so he swung off. We’ve tried to contact him, but he’s switched off communications with his suit,” she spoke, carrying her plate over to one of the sofas.

“I’ve got a pretty good idea of where he’ll be, I’m gonna go straighten things out,” Tony said, activating his suit once again and heading towards the entrance. He wanted to say something to Natasha for being there for Peter when he couldn’t, but the kid came first in this instance and he knew that he would have time to confront her later once he patched things up with Peter.

…

Tony’s hunch had been proven correct. Peter was sat on the roof of the ice cream parlour the Avengers often visited after a long mission, where they were too jetlagged and exhausted to speak, and they could simply enjoy each other’s company with a sweet treat safe in the knowledge that they had saved the day.

Yes, ice cream had now replaced shawarma and Tony believed that it was safe to explain the downgrade in chosen snack to something so simple and innocent was because of the fact that they now had a couple of youngsters added to the group with Peter and Wanda.

The kid wasn’t eating now. He was perched on the edge of the building, legs hanging off the side and mask bunched in his hands, ear buds plugged in. Tony couldn’t see his face as he was coming up from behind, but there was no doubt that the teen was crying, that much was clear just from his posture alone.

The hunched over frame and quaking shoulders were the warning signs and the elder’s heart broke at the sorrowful sight. He didn’t want to startle the boy anymore than he already had, but he couldn’t let this go on any longer and he just wanted his kid back.

The billionaire approached the teen, tapping his chest to deactivate the nano bots and the suit seemed to melt off his body as he made his way over to Peter. He was right about the tears.

Once he was standing about a foot away from the boy, Tony reached forward and gently ran his fingers through the baby soft chestnut curls, causing the teen to jolt at the unexpected gesture and when his scared brown eyes darted up to meet the man’s, they grew twice as wide.

“Mr Stark!” He gasped, ripping his head phones off and discarding them to the ground as he leapt to his feet and blundered a few paces back, staring at his mentor in shock as if he hadn’t expected him to track him down so soon.

“Hey, buddy, thought we were past the ‘Mr Starks’ now,” Tony spoke with a soft smile, taking in the red rimmed eyes, tufty hair and blotchy cheeks.

“What’re you doing here?” Peter asked, apprehensively, avoiding eye contact and nibbling on his lower lip anxiously as he wrung his mask between shaking hands. The poor kid thought he was going to be kicked off the team just for making one mistake. His voice was gravelly, hoarse and fragile, as if he hadn’t stopped crying for hours. Yet, that was exactly the case.

“Keeping the peace, Iron Man promise,” Tony said, raising his hands to replicate the gesture of surrender as he approached the teen once again.

The kid didn’t even crack a small smile at the elder’s poor joke, his expression immediately conversed into one of pure distress and a small sob escaped trembling lips as more tears spilled down those rosy cheeks.

Peter raised his own hand in front of him, almost as if he was trying to protect himself – from Tony. Peter should never be scared of him, there should never be the tell-tale look of unbridled fear in those big brown eyes when he did something so simple as approach him. The man’s heart tore at the pitiful sight of the kid, his kid, desperately trying to curb his sobs whilst also shaking his head weakly to halt his mentor’s steps.

“P-please d-don’t. I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m s-so s-sorry!” Peter wailed, whole frame wracking with his cries as he backed up a few paces, but Tony wasn’t having that.

He spurred forward and engulfed the teen in his strong embrace, ignoring the sharp cry of fright that emitted from the boy and squeezing his tightly, warmly within a safe cocoon.

“Shh, you’re alright, kid, you’re alright. I’m not gonna let you go,” Tony spoke, voice cracking slightly as he held his kid, finally held him and felt his shaking body and hot puffs of breath against his ear.

The teen didn’t go down easily, he writhed and shrieked and sobbed, but Tony only tightened his hold and brought them down to the tarmac coated roof, where he wrestled the boy into his lap and cradled him like a father would a small child after scraping their knee from a nasty fall.

“C’mon, buddy, it’s Mr. Stark here, I’m not mad anymore, I’ve got you, kid…” Tony murmured in a repeated litany, gently rocking his precious bundle back and forth as he experienced powerful déjà vu to when he would comfort his daughter after a nightmare and this was no different.

Sure, his first born was a superpowered Spider-Boy, but he was and always would be his baby and no amount of arguing or mistakes would ever change that. Peter was his, now and forever.

Eventually, the teen’s cries reduced to small sniffles and occasional hiccups and he was clearly exhausted, beaten in submission by the day’s events. He slumped against the man like a sack of potatoes, eyes dropping and fingers loosely clutching the thin material of his mentor’s top as he gave in to the comfort.

“There we go my little Spider-Baby, I’ve got you, you’re okay, we’re all fine…” Tony says in a low, quiet tone, nuzzling his cheek into those apple-scented curls he loved so much and turning his face slightly to plant a small kiss there. Peter leaned into it. Either the kid was too compliant in the secure hold to voice and objections or he was forgiven, who knew, but Tony hoped it was the latter with all his heart. He sighed, quietly, resting his fore-head against the boy’s.

“I love you so much, kid.”

The teen stiffened in his arms and moved back to look into the man’s eyes, his brow furrowing in confusion. “B-but, but I disobeyed you, I put everyone in danger. How can you say that?” He asked, timidly with a hint of disbelief in his voice.

“Because you’re my son,” Tony stated, calloused fingers tenderly sweeping a fallen lock from his kid’s eye and tucking it securely behind the small ear.

“You’re as much my kid as Morgan is and there’s nothing you could do which will ever change that. It’s my fault, I know, I kept it all pretty secret, but I’ve been a huge douchbag today and I’m sorry, buddy. I know it can’t erase everything I said, and you have every right to hate me, but…I need you to know that,” he continued, stumbling over words as he tried to find the right ones to say.

Peter sniffled, blinking back tears at his mentor’s declaration. Tony didn’t need to outright say that he thought of Peter as his son, it was obvious in his mannerisms and the way he interacted with the teen, but it was still quite a shock for the man with the constant guard up to suddenly unravel the layers built up over years of hard work to the kid who had wormed his way into his heart.

Finally, a small smile peaked at the corner of the Spiderling’s lips.

“So, I’m not suspended from the team?” He quirked after a moment of processing what the man said. Tony blinked, and a wet chuckle followed the quip, hand ruffling the teen’s hair affectionately.

“No, pal, you’re not suspended. However, Mr Stark is going to have to give his Spider-Boy a firm lecture on Avenger protocols when we get back to base, sound fair?” He suggested, raising an inquisitive eyebrow.

Peter laughed at this. “Yeah, I guess.”

“Alright, you wanna latch on with that super sticky grip, kid?” Tony said, releasing the boy for just a moment to tap his chest and ignite the nano tech again so his suit could encase him. He smiled warmly when the teen wrapped his legs around the man’s waist and arms around his neck, allowing him to stand.

Soothed by the steady weight of his kid in his arms, the billionaire activated his thrusters and soared into the slowly darkening sky. Although Peter might have fought to keep his eyes open, the gentle breeze in his hair and the warm presence of his mentor surrounding him like a soft blanket was enough to coax him into finally giving into his fatigue.

He may have vaguely felt the man cradle his head as they landed, or how he was carried through corridors to a room where he was carefully tucked into a bed with cool sheets that smelled of black coffee and motor oil and was bestowed with the scratch of facial hear and soft lips against his fore-head, but he didn’t stir once. He was at peace.

Chapter Text

The thing was, Peter didn’t hate Morgan, not even close. She was his sister and that was great, but she was also a little girl that he knew next to nothing about.

His father had told him that they had a lot in common with a small, knowing smile on his face as he drove them home after the final battle with Thanos, but Peter could not share the man’s fondness for his children meeting for the first time. Sure, it was an exciting fact to know that he now had a younger sibling who would probably be just as intelligent as his father and quick witted as Pepper, but that was exactly the point.

Morgan was the child of Tony Stark and Pepper Potts; Peter didn’t and never would fit into that family unit. Yes, he was his father’s son and that would never change (the older man had been so overwhelmed to see him again after five years of being vanished that he had enveloped him in a bone crushing hug where Peter could vaguely feel the shudder of barely suppressed sobs emanating across the man’s broad shoulders); Peter knew that his father had missed him greatly and would always love him if he was there or he wasn’t.

Although his father had passionately denied it as soon as he brought up the huge milestones his sixteen-year-old son had missed out on whilst he was ‘away’, Morgan had theoretically replaced the hole Peter had left when he vanished. She and Pepper were his new family, they had formed that in the lakeside house and Peter was the spare part who had to integrate back into this unfamiliar territory.

No, Peter couldn’t hate Morgan. Hate was a strong word and the little girl he had missed four years of her young life of had been nothing but kind to him ever since he returned. She was no doubt his sister, Tony Stark’s child, because she was clever and mischievous, and she had Peter’s eyes – their father’s eyes and their father’s hair colour. But she was also Pepper’s. She had a way of putting Tony in his place with certain words, looks and mannerisms, aspects which neither male could even hope to possess.

Morgan had been enamoured to discover that she had an older brother and there had been no feelings of resentment or confusion projected towards the teen at any point, she had embraced him warmly and was calling him ‘Petey’ within days of meeting him for the first time.

The whole thing just made Peter sad, because he didn’t want to have these feelings about his new sister, he wanted to love her unconditionally and share her laughter whole-heartedly and discover all of her unique personality traits which came from being the child of two of the most eccentric, brilliant minds on the planet, but that was easier said than done. His father had just been overjoyed to have his first born back again and that gratitude, that irrevocable love overshadowed any reservations Peter may have to the new family he had been thrust into when he returned from The Blip.

Peter Stark was a memory. His father had grieved him in those five years. There were photos of him all over the cabin and that was how Morgan knew so much about him, but he knew only the surface level facts about her. She had had years to ask their father about the boy in the photograph; Peter had had practically five minutes before he was introduced to her.

He couldn’t help but feel like a stranger in the cosy cabin beside the lake. His father had changed so much whilst he was gone. He was still Dad, but now it wasn’t just to him. Morgan was the second chance, the one he hadn’t made any mistakes with and hadn’t shared Iron Man with. Now that Peter was back, his father had to divide his affections and attention between three people and Peter was truly happy for his father and for what he had created whilst he was gone, but that didn’t mean that he hadn’t missed out.

Peter didn’t hate Morgan, he envied her. He envied the years she had had with their father, the years he could never get back.

…

The air was frosty and nipped at exposed noses and cheeks, so Tony had ensured both his children were clothed in thick fleeces and wrapped up tight in winter jackets.

Peter didn’t understand why his father was unnecessarily fussing over him, not only because they were going to a shopping centre, so they would be out of the car and into the heated building within minutes and there was no need for the added precautions, but because he wasn’t used to the slightly overbearing attitude from the man.

He couldn’t even go out as Spider-Man anymore without a firm lecture and a curfew and whilst he had had experienced similar restrictions before he was dusted, this was different and to more of an extreme than what he was used to. His father had changed in many ways, but his parenting style was the most notable factor for the teenager.

Peter had learnt early on that Morgan was talkative and curious by nature, but he knew that most four-year-olds were, so he had quickly adapted to the addition of a younger sibling to their family. Some days were acceptable; however, others were particularly hard to bare when the little girl seemed to embody limitless amounts of energy that even their father, the genius who was used to surviving on an hour or two of sleep alone for weeks on end, struggled to keep up with her.

As soon as she was buckled into her car seat, Peter silently slipping into the seat on the left side of the vehicle with his ear buds clutched loosely in his hand, she requested that they listen to the Frozen soundtrack on the way to the mall. Pepper laughed and shook her head, gazing at her daughter with the fondness and unconditional love which always lit up Tony’s dark eyes when he interacted with his children, but especially with Morgan seeing as she was so young, and he always indulged her inherited intelligence whenever he got the chance.

Peter barely concealed his quiet sigh at the requested playlist and the slight roll of his eyes, fingers already itching to slip his ear buds in and switch himself off from the loud car journey they were surely in for with a certain four year-old belting out Disney tunes nonstop, but before he managed to shut the door, his wrist was caught by a gentle, warm hand with familiar callouses in the rough skin which he knew as well as his own.

He hadn’t even heard his father approach him, probably too distracted by Morgan’s chirpy tones and the idea of peaceful bliss once he got his headphones in and his gaze reluctantly trailed up to meet his twins.

The older man was regarding him softly, yet his fore-head was creased as he appeared to be scrutinising him, taking his current mind in. His father was not a fool, he had picked up on Peter’s discomfort shortly after he had returned from the place where all the vanished had gone and he often watched the teen the way he was now with guarded eyes that Peter knew was hiding a million thoughts about his moody teenage son who refused to spend any more time with Morgan than was necessary.

Peter knew that it wasn’t fair the way he treat the innocent little girl that couldn’t be happier to have an older brother and he knew that he should make more of an effort to bond with her, but he had been through too much, he had seen too much and to come home to a much larger family than what he was used to was no easy feat.

“You’re zoning out on me again, pal, you’re gonna short circuit at this rate,” Tony remarked, and Peter couldn’t even bring himself to smile, because it was such a ‘Dad’ joke and he wasn’t used to that.

His father was witty and good humoured, but it was often quite dark and dry, the kind of humour which Pepper used to roll her eyes at and apologise to others about, but Peter would usually be secretly chortling at until tears stung at his eyes; often earning him a mischievous smirk and wink from his father in the process.

Now it was like his father wasn’t really here, he was there in the flesh and they had been reunited at last, but his Dad wasn’t here with him anymore. Peter missed his father so much sometimes, he missed how they could talk about anything at any time and lark about like they used to. Now, things were complicated.

“I’m right here,” Peter replied, his mouth dry and the words sounded hallow even to his ears. It was ironic to say them aloud when he thought the same of his father, they were closer than ever before, yet there was still an invisible barrier between them which neither had managed to penetrate.

Tony’s lips quirked into a small smile, eyes shining with concern and another emotion Peter couldn’t quite place.

“And I want you to stay here,” the older man said, glancing down at the phone clutched in his son’s hand and back up to the teen’s face, whose eyebrows furrowed for a moment as he pieced together what his father was really saying.

“But it’s Frozen, Dad. I can’t even count on my fingers the amount of times we’ve popped that one in,” Peter stressed, chancing a glance at his sister and step-mother who were thankfully too engrossed in a conversation about what new toy they were going to get for Morgan’s bedroom from the mall, so he was in the clear.

His father didn’t look at all amused or pleased by the teen’s small victory, in fact he looked sad and Peter wasn’t sure how to feel about that.

“I want you to get to know Morgan, so can we keep the buds in here just for a little while?” He gently took them from his son and slid them into the pouch in at the back of the front seat. “I know you’re avoiding her, but she only wants to be your sister, you get that right?” Oh God, did Peter know that.

“I know, Dad. I don’t do it intentionally…” Peter mumbled.

His father sighed, softly at this and the next second, he felt a hand card through his unruly chestnut curls, coaxing him to make eye contact once again and when he did, he was stunned by the unbridled, unconditional love swimming in those dark chocolate depths.

It was the same look he had seen in his father’s eyes once they met on that battlefield and it was a look that he had seen many times since he returned, as if the man couldn’t quite believe that he was there, physical and breathing and alive.

“I miss you, kiddo.”

Peter suddenly had the uncontrollable urge to break down and cry and lurch forward to engulf his father in a crushing hug, but he didn’t. He missed his Dad too and he wished things could be normal.

“I’m right here.” They were dead words now, empty and meaningless, but they were all he had.

Tony leaned in and pressed a tender kiss to his son’s temple; Peter’s heart fluttered. He’d missed his father’s kisses and hugs so much.

“I love you, buddy,” the man murmured.

“Love you too,” Peter replied without a second thought and he meant it with every fibre of his being.

“Just try for me today, alright? That’s all I ask, just try.”

Peter promised he would.

…

The car journey was pretty excruciating, and Peter tried to abide by his father’s wishes, but he couldn’t properly interact with a four-year-old once her favourite music was blasting so he resorted to attempting to block the sound out by staring out the window and making up stories for the people in passing cars.

It took them about forty-five minutes and when they finally arrived at the big shopping centre, Peter’s ears were buzzing, and it was taking everything in him not to show his discomfort on his face.

They had just rounded the front of the car when the teen felt a small hand slip into his and he glanced down in shock to his younger sister, clad in her navy winter coat with a pink frill around the hood which was sitting atop her dark hair and the little purple gloves on her hands were soft to the touch. She smiled at him sweetly and he managed a small one in return, allowing her to lead him towards the front of the building with the adults walking behind.

Morgan babbled on about a new Captain America toy that she wanted, and Peter couldn’t share in her enthusiasm as he wasn’t on the best of terms with his fellow Avenger seeing as the last he had seen of him was when he had almost killed his father in Siberia.

Although the two had made up according to Tony during the five years and their time travel heist, Peter could never forgive the man for what he had done to his father.

When his little sister brought up her interest in a Black Widow action figure, Peter was certainly more responsive to this and encouraged her to go for it considering the fact that Natasha had been like a cool aunty to him when he was growing up and it had been devastating to find out about her fate once he returned.

The days events went fairly smoothly from there, with Tony and Peter taking a quick detour to have a look at the new cars on sale as they always had done before, where Peter could have kidded himself that things were back to normal again.

He had been enjoying himself immensely when the older man made a few jokes about how the two of them probably could have done a better job on some of the models by themselves in the lab and the teen had to smother his laughter with his hand when a seller happened to come over at that very moment. He even offered to buy one so Peter could start taking driving lessons, but the teen declined for now as he didn’t think he was in the right mind set yet to add another pressure into his already confusing existence.

The two eventually managed to tear themselves away from the cars, but only once Pepper texted Peter’s father asking them to meet at the Italian restaurant in the dining quarter and they went to go and have lunch with the girls.

Afterwards, Peter wanted to go and see any new additions to the LEGO shop and Tony asked him to take Morgan there whilst himself and Pepper had a look around some of the retailers, so the youngsters headed up to the second floor whilst the couple stayed on the ground floor.

Peter could practically feel his father’s gaze on him all the way up the escalator and kept a firm grip on his sister’s hand as they stepped off at the top, attempting to keep the wriggly worm in her place and not get lost in the crowd.

“Look Petey! Star Wars!” Morgan announced once they made it the store, dragging him over to the display and Peter was mildly surprised by her excitement as he wouldn’t have thought those films would have been in her remit. Considering the amount of Disney movies, she consumed on a daily basis, he would have assumed that she’d want something with that theme.

“Cool right? I made a Death Star with my best friend once,” Peter spoke, gesturing to the packet on the shelf and her face lit up with childlike glee at such a notion, bouncing on the balls of her feet as her eyes darted over the collection for something they could build.

“Daddy gave me that one, but I broke it,” she said, pointing at a model of the Millennium Falcon and Peter’s stomach dropped. She couldn’t really be referring to-

“Did he buy this one for you?” He asked.

“No, he found it in the garage.”

The LEGO set seven-year-old Peter had been desperate to get for his birthday after he had first been introduced to the original trilogy of films and himself and his father had worked on it for months, not finishing it until Tony had returned from his leave in Afghanistan. Peter had kept it every since. His father had given one of his most treasured childhood relics to his second child who was too young to be playing with it.

He bit his lip harshly until it drew droplets of blood to stop himself from saying anything he would regret, but he was internally combusting. He felt betrayed and angry, even though he knew he couldn’t be furious with Morgan because she was too little to understand and obviously didn’t mean to break the toy, but he also couldn’t help but be mad at her.

He could only grin and bear it as he allowed her to talk his ear off as she selected a set, which Peter paid for with the money their father had given him, uninterested in buying anything for himself.

Tony knew there was something wrong from the moment the children appeared at the meeting point outside a Next store. He knew his son better than he knew himself and alarm bells were ringing off when the teen had returned to the silent treatment towards not just Morgan and Pepper, but himself as well and it felt like a knife to his heart.

He didn’t comment on the fact that there was only one toy in the bag, or how the teen immediately let go of his sister’s hand the moment he had the opportunity to do so. It didn’t help that the weather seemed to have taken a turn for the worst whilst they were indoors, snow starting to fall from a thick cloud front and the air noticeably a few degrees colder. Tony didn’t want to push anything, but his son’s sudden drop in mood was definitely a red flag and he knew that something must have happened whilst he was alone with Morgan.

The drive home was uneventful, and the uncomfortable atmosphere was only lessened slightly by the quiet playing of The Carpenters in the background, which Pepper hummed along to every once in a while. On the way back, Peter got a text from Ned to check how he was doing and if he was free to stay over that weekend coming up, which Peter replied explaining that he would have to ask his father first but staying with Ned instead of his own family sounded more appealing at this point.

They pulled up at the cabin and Morgan started babbling about the burgers they were going to have for tea and, unfortunately, Peter couldn’t sneak away to his bedroom as he was roped into cutting the potatoes for some homemade chips whilst his father prepared the salad.

They worked in an uncomfortable silence for a few minutes, with Peter spending so much time in his own head debating on how to bring up the possibility of going to Ned’s for the weekend the next day that he almost cut off his own finger whilst he was pealing his second potato, cursing under his breath when the blade sliced some of his skin. He knew it hadn’t gone unnoticed by his ever attentive and observant father, as he could practically feel him stirring further down the counter.

“You got something you wanna tell me, kid?” Tony spoke after a pause, Peter turning to stare blankly in his direction to be met with the inquisitive expression and crafty smirk he often saw on his father’s face.

“It’s not like you to bring out the big boy words unless you’re stewing over something crazy, am I right?”

Peter would usually indulge in his father’s teasing, but he wasn’t in the right state of mind to play along, so he simply shrugged his shoulders and returned to slicing the potatoes.

“Maybe,” he mumbled.

The smile slipped from the man’s face when he received the minimalistic response, concern etching across his features amongst the intensity of his scrutiny. “Pete-“

“Ned texted,” Peter interrupted without looking up from his task, although he wasn’t even concentrating on what he was doing.

“Oh?”

“Yeah, he-“

“Daddy, Petey! Look at me!” Morgan suddenly chirped from behind, skipping into the kitchen in one of the new cream jumpers they had bought her at the mall.

Tony took a quick glance at his daughter and plastered a smile of enthusiasm on his face. “Looking sharp, little miss. How about you go and start setting the table whilst your brother and I finish prepping?”

“Oh, okay!” She beamed, darting off to gather the mats.

Tony turned back to Peter, who hadn’t uttered a word to his sister and was resuming with his task once again. “Cat got your tongue?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Peter retorted, the sharp tone of voice dripping in attitude stunning the man for a moment. “It’s a jumper, what am I supposed to say?” The knife clonked loudly against the chopping board.

“Hey! What’s going on with you? Where’s the attitude coming from, huh?” Tony demanded.

“Nothing, alright?! I can’t get a word in edgeways without her barging in, it’s like she demands attention and everybody else has to just deal with it. Forgive me if I’m just a little bit aggravated,” Peter snapped, dropping the items with a harsh sigh of frustration to turn his full attention on his father.

Tony held his hands up in the universal sign of surrender, although the hint of sternness lingered in his dark eyes to remind the teen to tread carefully with his next sentences.

“Alright, alright, put your pitchforks away, kid. She’s four so you need to cut her some slack, she doesn’t know boundaries like you and me. Just tell me what you were going to say.”

“Ned’s got a new game he wants me to try out with him, so I said I could stay over this weekend, but I would ask you first. I just assumed it would be fine.”

“Sorry, buddy, I haven’t had a chance to tell you yet, but I’ve booked a holiday home for all four of us to stay at this weekend. It’ll give us a chance to take a break, a proper break from everything and you will have plenty of time to spend some time with your sister,” Tony said.

“This cabin is basically like a holiday home, so why did you book it?”

“It’s in Miami, so the weather will be warmer,” Tony stated, dryly, raising an eyebrow at his son’s terrible attitude; it was rare that the teen spoke to him like this and he knew that there must be something going on that the kid wasn’t telling him about.

“C’mon, Dad, I haven’t had a proper chance to see Ned since…you know…I’ve only seen him at school and I miss him.”

“Peter, you saw him a few nights ago when we had that barbecue with his family.”

“That was different and anyway, I’ve got too much homework to do to go away, so you three should go, it doesn’t really matter-“ Peter begun.

“Daddy-“

“In a minute, honey.”

“-if I go because I can work on my assignments with Ned and-“

“Daddy-“

“God!” Peter exploded, whipping round to glare daggers at the little girl holding a napkin in the shape of a swan which she must have just made whilst they were talking. She jumped in shock and her face scrunched up as if she was about to cry when the teen turned on her. “What the hell?! Can’t you shut up for five minutes!”

“Peter!” His father rebuked, tone stern and sharp, leaving no room for argument and something he hadn’t heard for a long time come from the man’s mouth. “You don’t talk to your sister like that, apologise right now!”

“Why should I?” Peter demanded, throwing his hands up in disbelief. “She’s been talking non-stop all day, I can’t even talk to you anymore without her always butting in. Oh yeah, thanks for giving her one of the most important objects from my childhood and just letting her trash it, she gets away with freaking murder! You know how important that was to me, Dad, it was all I had when you were in Afghanistan, it’s like you don’t even care!”

His father’s expression morphed from one of fury and severe disappointment, to something less tangible and clear once he finally spewed out the words he had been wanting to say for quite a long time. It was almost as if he was angry and sad at the same time, because he was immediately taken aback by the statement, but the sorrow and guilt was creeping over his features when he was reminded of the incident.

Morgan let out a little whine at the shouting, tears trickling down her face as she watched the scene, swan scrunched up in his fist and now just a scrap of paper.

“It’s okay, baby, go and see Mommy, your brother will come and apologise to you later,” his father said to her and she nodded her head, timidly, before scampering off.

“You know what? I can’t be dealing with this, I’m going for a walk,” Peter stated, already marching in the direction of the front door so he could grab his jacket from the cupboard. He was startled to feel tears burning the back of his eyes.

“Peter! Peter, it’s too cold for you to go out there dressed like that!” Tony yelled after him and he hadn’t heard him come up behind, but as he was opening the door, a warm hand was clutching onto his elbow. His father’s eyes were glassy. “Please stay, we can talk this out, baby,” he begged and the next words that came out of the teen’s mouth was like a stab to both of their already wounded hearts.

“We haven’t talked in a long time, Dad.”

Peter disappeared into the forest when the snow begun to fall.

…

He didn’t have a plan on where he was going. He hadn’t thought anything through. He hadn’t even chosen the right jacket. It was a bottle green made of a thin material, one that was better suited to Spring and definitely not in temperatures that caused runny noses and shivers to tremor down ridged bodies.

It was stupid to just storm out like that, Peter knew it, but he wasn’t thinking logically right now, he wasn’t thinking at all.

He was numb. He was already sorry for how he had spoken to Morgan, he had been as soon as the enraged fuelled words had left his mouth. She was only four years old, she didn’t know any better. His father was right.

He knew that she didn’t mean to destroy his toy, but that was the thing, it was just a toy. A simple piece of engineering made from plastic blocks, it didn’t really symbolise anything. The important thing was that his father had come home all those years ago and that was all that mattered.

Now that Peter thought about it, he knew that he was very lucky. Sure, things were different now and he wasn’t the only important thing in his father’s life anymore like it had been a long time ago, but that didn’t matter in the grand scheme of things. Morgan hadn’t replaced him and there wasn’t any competition between them.

The further he got into the forest, the more snow that begun to settle on the rock-hard grass and the more he had to hug himself tightly to instil warmth in his bones, the more he realised that his father hadn’t given the LEGO to his sister for her to play with. The obvious intention, which the teen was ashamed to only just piece together now, was to help her get to know her brother.

It could be the only explanation as to why she was so interested in him and was always talking to or about him. She had heard so many stories from their father and Pepper whilst he had been gone. Peter had seen the five years differently up until now, sitting under a pine tree where the snow hadn’t quite reached yet. For the month he had been back, he had been overwhelmed with the prospect of having a four-year-old sibling and knowing nothing about them, but he hadn’t stopped to think what it might be like from their side.

Peter had seen the photo behind the one of Howard Stark on the mantlepiece above the sink. Morgan would have seen it too. His father had told him of the night that he had broken down whilst doing the dishes and Morgan had snuck out of bed to get a juice pop from the freezer, bumping into him on the way and witnessing his raw grief for his first born that no young child should ever have to see.

His father had told her everything that night about her brother and she had been brimming with curiosity and unconditional love ever since, she was sweet in that way. His father was right, Peter had gone out of his way to avoid her unless it was necessary to spend time with her and she didn’t deserve that.

He sat under that tree for longer than he could have comprehended until he realised that it was beginning to get dark and he hadn’t even tracked where he’d been walking. The snow was a few inches deep now and his breath was emanating in big puffs, the tips of his ears feeling as if they had been dunked in ice cold water and he shook his head from his deep thoughts.

Standing on shaky legs, he surveyed the area and realised with a heavy pang that he had no idea where he was. His father had talked about taking him and Morgan on a camping trip near the mountains, but so far since he had come back from The Blip, he hadn’t had a chance to explore the beautiful area around the cabin and it was too cold at the moment for them to plan that.

Peter pulled out his phone from his jean pocket, grateful that he luckily had it on him before he stormed out, but he ought to know that good luck wasn’t with him today as there wasn’t any service in the area. He was out in freezing temperatures with a lightweight jacket, no hat, no gloves or scarf and no way of contacting help.

Damn, this wasn’t looking good.

…

It was four o’clock when Tony decided that enough was enough. It had been about an hour since Peter left and no matter how any missed calls and unread texts popped up on his phone, his determination hadn’t weathered.

The fact was that it was below freezing, and his kid was out there alone and vulnerable. Morgan had calmed down a while ago, but she was still visibly shaken by seeing her brother and father arguing like that in the kitchen and she preferred to stay close to her parents for the time being.

By the seventh missed call, the billionaire had had enough. He was going to find his son and sort out this rift between them once and for all. He and Peter had always been so close, even when he was being a selfish (for lack of a better word) prick back when he almost got Pepper and his baby killed for his own acts of stupidity with the incidents regarding Hammer, Killian and so many more. Peter’s father was his hero and not just because of his alter ego.

Iron Man was cool to young Peter, but his Daddy was cooler because he had been the one who made Iron Man in the first place with his own bare hands and a determination to right the wrongs he had created in the past. Even at a young age, Peter had believed in him and Tony loved him for it. They were like two sides of the same coin; they needed each other and depended on each other and no matter what adversaries they faced, they always managed to overcome them.

Tony couldn’t imagine what it was like for his child to come back after five years and see that things had changed in not only the real world, but his own private life too, so Tony had tried to accommodate this as much as possible by allowing him the breathing space he needed.

He had been so overwhelmed with the idea of his long-lost son finally returning to him that he had failed to see the complicated emotions his kid would be experiencing from being thrust into a new life and a fresh start. Well, not only more. He was going to put his child first and get to the bottom of the problem once and for all because he owed it to Peter.

“I’m going to go and find him,” he told Pepper, who was slinging the homemade burgers into the oven after preparing the other ingredients.

She smiled with the knowing look in her eye that she always had.

“Be careful and bring him home,” she instructed, and he returned the smile, leaning over to press a kiss to her cheek and then one to Morgan’s head from where she was sitting on the sofa watching a cartoon.

He grabbed his thick black jacket, stopping briefly to slip on his matching hat and gloves, as well as Peter’s to stuff in his pocket, before venturing out into the snowy wilderness.

The terrain was hard, and the sky was beginning to darken, so he took a flashlight from the garage and headed up to the nearest path which led into the heart of the woods.

He knew Peter and was certain that the teen wouldn’t have been thinking clearly and logically like he usually did with the emotional state he had been in, so there was a high chance that he had plonked himself down somewhere with no clear destination in his head. Tony just hoped that it was under a tree, so at least he would have some protection from the bitter wind and frosty temperature.

The genius trudged through the snow and ice for almost twenty minutes, calling his son’s name a few times and even begging him to come out if he was hiding from him, but he severely doubted it in this weather.

Peter wasn’t stupid, he’d always been quick-witted and a fast thinker, he was his father’s son after all. Morgan was the same, but she had her mother’s restraint, whereas when Tony and Peter had an idea they were stubborn and determined until the last minute to see it through.

Whilst he was musing on this thought, a sudden rustling could be heard ahead, and his head whipped up, heart jolting when he recognised the figure as his freezing cold son.

Peter was violently shivering, his arms tightly wrapped around his slender frame in a poor attempt to self-regulate in such a thin jacket and even from the few metres between them in the rapidly dimming light, Tony could see the red hue dusted across both cheeks and the tips of his ears, as well as the clear fear embedded in his child’s doe eyes.

“Peter!” Tony breathed, voice breaking as relief overwhelmed him and he almost tripped over his own feet to get to his trembling son.

“Dad…” Peter whined, sounding a lot like the child he used to be, and he practically fell into his father’s arms the moment the elder was close enough, clinging to the back of his jacket like a dying man and pressing his face into the crook of his neck. Tony almost pulled away at the sudden shock of the teen’s ice-cold nose against his skin, but he didn’t.

Instead, he turned his head and placed a loving kiss into his son’s chilled curls, just as soft and bouncy as they always were but they were damp from the snow and Tony wanted to get his kid out of these conditions as quickly as possible.

“I’m sorry, Dad, I’m so sorry. I-I I’ll apologise to Morgan, I promise, I didn’t mean what I said,” Peter spoke voice slurring as sobs overtook him, shoulders trembling from more than just the cold. Tony almost scoffed, it was typical Peter to have something other than the intermediate danger he was in when other thoughts were eating away at him.

“Hey,” the father murmured, caressing the back of his son’s head with a gentle touch, before pulling back to look him in the eye.

“You’ve got nothing to apologise for, honey, alright? Well, you’re right, you should to your sister, but that’s not just it.” His thumb caressed his son’s cheek, the boy leaning into the touch and soaking up the comfort like a sponge, before the older man reached into his pocket to softly slip the teen’s hat over his head, tucking an errant lock behind the fabric as he did.

“It’s my fault, pal. I was so wrapped up in my own feelings with having my baby back again that I never stopped to think how scary and complicated this whole thing must be like for you,” Tony admitted, tone soft and Peter’s heart fluttered at being called ‘baby’ twice in such a short space of time.

He couldn’t remember the last time his father had addressed him as such, but it never failed to make him feel warm and gooey inside. He supposed having a young child again had converted his father again.

Tony looped the scarf around his son’s neck, before pulling the boy into his arms again, rubbing his back vigorously to generate some heat.

“C’mon, buddy, latch onto me, I’ll carry you back, you concentrate on staying warm for me, okay?”

“But-“

“It’s alright, we’ll talk about it more at home. Lemme just make sure you’re safe first.”

Peter didn’t have the strength to argue any further because a warm cabin with a blazing fireplace and hot meal sounded perfect at that moment, so he clung to his father with his legs securely wrapped around the man’s waist and face buried in his neck.

His father cradled the back of his head like one would a new-born, the slow sway and rock of his body as the man walked back to their home feeling oddly familiar and soothing.

Things were quiet between them. He was reminded of a time when everything was simpler, and he was smaller, when he was carried like this often. He could still smell his father’s favourite deodorant and that metallic tang of motor oil from his hidden place in the crook of his neck.

…

When they finally reached the cabin, Tony placed his son on the sofa in front of the fireplace and grabbed the grey blanket they had stored in one of the cupboards to drape over the teen, which Peter immediately huddled under, bringing the soft fabric to his face to rub against frozen cheeks.

His father gently lifted his head forward to remove the scarf and slip the hat off, promising that he would be back with the burgers in a few minutes and stern orders not to move from that spot. Peter didn’t have any intentions to anyway.

He detected light footsteps behind him long before they reached his location and his heart strings tugged painfully when he recognised the obvious tip toeing around him from his little sister, as if he was about to explode at her again for doing something as simple as disturb his thoughts.

The teen turned his head to the side to see her dressed in cream pyjamas with small teddies covering the top and bottoms and a small smile perked at the corner of his lips at the heart-warming sight. She was adorable, and he had never seen it before; he hadn’t wanted to. She was picking up the Black Widow action figure she must have left earlier.

“Hey, squirt, can you come over here for a minute? I promise I won’t bite,” Peter spoke, watching her apprehensively as she lifted her gaze to his, regarding him with intelligence beyond her years and it suddenly struck him just how much she looked like their father.

It wasn’t just that though, she looked an awful lot like himself too with those dark chocolate brown eyes and an inquisitive edge which rarely left him, or their father for that matter.

She eventually made the decision to walk over and stand in front of him, gaze still wary and unsure and it broke the teen’s heart to look at her dejected expression. Peter freed his arms from the blanket and gingerly took both of her small hands in his.

“I’m sorry I shouted at you before, it was really stupid of me. I’m dealing with a lot of stuff at the moment and you’re a bit young to understand this, but I never should have taken it out on you.” Peter looked down for a moment and wet his lips, a small sigh escaping him before he made eye contact again.

“You’re my sister and you always will be, nothing will ever change that. I’m sorry I’ve been such a jerk…” He trailed off, unsure of what else to say to a five-year-old, but it turned out that he didn’t need to because she was smiling. She was smiling and for the first time since he came back from The Blip, his returning smile wasn’t forced.

“It’s okay, Petey, I was talking a lot and you were talking to Daddy, so I was just being naughty,” she said, and Peter laughed at this.

“No, you’re allowed to talk to him whenever you want, he’s your Daddy too,” he replied, a warm smile creeping onto his face when he spoke the word he hadn’t uttered in so many years.

“I’m sorry I broke your toy,” she murmured, sadly.

“Oh no, it’s fine, squirt. Really.” He squeezed her hands in reassurance. It was just a toy, something I built with Dad when I was a little bit older than you, so that’s why I was upset at first, but then I realised that it’s not important. What’s important that we’re all here and together, I don’t know if that makes sense?”

She grinned, nodding her head vigorously, surging forward to wrap her small arms around his neck, hugging him tightly and he didn’t even hesitate to return the gesture as he might have done before. Her hair smelt like strawberries, just like Pepper’s did when she embraced him, and it was perfect.

“Daddy cried when you were gone, he said you would be a great brother.”

There was a sudden lump in his throat and he could barely get his next words out around it. “Oh yeah? What do you think?” He managed to choke out, eyes burning and heart heavy.

“You’re super cool! I love you.” She squeezed him a little tighter and he laughed, wetly, drying his tears with the back of his hand so she wouldn’t feel them on her shoulder.

“I love you too, you’re super cool.” He pulled back just as their father was coming over with Peter’s tea and a hot mug of cocoa.

“Hey, kiddo, you wanna go bug Mom whilst Pete has his tea?” Tony spoke, ruffling Morgan’s hair affectionately as he handed the plate to his oldest.

“Okay!” She chirped and scampered off, not before giving her brother a quick peck on the cheek which instantly caused him to flush bright red and make him wonder how he ever saw her as anything but cute in the first place.

His father was regarding him with a curious look of amusement and observation, a small smirk plastered across his features as he plonked himself down. There were only a few inches between them as Peter ate his burger and chips, the latter being surprisingly good considering the poor job he had done at chopping before whilst he was too caught up with the negative spiral of emotions in his head.

“I never gave her a proper chance and she’s already forgiven me for snapping at her like I did,” Peter spoke after several minutes of them both stewing on their own thoughts and deciding when to speak up. Tony was glad that Peter went first, he deserved to get some things off his chest.

“I just kept on thinking that she was taking my place, stealing you away…I know it sounds awful, but it just didn’t feel like I fit in here anymore with you and Pepper and Morgan. You guys were the perfect family and you’d moved on…”

Tony’s expression contorted into raw pain, eyebrows furrowing at hearing his son admit to feeling left out when Peter couldn’t be further from the truth. He wrapped his arm around the teen and guided his head to his chest where the arc reactor used to be, where Peter still hadn’t gotten used to no longer having to accommodate his head around the chunk of metal, resting his own head against his son’s.

“Listen to me, Pete, and I want you to really listen to get this through that stubborn head of yours. God you’re too much like me you know,” he chuckled, bumping his chin against the boy’s fore-head and pressing a kiss there in the process, earning a small giggle from his kid and it was like a heavy weight had been lifted off of his shoulders from finally hearing the sound he hadn’t heard in a very long time.

“Morgan never replaced you and she was never meant to. Pepper and I, we finally got back together and of course things escalated from there, but Morgan could never take away what you gave me, buddy. You were the most important thing in my life and when you literally disappeared to dust in my arms, a part of me went with you and when you came back, I…”

He paused to quell the intense emotion the memory of holding his son in his arms again after five whole years without him, before continuing. “I was just overwhelmed that I had my little man with me again. I never stopped to think how confusing things must have been for you. I’m sorry I put so much pressure on you.”

“Well, I guess I never really tried with the whole new family thing, I just jumped to conclusions, so it’s not all on you,” Peter quipped with a short chuckle.

“Guess not, smart ass,” Tony chuckled, rubbing his hand up and down the teen’s arm to generate some more warmth.

“I just need you to know that I love you, alright pal? Nothing will ever change that, no matter what happens. You don’t need to compete with Morgan for my attention, because there’s plenty of me to go around and you kids will always come first, there’s no doubt about that. Capiche?” He playfully tugged at his kid’s ear, earning him a high-pitched shriek and an elbow in the ribs as the teen sat up properly, grinning brightly.

“Alright, alright, I get you!” He laughed, rubbing at his sore ear and shooting the man a mock glare.

Tony chuckled again, coarse hand reaching out to smooth his son’s unruly curls down, dark eyes shining with humour and unconditional love. “That’s better. We all good?”

Peter smiled and nodded. “Yeah. I love you, Dad,” he expressed, leaning forward to press his face in the man’s broad shoulder and hug him the best he could from the position they were in.

His father chuckled, pressing a quick kiss to the top of his head. “Love you too, honey,” he murmured, accommodating for their awkward embrace by shuffling along the sofa and lying on his back, bringing his son with him so the teen’s head was resting on his sturdy chest and he could hold his kiddo close.

He fumbled for the blanket which he pulled over the both of them, a heavy content sigh escaping him as he settled them, hand coming up to thread his fingers through his son’s soft curls and relishing in the feeling of holding him in the safety of his arms.

“I’ll fall asleep if we stay like this,” Peter warned, giggling a bit as his father tickled his scalp with rough fingernails.

“Don’t care, I’m making up for lost time. If I can cuddle my second baby all night long, I can definitely do the same with my first,” his father retorted, lips brushing against his hairline.

Peter’s smile widened, and he nuzzled his face into the soft cotton of his father’s black jumper, allowing his eyes to slip closed as he sunk into the comfort like it was his lifeline. For the first time since he returned from the other realm, he slipped into a peaceful rest.

If Pepper happened to wander into the living room ten minutes later and spot her husband fast asleep with her equally passed out step-son drooling into his father’s shirt, well, no-body had to know about that. Some things stayed in the Stark household.

Chapter Text

Just because it had been expected didn’t make it any easier. The whole of Midtown High was riddled with students dropping out for weeks on end, it was almost like the plague had swarmed on New York and infested every single semi-large institution like a relentless, unstoppable force.

Peter was sick, very sick. He was so sick that he could hardly move from his single bed to the doorway of his room and that was just a testament to how crappy and stuffy he felt, considering how small his bedroom was in the flat he had shared with his Aunt May for as long as he could remember.

As he lay there hating every second of being awake, yet the banging, throbbing pain in his head threatened any chance of rest his body definitely craved and needed, he figured how ironic it was that a superhero could be defeated by a simple everyday illness like the flu.

He had been reduced to lazing in bed like a sloth, a very sweaty sloth with the world’s worst sore throat, tumbling tummy ache and an aching body that reminded the miserable teen of the heavy feeling he had in his bones when the Vulture dropped him into that freezing cold lake. The shock had consumed from the top of his head all the way down to the tips of his toes but being stuck inside his own parachute had weighed him down like nothing he had ever experienced before. He had always been light and agile, even as a child and after the spider bite, his skills had only become enhanced by his new DNA and as he succumbed to the water surrounding him that night, his body had never felt so heavy.

Then Mr Stark had saved him.

May was working an extra shift at the hospital, even though she usually didn’t take Saturdays because she always prioritised weekends as the time to spend with her nephew, but things had been busy lately with the virus spreading across the city. Peter told her to take the shift, it wasn’t like they didn’t need the money, and everything had been going fine and dandy for him up until a couple hours ago when his head began to throb like the inside of a drum and he suddenly felt so tired.

May called about twenty minutes ago when she was on her break. It was about five thirty, but Peter had been burying half of his face in his pillow and probably couldn’t have even recited his own name at that point if he’d tried.

“Are you feeling alright, baby? You sound all croaky over there,” she had inquired in concern.

Peter wasn’t surprised considering the unflattering position he had been in, body slumped across the bed sheets and arm just barely managing to keep the phone at his ear.

“’M fine, May, ‘on’t worry about it. ‘s just a cough, you need t’go back to work…” He had slurred out, only after he cleared his throat a couple of times and barely held back his pained groan as the action caused the swelling there to become even more enflamed and irritated.

“Hmm, okay…” She didn’t sound convinced. She was too perceptive to fall for his terrible lying, she always had been. “Well, take some ibuprofen for me and get some rest, alright? I’ve gotta go, baby, but I’ll see you soon. I larb you!”

“Y-yeah, love you…” Peter had spoke in his uncharacteristically low, gravelly voice, before hanging up.

He never managed to leave the bed.

Twenty long minutes later, his situation hadn’t improved. The most he had accomplished was rolling onto his back, before deciding that his headache had felt marginally better when he was on his front, so he resumed that position once again. At least he didn’t feel like throwing up there as well. He figured it was because his stomach was pushing into the mattress and stopping it from convulsing, but his brain wasn’t up to much thinking right now. That was a first.

He spoke too soon. The teen only moved his head very slightly to try and find a more comfortable position to breathe with his nose being squashed into the pillow, but a fierce throb at the front of his skull and a sudden urge to throw up his measly portion of waffles he had eaten that morning consumed him.

A mix between a high-pitched whine and a soft whimper tore through his lips as the pain became unbearable for a moment. Hot tears stung at his eyes and combined with the blazing high temperature, it felt like his whole body was on fire.

“Jesus, kid, you’re in a bit of a pickle there.”

A very familiar voice, the warmth and reassurance of his tone bringing some form of comfort to the ailing boy.

He squinted through his eyelids to the harsh light coming through the small gap at the bottom of the blind covering his window and rolled onto his back, which didn’t come without its discomfort as he slowly turned his aching head to see Mr Stark standing in the doorway.

He was dressed casually, something only few individuals like the Avengers or Pepper or Happy and Peter had the privilege of seeing, in his favourite Black Sabbath top with the dark grey sleeves cut off at the elbows and black slacks. The teen had never heard him come in, but he wasn’t wearing shoes, so he must have taken them off at the front door.

“M-mi-ster S-St-tark…” Peter slurred, sounding as if he was on Death’s door itself and the billionaire’s concerned expression immediately hardened with something harsher as the boy’s tone sounded awfully similar to the time he disappeared in the older man’s arms on Titan. Tony detested any reminder of that tragic day and he quickly shook his head to rid it of the harrowing images, before making his way over to the small twin bed.

“C’mon, Pete, we’re way past the ‘Mr Starks’ now,” Tony commented with a soft chuckle, heart strings tugging as the kid blinked up at him with glassy eyes full of anguish and pain. “You’re saucy hot aunt called, said a certain Spider-Kid was sounding like crap over the phone.”

The older man sat beside the youth on the bed, reaching over to gently feel the boy’s cheeks and fore-head with the back of his hand, wincing at the heat pouring off the red tinged skin.

“Mhm, you’re cooking up a fire here, I could fry an egg on these babies.”

“’ony, come on…” Peter whined, even though he was nuzzling his cheek into the man’s coarse hand like a puppy.

His doe shaped chocolate brown eyes begged his mentor to drop the dry sarcasm for once and with the state the teen was currently in, Tony actually couldn’t act any quicker.

The small smirk dropped, and his eyebrows furrowed with worry again, fingers curling up to brush over the boy’s temples and tenderly comb through the baby soft chestnut curls.

“Alright, hands are up. Lay it on me, what’s going on in here?” He asked, lightly stroking the kid’s hair and raising an inquisitive eyebrow at the miserable teen.

“Head’s bangin’, throat kills, feel like ‘m gonna throw up when I move,” Peter spoke, leaning into his mentor’s touch like it was his anchor to keeping his mind in the real world. It still bewildered him beyond imagining how this incredible, kind boy so eager to please could attach himself to Tony and see him as somebody more than Howard ever was to him, but it had just happened.

They were like partners in crime now, two sides of the same coin and after the events on Titan, Tony was never going to let the kid go again.

“That bad, huh?” He murmured, sympathetically, raking his fingers through the soft curls, nails gently scratching at the scalp. “You had any pain meds?”

“Couldn’t move…” Peter mumbled, trying with some difficulty to sit up and properly talk to his mentor, but he was stopped by a steady, warm hand on his shoulder. “You d-didn’t h-have to come h-here, T-Tony…”

That strong, yet tender touch was so much like Ben’s hand used to feel when he would ruffle his hair affectionately as a boy or pull him into a warm embrace. It was strange that the same hands lived on in different people and it had always been in Tony.

Tony, who made the teen feel so safe and comforted, so reassured and cherished.

“Ah ah, none of that, kiddo,” he reprimanded, gently, bunching up the pillow and pushing the teen to rest against it so he was slightly more risen and inclined.

“Do you really think after all we’ve been through that I would just leave you in this not so dignified state?” He raised a suggestive eyebrow, hand once more returning to the boy’s hair to delicately brush back a couple of fallen locks away from wide doe eyes that never failed to melt the billionaire’s heart.

Morgan looked at him in this way, so trusting and ready to soak up every little thing he said or did, so it only seemed fitting that his spiderling was currently gazing at him in such a way that he felt like there was nothing he wouldn’t do for this kid.

A choked sob escaped the boy’s lips and the elder’s expression immediately softened, heart strings tugging at the distressed cry and free hand reaching out to cup the kid’s flushed cheek, thumb stroking the fallen tear.

“Shh, it’s gonna be alright, buddy, come on. Mr Stark’s here now…” Tony murmured, tone low and gentle; small smile tugging at the corner of his lips at the sentiment and he briefly wondered how he had become so soft. Maybe he always was. He felt certain that Pepper would agree there.

“S-sorry, it’s just…I…I really love you, ‘ony,” Peter rasped, managing a small smile in return as he grasped the man’s fore-arm with his hand and squeezed lightly.

Tony gave a fond chuckle at the declaration, laugh lines stretching around his dark eyes and crinkling with age, chugging underneath his kid’s chin with a finger.

“You and me both, dear,” he remarked, tone indulgent and affectionate. “Now lemme go for just a few minutes whilst I get you your poison.”

His smile widened at the half-hearted eye roll and funny face he received for the comment.

“They’ll be in one of the kitchen drawers,” Peter supplied, body visibly sinking into the mattress and the pillow every passing second. God the kid needed something soon, otherwise he really would be a wreck.

“Right.” Tony wandered into the kitchen and it didn’t take him long to find the supply of ibuprofen in a cupboard. He also poured a glass of orange juice and headed back to Peter’s bedroom, where he was pleased to find the kid hadn’t moved a muscle and was eagerly waiting for his return, or the medicine, or probably both. Peter perked up and smiled when his gaze landed on the billionaire. Yep, definitely both.

“Scooch over a bit, kid.”

“But you’ll get sick too…” Peter protested, staring at him with wide eyes.

“Don’t care, that’s my spot, I reserved it,” Tony retorted, dryly and Peter smirked at this, which turned into a low groan as he shuffled across the mattress, the springs squeaking in protest.

“Hey, where do you think you’re going,” the older man spoke once he fell onto the bed, slinging an arm around the teen’s shoulders and yanking him back against his side.

Peter let out a short squawk at the sudden movement, slumping into the man’s chest as a coughing fit took over. Tony sat him upright and patted his back firmly until the worst had passed, before settling the boy against his sturdy chest once more, lifting the glass to his lips.

“Drink up, bud. Slow sips.”

Peter took a few weak sips and winced slightly when the liquid did little to soothe his throat, but it did feel good in his dry mouth. He watched with tired eyes as his mentor tapped a couple of tablets out of the bottle and handed them to him, holding the glass up again to make the process of swallowing them easier.

Peter blushed as he was allowing himself to be taken care of like a small child, but it didn’t make him feel embarrassed.

This is what people did when they loved each other. A warm feeling filled his chest when he realised that Tony Stark felt that way about him, because he was risking his own health by being so close to a sick teenager and was going out of his way to ensure he was looked after, doting on him like a father would their child.

The thought made him smile and it didn’t go unnoticed by the ever-attentive billionaire.

“Never knew pain meds tasted that good, kiddo,” Tony chuckled, the low sound rumbling against Peter’s arm from where he was leaning into the elder’s side and it was strange how comforted the simple action made him feel.

“No,” he laughed the best he could with a sore throat and chesty cough. “I mean, I-I was just thinking that this is nice…” He cuddled closer, resting his head on the other’s shoulder where his nose tickled the man’s neck and he could inhale the familiar scent of black coffee and motor oil. It was something distinctly Tony and Tony always made him feel safe and protected.

“Yeah?”

“Mhm…you’re comfy.”

The elder snorted at this. “You’re a real pain in my ass, y’know?”

“Yeah, but you love me anyway,” the boy mumbled, nuzzling his face against the soft cotton of the man’s shirt and releasing a quiet sigh of contentment and approval at their position.

A small sniff followed, before gentle lips and the unmistakable tickle of facial hair prickled his fore-head. “Yeah, kid. I love you,” came the murmured reply.

“’ove y’too…”

The kid was passed out from exhaustion a few moments later and it gave Tony time to discreetly rub at his wet eyes with his free hand, before once more encircling them around his favourite young adult in a secure cocoon again.

They remained snuggled up together for the next few hours, only moving to allow the older man to make the youth a bowl of chicken soup to soothe his sore throat, before resuming their previous position.

When May Parker arrived later on that evening after a long shift, she stumbled upon her peacefully snoring nephew lying on top of the billionaire, who had slumped down on the mattress, sound asleep. One arm was protectively holding the boy against a sturdy chest and the other was nestled in the chestnut curls, his chin resting against the top of the teen’s head.

She smiled, softly at the dirty dishes left on the bedside table, heart melting at the endearing sight and she almost felt as if she were intruding on such an intimate scene between her nephew and the man who had become like the boy’s father.

Her husband had been a wonderful father to Peter and although she missed him terribly every day, Tony Stark had filled that empty spot in her nephew’s life and she couldn’t be happier knowing that the man would always be there for their crazy Spider-kid.

Chapter Text

Paul Davies first met May Parker at a charity fund raiser for a homeless support shelter. She had helped organise it to aid those who had returned from the Blip find new homes after many snapped back to find their apartments, houses and entire way of life had been changed during their five-year absence.

Paul had also been one of the many billions of lifeforms throughout the galaxy who had fallen victim to the Mad Titan’s catastrophically devastating plan to rid the universe of half of life to enable a more sustainable outcome for future generations. If it hadn’t been for the Avengers, the ‘vanished’ would have stayed that way. Gone forever. Families and friends had joyous reunions, but the world saw a changed world which had been left in utter devastation since Thanos snapped his fingers.

Paul had been one of the hundreds, thousands of people across the world, who returned to discover that a new family had moved into their home during their absence. He had been just as shocked and bewildered as May Parker had been when she popped up in the tiny flat she shared with her nephew in Queens, New York and just a few hundred yards away, Paul Davies was dropped back into his luxurious, yet slightly worn apartment, only to find that a family of four now lived there.

In a way, he supposed it was better that he had been forcibly kicked out of his home of fifteen years. He was fifty-two now, had bought the place with his wife back when they were young, carefree and had successful careers as a nurse and a well-respected writer for the Daily Bugle. Then Sarah had gotten breast cancer and passed away aged forty-seven, five years ago. He had thrown himself into his work and had let the beautiful home he had built with the beautiful woman he had met in that hospital on the day he broke his leg when he tripped and fell down the stairs leading up to his old apartment, slowly fall to tatters around him.

May Parker had lost her husband and he had lost his wife. She had lost her home and so had he.

He had been housed in temporary accommodation just like hundreds of other people, hoping like everyone else that the Salvation Army would be able to help them find their new homes. Luckily, because of his financial benefits from his work, he was able to find a new luxurious, furnished apartment soon enough, but his good heart and moral values spurred him to attend the fund raiser to help others in need.

He was instantly taken in by May Parker’s kind, sweet and enthusiastic persona. It was a bonus to see Spider-Man there as well of course, because he was the neighbourhood’s hero and Paul had seen the spandex clad spiderling on the news, impressed and exhilarated by the masked youth’s abilities. It was May, however, who really caught the journalist’s attention. She seemed to radiate warmth and compassion, something Sarah used to unconditionally project onto anyone she met and this endearing, charming woman was no different.

They met at the water cooler, where Paul praised her for the selfless feat to help others in need and offered his own financial aid to support the people like him who were just trying to get by with what they had. The two hit it off from there and it only took about a month for their casual dates to move to something more serious when May finally introduced Paul to her sixteen year-old nephew, Peter.

Peter was a good, smart kid and Paul liked him a lot. It was clear that May had done a terrific job at raising the boy. After hearing about the tragic loss of Ben Parker, the last thing the journalist wanted was to create any tension between himself and Peter when he begun to form a relationship with the teen’s aunt. He didn’t want to feel like he was replacing the good man and surrogate father Ben had been to Peter and he was slightly surprised with how well the young Parker seemed to take his arrival.

Peter was always kind and polite; it was clear May’s compassion had rubbed off on him and he seemed just as selfless as her. He was very clever for his age and Paul often found himself bantering with the kid about educated topics and scientific discoveries, in depth conversations he didn’t think he would be having with a sixteen year-old boy.

However, Peter wasn’t always an open book like May was. He had been pretty quiet when they first met, which was to be expected of course with him meeting a stranger and obviously being protective of his aunt. Unfortunately, Paul had the sinking feeling that the often-reoccurring uncomfortable tension which seemed to shroud the teen on several occasions was something more than just the initial nerves of meeting his aunt’s new romantic partner.

There was something else there, something hidden underneath the happy exterior, the polite yet bumbling persona and cheesy grin. The fact was that Peter had big brown eyes that made him look five years younger than his true age, but they were the eyes of a man, of someone several years older than he actually was.

Yes, the teen had suffered much for someone so young, with the deaths of his parents and his uncle and being a victim of the Blip, but Paul was almost certain that the nice, good natured boy had to have something in his life which was causing him to appear so sad sometimes. He was an empty shell of the bright teen who had been filling the same shoes the day before.

Paul had voiced his concerns with May a couple times over dinner, but she always assured him that it was just the everyday challenges the kid faced at school which were bringing him down. The journalist begged to differ, but he didn’t speak up, even though he knew that there had to be something bigger going on. He was used to relying on instinct for his job and he knew that this kid was certainly not just dealing with petty bully problems or worrying about turning his homework in on time.

…

It all began when Tony Stark came to the apartment one Friday completely out of the blue. The Tony Stark. The one and only. The billionaire, genius and beloved superhero who had been one of the main reasons why Paul and so many others were even living and breathing in this new world.

The journalist knew, of course, about Peter’s internship with Stark (not that it was very surprising considering the kid’s incredible intellect and wisdom beyond his mere sixteen years), but it was still a huge shock to see the billionaire go out of his way to come to one of the poorer parts of New York.

Paul happened to be visiting at the same time, as May wanted to go out for Thai to celebrate their two-month anniversary. At the time, he hadn’t thought about what Peter would be doing to entertain himself. He was let in after a firm knock on the door and immediately stopped in his tracks when he saw the aforementioned Tony Stark sitting at the dining table beside Peter.

Although one of the most prolific figures in the world was sitting in May Parker’s living room/kitchen, it was incredible to see him appearing so casual. No body ever saw Tony Stark in anything other than a smart, expensive suit. He was always dressed for the occasion, courtesy of Pepper Potts of course, so this was something…unexpected to say the least.

He was wearing a Black Sabbath shirt of all things, the dark grey sleeves rolled up to the elbows, black jeans and designer trainers. Peter’s homework was spread out in front of them and they were sharing a churro which had been placed on a plate between them.

Peter smiled, brightly when May allowed him into the apartment, plucking a piece of pastry off the snack and popping it into his mouth.

“Hi, Paul. Guess you don’t need introductions, but…” He pulled a funny face and chuckled at the absurdity of the situation, Tony mimicking with a small chortle. It was the first time Paul had ever heard the man laugh and it was wholesome, natural. “Paul, Tony Stark. Tony, this is Paul.”

The genius snorted at the formal introductions, but not in a mocking way. It almost sounded indulgent, amused by the kid’s bumbling mannerisms.

“Yeah, thanks, kid.” The simple nickname could have sounded detached, cold, but it was the furthest from. The man’s tone was warm, carefree and affectionate. It was just from a few words that the journalists’ entire worldview of the billionaire was put into question.

“Nice to meet you, Paul. How’re you doing?” Tony spoke, casually, rising from the dining chair and holding his hand out for the other stunned man to shake. He was smiling kindly, amusement shining in his dark chocolate eyes, clearly humoured by the comical wide eyed, shell-shocked expression on the writer’s face.

“T-Tony Stark?” Paul only managed to stutter, overwhelmed with the craziness of the whole thing.

“The one and only,” Tony grinned, features lighting up instantly by the gesture. It was a genuine smile, not something forced for the cameras.

C’mon Paul, get a grip. “Err…p-pleasure to meet you.” He shook the other’s hand, feeling the roughness of the skin and the strong grip of an engineer.

“Tony’s staying over tonight, we’re gonna marathon The Mandalorian whilst you and May are out!” Peter expressed, enthusiastically and Paul’s gaze flashed back to the billionaire’s in confusion. Tony Stark was going to sit down with his intern and watch some sci-fi show. Okay, now I’ve seen it all.

He cleared his throat and shook his head with a smile. “Well, good luck. He’s already subjected me to all three original ones, hasn’t shut up about them since.”

“Hey!” Peter cried, indignantly at his poor joke, but Tony’s shoulders were shaking with laughter.

“Yeah, that’s Pete for you. Tell you what though, you won’t be lacking any knowledge on pop culture with this kid around,” he teased, crossing his arms over his sturdy chest and raising his eyebrows suggestively at the boy, who promptly stuck his tongue out in retort. “Not that you’d need that of course, working for the press and all,” Tony added, turning back to Paul and shrugging his shoulders with a smile.

The journalist was surprised with the pleasant tone of his voice, considering the fact that Stark had to deal with the media and press members on a daily basis and it would be understandable if he was harbouring at least some negative feelings towards somebody who worked in that sector. There wasn’t any malice in his voice at all.

“Y-yeah, I guess,” was all he managed to say, and relief surged through him when May returned from nipping to the toilet.

“Right! We ready to go then?” She announced, grabbing her coat and purse. “Are you feeling okay, hun? You’re a little pale,” she gently cupped his cheek and he nodded automatically.

“Yeah, of course! Er, you got everything?”

May laughed at his shaky voice, turning to Tony and her nephew, who were both smirking at the man. “Well, have fun guys! We’ll try not to make too much noise when we come back in, but no promises,” she joked.

Tony waved a dismissive hand at the comment and it was easy to read into the gesture, which was suggesting that the man was hardly going to tell May how to act in her own home. It was incredibly selfless and thoughtful, and Paul wouldn’t have initially imagined such a well-off businessman to even consider this.

“I’d be more worried about Pete keeping you both up with his fanboy antics,” he quipped, hands casually slipping into his jean pockets and thumbs perking out the top as an impish grin graced his features.

“Tony, c’mon, man…” Peter complained, rolling his eyes and burying his face in his hands as his cheeks flushed a rosy shade with embarrassment at the relentless teasing, earning a huff of laughter from the boy’s mentor.

His eyebrows scrunched together for a second, bright grin dazzling the onlookers as a rare moment of genuine delight and happiness stunned the journalist even more than he already was, if that were possible.

“Alright alright, claws are retracted, short stuff,” Tony retorted after the hilarity of the moment passed, giving the teen a playful pat on the arm before sitting himself back down again and smiling at the pair. “Great to meet you, Paul. Good luck!” He winked and lifted his hand in a quick wave to the couple.

Paul wet his lips in order to actually form a basic sentence after stumbling over his words for the past five minutes and plastered a matching smile on his face. “You too-“ (was it Tony or Mr Stark? The kid said Tony, but was that appropriate for a guy who only just met Tony freaking Stark?) “-Mr Stark. Um, see you round I guess.”

With those terrible parting words, Paul turned, wrapping a rigid arm around May’s waist and leading the way out the apartment.

…

A few hours later, Paul had managed to return to a fairly sane mind again after chatting through Peter’s internship with Mr Stark and becoming more and more fascinated by the concept. The way the two had been interacting, bantering with each other and the kid’s ability to keep up with the eccentric wit of the billionaire was incredibly endearing to the journalist.

May had explained how Peter often went over to Stark Industries to tinker with the man himself in the labs, do his homework and just generally hang out. It was usually every other weekend and then Tony would come to the Parkers’ flat to do similar things.

May expressed her gratitude towards the man for always being there to emotionally and financially support the family, especially Peter, by offering to help pay the monthly bills whenever the family struggled with his immense fortune. She had smiled as she recounted this, stating that her nephew absolutely adored Tony and she was certain that the affectionate feelings towards the man were fully realised and replicated from the other end.

The conversation soon moved onto other things and Paul could enjoy the rest of the date night with her, pushing all thoughts about Tony and his intern to the back of his mind until they were on their way back from the restaurant.

It was half eleven by the time Paul drove them back to the apartment and they kept their giggles and murmurs as quiet as two fairly drunk adults could be, as May opened the door for them.

The living room had been rearranged since they were last there, a pull-out bed assembled where the sofa was, and a few blankets strewn across the floor. A single lamp was on and faint sounds of shuffling were coming from the kitchen. Paul ducked his head around the door when May greeted either Peter or Tony. It was the latter of the two, dressed even more casually than before in a simple black top and maroon checkered pyjama pants, as he brought the dirty dishes that had been filled with popcorn and Coke over to the sink.

“I’m gonna have a shower, see you in a bit, hun,” May announced, leaning over to peck Paul on the lips.

“Alright, I’ll just grab a glass of water,” he said, feeling much more composed around the other man now that he had spoken with May about his role in the family’s life. He had nothing but great admiration and respect for everything Tony had done for May and Peter. “How was your evening, Mr Stark?”

“Tony, please,” the genius offered, pleasantly, shooting him a kind smile as he got to work on the dishes. It was odd to see him performing such a domestic task, but welcoming. “The kid’s got good taste, I’d give the show a solid seven outta ten,” he continued; Paul smirked at this remark.

“Yeah, he’s a good kid. Pretty enthusiastic about a lot of things,” he chuckled, quietly, grabbing the bottle of water from the fridge and a glass from the cupboard. “I can see why you chose him to be your intern, he’s very smart, very perceptive.”

Tony chuckled at this in agreement, stacking a plate on the drying rack. “Yeah, there’s not much that Pete doesn’t know. He even surprises me sometimes, if you can believe that?”

Paul laughed at the man’s surprising humility. “Wow, Peter Parker, huh?”

“Mhm, the next Tony Stark, I’m tellin’ ya.”

Paul smiled at this, swirling the water in the glass and taking a drink. “I’m guessing he was meant to sleep in here because of all the covers?” He gestured to the duvets strewn across the living room floor and sofa.

Tony snorted, glancing at them over his shoulder. “Yeah, but he clonked out about twenty minutes ago and I didn’t have the heart to let him sleep on the couch when he’s got his own bed to crash in. Typical Pete, always trying to put others before himself. Well, this is his home and I’d be damned if I let him sleep in anything other than his own bed.”

A short comfortable silence followed, as Paul reflected on the statement from the man he suddenly realised with an uncomfortable jolt he knew next to nothing about. Anything real. Anything that wasn’t for the cameras. Tony Stark may be a billionaire, a business tycoon, Iron Man, he might be all of that, but he was a human being with real feelings. He was a lot of children’s role model, but to Peter Parker, he was a mentor and a friend and that was a side to Tony Stark the world had never seen before. The real side, the human side.

“Alright, I’m gonna go get changed,” Paul announced, leaning around the other man to wash out his glass and place it next to the other drying dishes. “Good night, Tony.”

“Night night,” Tony grinned, giving him a friendly pat on the shoulder.

…

It was three am when Paul was awoken by something loud and bone chilling. A scream, he was sure of it and it wasn’t from far away by the sounds of it.

He blinked the sleep away from his eyes, raising his head and glancing at May. She was a heavy sleeper, so she was still quietly snoring beside him, but when he lifted his head, he could hear murmurs coming from down the hall.

His bladder was throbbing uncomfortably, so he carefully lifted the covers of his body and slipped out the room, double checking that May hadn’t stirred at the moment and smiling when she hadn’t moved a muscle. She’d been working so hard for the homeless shelter project, she needed the rest and it was no wonder that she was completely out of it.

The voices became louder as he entered the hallway and once the sleep paralysis had subsided, it became clear that the voices were coming from Peter’s bedroom. The door was almost closed, but a small gap remained where a slither of golden light escaped through the crack, allowing the low murmurs to filter through.

Paul was able to use the toilet without making too much noise and disturbing whatever goings on were occurring inside the room, as the bathroom was just across from May’s quarters. He only took a couple minutes and crept towards the door, peering in whilst being careful not to be seen.

Tony Stark was cradling Peter in his arms. He was holding him close to his chest and positioning the curly head of unruly chestnut hair underneath his chin as if he had done this many times before with a child. They were sat together on Peter’s single bed and the teen was crying. He was busy trying to bury his face in the older man’s burly chest, nuzzling it there and allowing his tears to be lost within the soft cotton. Tony’s arms were wrapped tightly around the boy, coarse fingers gently running through Peter’s hair and he was rocking them slightly from side to side, hushing and whispering tender words of comfort as if he were comforting his own son.

Tony Stark was soothing a child after a nightmare. A sixteen year-old kid with no uncle and no father, but he had Tony. Peter’s fingers curled around his mentor’s pyjama top, hiccups escaping him as he fought to control his heaving sobs, desperately clutching at the man with everything he had.

“T-T-Tony, Tony…” The boy whined, a high-pitched drawl which made him sound several years younger than he was, and the unpleasant sound coursed right through Paul. His heart broke at the pitiful cry.

“Shhh, Tony’s here, buddy…I’m right here, shhh…” The billionaire murmured into the teen’s curls, lips brushing across his hairline as he spoke.

The expression on his face was something the journalist never thought he would see on this man. His features were soft, the liquid of his dark chocolate eyes glazed over with affection and concern for the boy in his arms. There wasn’t any other word for it than love; pure unconditional love. The kind that Paul often saw in parents’ eyes as they gazed at their new-born children.  

(Sarah had desperately wanted children, but she was so busy with work, with helping others live. She’d worked herself to death and Paul could never have the privilege of holding his own child in his arms. It was too late now, time had run away from him as his wife had).

“It w-was him again, it was B-Beck…” Peter sniffled, voice wavering and watery as he struggled to compose himself, arms tightening from where they were wrapped round his mentor’s torso. “H-he made me watch y-you die over and over again, I c-couldn’t save you, I couldn’t save you!” He broke off with another heart-breaking whine of distress, sobs wracking his body once more, but Paul had been watching Tony closely and the man had been prepared for this. He had been regarding the teen softly, brow furrowing harshly when the tears overcame the boy again, pain streaked across both pale faces.

He shushed the boy again, the steady hand that was cradling Peter’s head, gently guiding it from the crook of his neck to his chest. “Listen to that, Pete. You hear it, that strong beat?” He murmured, touching his lips to the top of the boy’s head as Peter’s chest heaved, breath hitched and uneven.

“Y-yeah…”

“You see, kiddo? I’m right here, I’m not gonna leave you, alright? He’s gone, he’s dead. You never have to see him again and I won’t ever let anyone hurt you, I promise,” Tony spoke in a hushed tone, utter devotion to the boy in his arms dripping through every syllable.

Whoever this Beck was, Paul knew for certain that he was scum for hurting this brilliant, selfless kid. This man must have been one of the reasons why Peter had been acting so strange for the past few weeks, but Beck…the name sounded awfully familiar…

Nevertheless, it wasn’t hard to see why Tony cared for the boy so much. Paul suddenly felt guilty for intruding on such a private, intimate moment between the two, but he couldn’t find the will to look away. He was transfixed and flawed by the deep personal connection the duo shared, a relationship built on trust and a clear admiration for each other.

A few minutes passed by as Peter worked on calming himself down and gradually, the sobs reduced to sniffles until only silent tears remained. His eyes were glassy, cheeks tinged red from the salt and his hair was messy, but he somehow seemed refreshed.

“’M sorry I woke you up,” Peter mumbled, making a small effort to navigate himself out of his mentor’s strong arms, but it was futile.

Paul could see the compassion, the endurance in the man’s dark eyes. He was not going to leave that bed tonight. Peter Parker needed him, and no-body was going to stand in Tony Stark’s way.

The billionaire only tightened his hold, bringing the boy close to place a soft kiss on his fore-head. “None of that crap, kid. When are you gonna get it through that stubborn head of yours? I’m here for you whenever you need me, alright? Anytime, anywhere, that’s non-negotiable, pal.”

Peter laughed, weakly at this, snuggling against his mentor and accepting the comfort. It was incredible how physically affectionate Tony was, it was something Paul had never had the privilege to witness through the media. He refused to let go of the teen.

“What…? No, never mind…” Peter mumbled after a few moments of silence apart from the occasional sniffle coming from the teen.

“Ah ah, don’t do that, Pete. Lay it on me, I’m all ears,” Tony immediately retorted, pulling back ever so slightly so he could gently wipe away the boy’s tear tracks with the type of attentiveness and care that only a parent could have.

Peter swallowed, thickly before speaking and the next few words to come out of his mouth would completely flaw the journalist beyond belief. If he had known what the teenager was going to say, the reason for the past few weeks being shrouded in anxiety and discomfort would have become as clear as cut glass.

“What if I get drawn in by someone like him again? I almost got everyone at school killed because I was too…naïve to see who Beck was! How can the world put their trust in Spider-Man when I keep screwing up and putting loads of innocent people in danger?”

Spider-Man. The kid was Spider-Man. The guy who had been at May’s fund raiser to help promote it. Suddenly everything meant perfect sense.

Quinten Beck, or Mysterio, was the crazy bastard who wanted to make a name for himself as a superhero by faking his own alter ego to earn the respect of millions. The truth had come out thanks to Spider-Man, who had been caught in the middle of the situation. There was no doubt that Beck had emotionally manipulated the young, impressionable superhero and Peter’s unnerving bouts of silence and introspection must be a result of the trauma he had experienced at the hands of Mysterio.

All the nights when Peter wasn’t in the apartment. All the secrecy, the disappearances, the hurt. It all made perfect sense. That poor kid…What an amazing, selfless boy only going out of his way to help others and he had suffered emotional abuse at the hands of a criminal who was half the man Peter Parker was going to become.

Tony’s low, yet steady voice pulled the journalist back to reality. “Listen to me, buddy, and really listen…” He framed the boy’s face in his rough palms, looking intensely into his eyes. “Everybody makes mistakes, even me, kid. We’re all human, all of us on the team. Well, apart from a racoon and a couple of alien…things-”

They both sniggered at this.

“The point is, no-body is perfect. We can’t always know whether somebody is legit or not. You weren’t naïve, Pete. That bastard knew exactly what strings to pull to get what he wanted, he emotionally manipulated you for his own gain. Nothing was your fault, alright? You can’t keep on blaming yourself.” His thumbs caressed the boy’s cheekbones, swiping away the few tears that escaped as Peter took his words in.

“B-but, h-how do I move on?” The teen asked, his watery voice and high-pitched tone breaking Paul’s heart. It was such a horrendous question for someone so young to be asking and the way the genius’ eyebrows tightly knitted together for a second spoke volumes on his obvious distress at the question.

Tony was crying.

There was thin slither of tears glistening in his eyes. He sniffed, turning his head to the side for a moment as the boy waited anxiously for his answer. The billionaire appeared to be collecting himself, his jaw tightly locked as he fought to keep his bottom lip from trembling. He turned back to Peter after a few moments, eyes red and glassy, just like the teen’s.

“Sometimes you don’t.” His voice was surprisingly steady considering the fact that he was on the verge of a dam bursting. “Sometimes things stay with you for a long time and you feel like you can never be free of it…but I’m here, honey. I’m right here, and so is May and Ned, the team and even Paul! You’re not going through this alone, I’m here, baby, I’m here…” His voice cracked, he was unable to say anymore…but he didn’t need to.

He pressed a firm kiss to the boy’s fore-head and they collapsed into each other’s arms.

Paul did not linger outside the bedroom door any longer.

…

The next few weeks were busy.

Paul approached Peter and confided in him about the night he found out who Spider-Man really was. It only felt right to tell the boy first before May. It was his business, his life and Peter deserved to know that somebody else knew of his alter ego.

He should have been surprised that Peter took the news well, but he wasn’t, because the kid was humble and mature. They both told May together and eventually Tony and the rest of the Avengers were also informed.

Neither male expressed any distrust or hostility towards Paul for watching their interaction after Peter’s nightmare. The teen was understandably a little mortified at the idea of somebody listening on him crying, but he also stated that he wasn’t surprised the journalist had been outside considering how loud his scream must have been.

Paul couldn’t understand how they could put so much trust in him to ensure Peter’s secret wasn’t exposed but May put in a good word for him. Not that she needed to anyway, because Peter was already certain that his aunt’s boyfriend wouldn’t ‘spill the beans’, as he put it.

Everything was out in the open.

Now that Paul knew, Peter confirmed the man’s theories about the teen’s on and off melancholic mood. He didn’t go into much detail, but Paul didn’t need it seeing as he had heard what he needed to know the other night. Although Peter was working through a lot of issues and had even gotten a therapist to help with this, he appeared slightly less uptight and stressed following Paul’s discovery of his secret identity, because now he could come and go as he pleased as Spider-Man and not be so secretive.

Tony visited every week.

When Peter wasn’t in the apartment, Paul knew that he was either out as Spider-Man, at a therapy session, or visiting the compound where the other Avengers were. The initial shock upon seeing the billionaire in May’s apartment began to gradually ease off as the visits continued. The bond the genius shared with the teen only seemed to grow stronger each time Paul saw them together.

It wasn’t just Tony Stark and Peter Parker’s relationship, it was also Iron Man and Spider-Man’s relationship. The two of them were captured by another news crew when they were busting a bank robbery, their natural chemistry and banter easily filmed by a couple members of the public on their phones. Paul couldn’t help but smirk when he watched their witty personalities and energy burst off the screen, because he knew something that the people of New York didn’t, and he’d seen this endearing relationship first hand.

On that night, when he came over to May’s to pick her up for another date in the city, he was once again stunned by the Spider-Boy and his mentor.

“They came back about an hour ago and just completely passed out!” May whispered, quietly shutting the door behind him.

If Paul had thought the first time he met Stark that he looked casual then, this was bringing it up to a whole new level.

Tony, wearing a baggy dark grey sweater rolled up to the elbows with black slacks and Hulk themed socks, was sprawled out on a double blow up bed on the floor and Peter was sleeping on top of him.

The kid had an old MIT hoody on with Hello Kitty themed bottoms, he was lying vertically across the bed with his head resting on the man’s chest. One arm was draped across the teen’s chest and the other was nestled in the chestnut curls. He had obviously been stroking the kid’s hair for a while and they had fallen asleep in that position, because a couple of locks were folded between his fingers as if he had been twirling them around the digits.

A checked blanket was covering them and both were snoring peacefully. The teen looked five years younger with his mouth hanging open slightly as he slept.

“They’ve been working it hard recently. I reckon we leave ‘em to it, don’t you?” May said, smiling at the expression on his face.

He’d gone soft, but then again, he always was. He was just marginally softer now after meeting this incredible woman, her superpowered nephew and his genius mentor. Or should he say, his genius Dad?

“Yeah,” he chuckled and nodded, before they quietly left the father and his son to their well- deserved rest.

Chapter Text

Ever since Peter Anthony Stark was born, he had become the definition of a Daddy’s boy, plain and simple. Perhaps it was because he shared two of his names with his father, or perhaps it was because his father had been there to take care of him and love him when his mother could not – whatever it was, one thing was for certain, Peter Stark absolutely adored him.

He was always smiling and giggling in delight when his Daddy was in the room. His first word had been ‘Dada’ and his first steps had been to toddle towards his astonished father when the mansion’s A.I notified the billionaire of the new progression occurring in the child’s nursery.

There was nothing Tony Stark could do wrong in Peter’s eyes. At times, he was the only one who saw through the protective layers the genius had built over the years to see the loveable; (for lack of a better word) dorky side to the apparent well put together billionaire and business tycoon.

Tony Stark wasn’t like his father. From the first time he held his new born son in his arms and gazed down in awe at the perfect little face with the tiny upturned nose, fingernails the size of a grain of rice and two beautiful dark chocolate brown eyes (an identical pigment to his own irises), he knew that he would not be Howard. He would not let his child feel neglected, worthless and the symbolism of disappointment as he had been growing up in the spotlight.

The love he had for Peter was indescribable, but those closest to him could see the irreparable bond Tony shared with his child. They were inseparable and so alike, not just in looks, but in their shared curiosity and urge to learn more, to thrive on in their own creative roots. Neither Pepper, Rhodey or Happy would ever deny that Tony was an excellent father. He had changed since Peter had arrived. The drinking and all-nighters were a relic of the past.

Now, Peter was the centre of the billionaire’s world. It hadn’t been easy at first, but the little boy who shared his eyes and his high IQ had wormed his way into the billionaire’s closed heart and Tony knew deep down that he could not live without Peter. One of the best parts about being a father was seeing the pure admiration and adoration in his child’s eyes and it was very clear even from the early days when the young Stark couldn’t even form words, that Peter felt exactly the same.

There was only one problem with this mutual strong connection the father and son shared. Peter had separation anxiety. He was incredibly susceptive to physical affection, which was all his father’s fault because the man couldn’t resist kissing those cute chubby cheeks and mop of curls on a daily basis whenever he cuddled his kid in his arms.

At the age of four, Peter hadn’t changed apart from growing a little taller and expanding his knowledge with the genius mind he had inherited from his father. He was still as adorable as ever and Tony just couldn’t resist the inevitable urge to swing his little one into the air, heart swelling with love as the boy squealed and giggled in infectious delight at the playful action, before bringing him down and planting small kisses all over his little face like there was no tomorrow. This type of hyper scene occurred on a daily basis and it was no wonder that Peter often craved this indulgent affection as he had been raised to expect it.  

Tony had been brought up in a cold household with a detached and distant father. The only affection he received was from his mother and JARVIS, therefore as far as he was concerned he was entitled to ensure his own son knew that he was loved and cherished. Tony had very rarely experienced the tender, intimate moments he shared with his child when he was Peter’s age. He read to Peter, played with him, made him his breakfast, lunch and dinner and did everything with his son that Howard had missed out on.

As aforementioned, the only problem with his parenting style was that Peter couldn’t stand to be parted from him. Tony always dreaded the inevitable business meetings where he was required to be out of Malibu a couple nights at a time, because he knew his kid would be unhappy and there was nothing he could do to sway him.

His son loved Pepper, his Uncle Rhodey and Uncle Happy, but they weren’t his Daddy and no-body would ever be able to live up to the standards that his father had set. Tony never admitted it out loud, but the truth was that he hated being separated from his son too, even if it was easily perceived by Pepper when she witnessed first-hand how jittery and reserved the genius became when he couldn’t be with Peter.

It just so happened that another business meeting was just around the corner yet again. Both he and Pepper were meant to be there, and Rhodes was busy with his duties for the army, so that just left Happy to watch Peter whilst Tony was away for his eleven o’clock slot.

Happy was fond of Peter, but he wasn’t naturally attuned to children’s wants and needs and he often grumbled under his breath when he thought the others couldn’t hear when the little boy would cry or would enter his ‘bratty’ phase. It was very rare for Peter to do this, but it happened, as it did with all four-year olds from time to time.

Tony was keen to keep his boy distracted and entertained for the morning before he would have to leave. He had told Peter about the meeting when he went to wake him up early that morning with a gentle, warm hand stroking his son’s back to rouse him from his slumber and a soft kiss to his curls. The boy was too lethargic to properly take the meaning behind his father’s words in and had mumbled some incoherent words at the mention of the business meeting, before rolling onto his back and snuggling into the man’s sturdy chest, nuzzling his face into the crook of his Daddy’s neck.

Tony huffed a laugh at the gesture, well used to Peter being pretty unresponsive and even more clingy when he first woke up and the billionaire was only too obliged to hold his kiddo close and carry him to the kitchen to make some blueberry pancakes together and forget their worries. Heading down to the lab was the next point on the agenda.

The workshop underneath the main floor of the mansion was their favourite place. It had always been Tony’s main area of expertise, of course, as it allowed him to indulge in his genius ideas and creations and it was where he felt most at home.

As Peter was his little shadow, naturally that meant that the father had had to make a few changes to the lab to ensure it was safe for a baby to be in. The soft foamed area specifically designed for Peter, created by Tony, had been installed soon after his kid begun to display a certain neediness to be with his Daddy nearly twenty-four seven.

Peter didn’t spend all his time in his highly efficient playpen though. That was only reserved for times when his father was working on something dangerous like tasering some loose wires or working with small intricate designs which required tiny bolts and gadgets that were liable for little feet to accidentally tread on. Peter spent many a time in his father’s arms when the man wasn’t working with his hands, sitting in his Daddy’s lap and basking in the warmth and comfort that only a parent could provide.

When his son was a baby, Tony would often sit cross-legged on the floor, cradling the little one in his arms and browsing through online articles and profiles about particular topics and public figures. Peter loved the blue glow that came from the screens that seemed to float in mid-air…

…

…“Da!” The baby chirped, waving one small chubby arm at a photo of an old car model from the 1960s which the billionaire was interested in buying.

“Mhm,” Tony hummed, lifting his son so he was standing on the man’s legs to see the picture better. “What do you think, Pete? A worthy investment?” He asked, resting his chin on the top of the boy’s fuzzy chestnut curls.

Peter didn’t answer with any coherent words, but he babbled enthusiastically whilst waving his little fist, drool trailing down his chin.

The father deciphered that the only reason why his kid was drawn to this 1967 Shelby Cobra model was because it was blue. It was the colour of Peter’s nursery walls, even though this was a royal blue instead of the sky shade his room boasted, but it was smart lick of paint, Tony would give it that.

“A fitting endorsement if I ever saw one,” the billionaire remarked, tilting his chin to place a quick kiss to the top of the boy’s head, before leaning round the small body to wipe away the trail of drool with the sleeve of his long-sleeved Metallica top. The baby squirmed and wriggled but didn’t whimper as he was used to the man fretting over him. “You’re a little dork, you know?” He teased.

Peter’s little face broke into a big slobbery grin at his father’s playful tone and the tickly feeling of the beard which was scratching against the side of his face as the man leaned close to him.

He burst into a fit of giggles, Tony’s favourite sound in the world, which spurred him to grin and snigger at how perfect his little boy really was, nuzzling his face against Peter’s and scattering loads of small kisses all over his baby’s face.

“Yeah, you’re a crazy monkey, aren’t you? Crazy baby,” Tony joked between kisses, heart swelling with warmth when his kid squealed with laughter and wriggled even more.

Peter babbled some other incoherent words, but his delighted laughter was enough. Tony chuckled, warmly, rubbing his face against the little tuft of hair and closing his eyes as he inhaled the sweet smell of the apple scented shampoo he had applied the night before and something that was distinctly Peter.

“Love you, baby,” the father murmured after a few moments once the boy’s infectious giggles had reduced and the gummy smile was all that remained. Peter snuffled and cooed, nuzzling into the man’s warmth and the two remained down in the lab for the rest of the day.

Pepper found them a few hours later in a rather unresponsive state. Tony was splayed out in the playpen, top discarded beside him and Peter was lying on his bare chest.

Both were sleeping soundly, cute little snuffles escaping the baby as he nuzzled into the spot right above his father’s heart and the man’s hand was resting protectively on the child’s back, jaw slackened in his relaxed state but the steady grip on his son never faltering.

Pepper downright cooed at the sight and immediately asked JARVIS to take a photo and a video; smirking when he replied with an almost response that could almost be described as fond (even though it was technically an AI): “I already have, Miss Potts.”

…

Tony loved that picture. He had plenty of photos in a file named ‘Peter Anthony Stark’, where JARVIS had been like his own personal cameraman; always being there to capture the moments, but that photo definitely had to be in the billionaire’s top five that they had collected over the past four years.

Lab time was still special, especially as Peter was big enough now to sit at his own desk and work on drawings or small DIY projects, whilst the genius tinkered a few feet away. It was the perfect way to keep his kid occupied for the morning until Happy arrived.

After devouring the blueberry pancakes, Tony scooped Peter up into his arms, licking his finger and wiping away the syrup which had spilled down the boy’s chin.

“Okay, I know you love your old man’s cooking like a champ, but you wanna try actually getting it in your mouth next time, buddy?” Tony teased, light-heartedly, tickling underneath his kid’s chin, eliciting approving giggles from the little boy as he squirmed uncontrollably in his father’s hold. “You crazy demon child,” the man remarked, indulgently, bouncing the boy on his hip and tickling across his little tummy as he wandered over to the staircase leading down to the lab.  

“Daddy, Daddy, Daddy!” Peter chirped, grinning from ear to ear and practically squealing when he realised where his father was leading them.

“Peter, Peter, Peter!” Tony replied on an instant, chuckling at the bright shine in his son’s doe eyes.

“Daddy, I wanna, I wanna dress up as you! I wanna be you!” He was vibrating with excitement, bouncing a couple of times as he was barely able to contain his enthusiasm.

“Really? You wanna look like Daddy today?” Tony commented in mirth, smirking at his kid as he typed the pass code into the security panel. Peter was currently in his space themed pyjama top and bottoms, but he had his trainers on just in case there were sharp objects on the floor.

“Mhm! Wanna be like you!” Peter expressed, enthusiastically with a serene nod, as if it was the most ordinary, everyday request. It definitely was for the son of Iron Man.

“Alright, kiddo. We’ll muck about down here for a bit and then we’ll get you in your armour,” Tony joked, thinking about the Iron Man styled onesie hanging up in the boy’s wardrobe.

They didn’t do anything too complicated as it was still early, and Peter was still tired, even though one wouldn’t know it by looking at the ecstatic ball of energy, but Tony knew that it wouldn’t be long until he crashed with the way his crazy kid was going on. The genius asked JARVIS to play some soft pop music for background noise and he let Peter sit in his lap as he sat in front of the monitors and messed about on the internet and make notes on his upcoming projects for an hour or two.

It was getting closer to eleven and Tony’s heart sunk as he realised he would have to leave Peter soon, which was made even worse because of how perfect the morning had been up until this point. He wanted to make things as smooth as possible by keeping his son entertained, but it almost seemed to have backfired back onto the man since he would have to ruin the relaxed, peaceful mood he had created.

Tony sighed, deeply, ruffling his son’s curls in the process from where his chin was resting on top of his head. He clicked off the document he had been working on and tilted his head to gaze down at his son, who was fiddling with an Iron Man action figure and one in the shape of an alien, making cute little “pow!” and “bang!” sounds as he made them fight each other.

The man brought his lips down and blew a small raspberry on the spot behind the boy’s ear, provoking him to snort and burst into peals of laughter, leaning against his father’s chest.

“Daddy silly!” He giggled.

Tony chuckled, warmly, hugging his kid close as he nuzzled his hair affectionately. “Oh yeah?”

“Yeah!”

He watched on fondly as Peter played with his fingers where his hand was resting on the boy’s tummy. His hand looked so big on his child’s small body and the innocent curiosity displayed by someone so young was incredibly endearing to the elder.

“You wanna get dressed, buddy?” Tony murmured into his son’s curls after a couple moments of just watching his kid observe his hands like he was seeing them for the first time. It was adorable and Stark never thought that he would describe something like that in his entire life. Stark men didn’t create adorable things; somehow Peter existed.

“I be like you now?” The boy asked, peering up at him with an excited grin on his face, adoration for his father shining in his brown eyes and Tony couldn’t help but feel blessed.

He smiled, indulgently, bending to drop a kiss to his son’s fore-head. “Anytime you want, kiddo,” he chuckled, swinging the boy into the air playfully and blowing another raspberry on his little pudgy belly as the pyjama top rose up from the sudden move and Peter squealed in delight, kicking his legs in his exhilaration.

Before he had his baby, Tony hadn’t been one for physical affection or physical contact at all for that matter. He never liked people handing him things and it was always Happy, Pepper or Rhodes who dealt with the personal one to one contact with investors and journalists. He had become so accustomed to behaving this way that upon the discovery that he had fathered a child, his first reaction was fear. He rarely opened up to anybody and the idea that he suddenly had a tiny human being to care for and raise terrified him.

The incredible thing was that Peter made it easy. He had literally fallen in love. Pepper liked to joke that her boss had become smitten with his kid ever since he first laid eyes on him and Tony didn’t even have the heart to argue. All of it belonged to Peter and he wouldn’t know it yet, but in a few years, Pepper would enter his heart too and he would finally open up fully to someone other than his son.

Until then, Peter would be the sole receiver of Tony’s physical affections. That’s what made the whole leaving predicament so much harder, because Peter relied on him for so much and only Tony knew all the little details about what his son liked and disliked, what he was afraid of, what brought him the greatest joys in life…he could go on and on. Even though it physically pained the genius to hear his child crying for him, he knew that Peter couldn’t live like this forever and they would have to get used to living their own lives as the boy grew older.

Tony carried the little one to his bedroom, heart sinking and stomach churning with dread as he placed the boy on his feet beside his bed and headed over to the wardrobe to grab the Iron Man onesie. He wasn’t ready for the next conversation he had to have with the gleeful little boy currently bouncing on the balls of his feet at the prospect of dressing up like his Daddy and blissfully believing that they were going to be spending the whole day together, but deep down the billionaire knew that it had to be done.

When he turned back around, he couldn’t help the warm smile that graced his features as his amusement caused the laugh lines around his dark eyes to crease and his lips to perk upwards, because Peter had taken the initiative to remove all of his clothes himself.

“You’re a terrific helper, buddy,” Tony chuckled, kneeling down to be at his son’s height so he could ask him to raise one leg to slip the onesie over his body, but he stopped to pull the boy’s underwear back up again. “Sorry, Pete, gotta keep yourself tucked away during the day,” he sniggered.

“Nuh uh! ‘m gonna be naked!” Peter giggled.

“Not gonna happen, pal. We want you to look your best for when Uncle Happy comes, right?” Tony said, pulling the onesie up over his kid’s shoulders and zipping it up. The comment left a bitter, sour taste in his mouth as it cemented the fact that he would be leaving his son in little more than half an hour.

“We goin’ out with Uncie Happy?” Lordy, this was going to be fun…

Tony smoothed the wrinkled fabric down and gently gripped the boy’s arms. “No, bud, you remember what I told you this morning when I woke you up? Your Uncle Happy is coming to spend some time with his favourite nephew whilst Daddy goes for his meeting,” he spoke softly and reassuringly, although it didn’t do him any favours because the moment his words left his lips, the boy’s face immediately scrunched up and his bottom lip trembled.

“No,” Peter whimpered. “Daddy stay with Peter.”

Jesus, the poor kid only now seemed to notice that the man was dressed smartly in one of his expensive suits.

Tony’s heart broke at his kid’s trembling voice and his little plea, as tears formed in his eyes. The father reached up with one hand to cup his child’s soft cheek and catch a fallen tear on his thumb as it fell.

“I’m sorry, baby, I wish I could. You know that I would stay and play with you all day if I didn’t have important work to see to,” the man explained.

“But Auntie Pep can do your work and you stay here?” Peter said, toying on his bottom lip with his pointer finger as his big doe eyes begged the man to stay with him. God, this kid was so damn smart, but he was so damn innocent still.

Despite the gloominess of the situation, Tony couldn’t help but chuckle at his kid’s optimism. “It’s not that simple, honey. Pepper isn’t the head of the company, so there are some things that she can’t do, but guess who can?”

“You,” the little boy mumbled, reaching up to rub at his nose as he sniffled.

The billionaire smiled, sadly, rubbing his hands up and down his son’s arms in what he hoped would be a comforting gesture. “Exactly, buddy, good job. If I don’t show up, then I would get a big telling off and you wouldn’t want that to happen to Daddy, right?”

“No…”

Tony couldn’t stand the completely dejected look on his kid’s usually beaming face; it felt like his insides were being ripped apart. “C’mon, Petey, lemme see that billion-dollar smile,” he coaxed, tickling the boy’s ribs and under his arm pits, two sensitive areas which never failed to get the little one giggling hysterically.

Peter only fidgeted a bit at the move, a stubborn pout protruding on his lips and he crossed his arms to effectively stop his father’s tickling and the elder had no choice but to take his hands away and raise an eyebrow at his kid’s attitude.

“If you can’t stay with me, then Daddy take Peter with!” The boy suddenly announced, tone completely deadpan and leaving no room for argument.

It was quite the statement from a four year-old child, but it amused the father because his kid sounded so much like him. He was just as stubborn and enthusiastic once he got an idea in his head and Peter clearly thought that he had just come up with a brilliant idea, judging by the satisfied glint in his eye, refusing to back down.

“I don’t know about that, buddy.” He couldn’t stop the huge smirk tugging at the corner of his lips, hands gently resting on his son’s hips as he spoke. “A lot of business people don’t like kids, they’re nasty old men who don’t care about anyone, especially little boys like you. You wouldn’t want to sit in a boring room with dudes like that, would you?”

Peter shook his head, his determination not once wavering even if the idea of scary old people scrutinising him did give the child some sense of anxiety. He didn’t care, he only wanted to be with his Daddy.

“I be with Daddy, bad guys don’ matter,” he stated. His fierce attempt at a serious expression was adorable, if not slightly worrying to the concerned father.

Tony caught his bottom lip between his teeth, eyebrows narrowing as he studied his kid for a moment in pure disbelief. He wasn’t usually left speechless by anybody and always managed to have the last word, but he was pretty much flawed. His four year-old had stunned him, but he supposed it wasn’t the first time Peter had done this, the little bugger had made him incredibly soft and Tony knew it.

He sighed through his nose, leaning forward to scoop the boy up into his arms, staring into his child’s eyes in admiration at his valiant efforts. He supported his son’s lower half with one arm as he playfully bopped his kid’s nose with the other hand, causing it to scrunch up as Peter giggled at the gesture.

“You’re incredible, Pete. Four years old and you’re already leaving your Dad lost for words, what is the world coming to, huh?” Tony spoke, jovially, shaking his head in wonder.

“Love Daddy!” Peter chirped, sweetly.

A soft look crossed the billionaire’s face, paternal love for his child glimmering in his chocolate brown eyes and he leaned forward to rub his nose against the boy’s, giving him an Eskimo kiss. Peter loved these kisses the most and he was in a fit of giggles immediately, squealing with delight at his father’s affections.

“Sir, Mr Hogan has arrived,” JARVIS suddenly announced. Perfect timing.

“Thanks, J,” Tony murmured, pressing a kiss to his son’s fore-head and making his way out of the boy’s room and down to the foyer. He braced the back of his kid’s head, allowing him to cuddle close since it was the least he could do, because he knew that he was in for one hell of a goodbye in a few moments.

Happy was just walking through the front door when father and son arrived, tucking the car keys into his pocket.

“Hey, Hap. Good drive?”

“As good as it can be. How’s the kid?” The driver asked, gaze drifting to the boy in his best friend’s arms. The sight certainly wasn’t anything new for him, especially when his boss had a business meeting.

“Sulking,” Tony smirked, bouncing his kid gently on his hip, who refused to move his face from the crook of the man’s neck.

“He been good his morning?”

“As good as he can be,” Tony retorted with a cheeky wink and a mischievous smirk. “Nah, he’s been great. He’s just a little cutie-pie, aren’t you, pal?” He spoke with a high lift in his voice, bouncing his kid and tickling across the boy’s rib cage, eliciting some high pitched squeals and bombastic laughter as Peter finally removed his face from the man’s neck.

“There he is, there’s my handsome little guy,” Tony beamed, pleased that his son was now smiling brightly. Speaking too soon… “Hey, Pete, Uncle Happy’s here, you wanna say hi?”

“Hey, buddy,” Happy greeted, walking up to the two with a kind smile.

“Hi, Uncie Happy!” Peter waved and reached over to give the driver a hug, Tony taking the opportunity to transfer the boy into the other man’s arms. Happy squeezed the child warmly and caught his friend’s eye, who smiled sadly and reached over to gently stroke his son’s hair.

Tony leaned in to press a quick kiss to the top of his kid’s head, murmuring in his ear, “See you soon, kiddo. Love you.”

He should have just left as soon as he placed Peter in Happy’s arms, because what followed was definitely all on him. He hated leaving his kid just as much as Peter detested it and it probably would have been better if he had just snuck out, so he didn’t have to put them both through the heavy emotions that came with their separation.

The moment the low goodbye left his lips, Peter suddenly burst into tears. His chest heaved dangerously with his heavy sobs and hitching breaths, both arms reaching out for Tony desperately.

“N-no, D-Dada, don’t go!” Peter howled, cries only increasing as he made grabby hands at his Daddy, whose pained expression caused Happy to make the quick decision to transfer the hysterical child back into his father’s arms. His wailing still persisted even when he was as close as he could be to the man.

“Sh, sh, shh, come on, baby, it’s alright. Shhh, it’s okay, I’m right here, Daddy’s here, sweetheart, shh…” Tony hushed, quietly, subconsciously rocking his son and nuzzling his fluffy curls, affectionately, placing delicate kisses across flushed cheeks and temples. The poor kid was bawling, his face bathed in tears and his grip on his father’s suit jacket exceedingly tight for one so small.

Happy watched on worriedly, eyebrows raised in concern at the boy’s complete meltdown. Tony usually managed to leave before things got this ugly, as Happy, Pepper or Rhodes were able to distract the kid with his Legos or some kind of game, so he wouldn’t bring out the waterworks like this. It wasn’t often that Tony got dragged away to these damn business meetings, so he supposed that it was just too much for the kid this time, as it had been a while since the man had been called away and it explained the extreme outburst from Peter.

The kid eventually managed to calm himself, but it took several minutes of Tony cradling him, rocking him and murmuring sweet nothings into the boy’s hair for Peter’s heart-wrenching sobs to reduce in their volume. He was still crying softly into his Daddy’s shoulder, begging for him to stay.

“Alright, screw this,” Tony spoke after a few more minutes, voice hoarse and rough as he stroked the back of his son’s head whilst continuing to bounce him with his other hand. “I’m taking him with and you’re driving.”

“Wait, you’re what?!” Happy exclaimed.

“There’s no fu-freaking way I’m leaving him here. C’mon, buddy, let’s get your toy,” Tony said, leaving no room for argument, as he hefted the boy higher on his hip and headed back towards Peter’s bedroom. Happy was left standing in the hallway, completely flabbergasted.

The billionaire didn’t relinquish his hold on his son as he allowed the boy to reach for his Iron Man figure, but before he could dash back to Happy, Peter’s squeals of protest stopped him.

“What is it, Pete? We’re gonna be late.”

“Want my crayons, Daddy!”

Tony sighed, grabbing the colourful box that was sat on Peter’s dresser and a little notebook, stuffing them in the inside pocket of his suit jacket, before making his way back to the foyer. He didn’t care that he shouldn’t be giving in to his kid’s desires like this; he couldn’t stand listening to those horrible cries and begging anymore, and he figured it would just be easier for everybody if he brought Peter with. He could worry about what the board members would think later.

“Right, let’s go,” Tony ordered, slightly breathless from all the running around, but he was pleased when the driver simply shrugged and followed him to the car. He could always count on Happy to just trust his judgement and go along with whatever he came up with, even if it was ridiculous.

Tony climbed into the back seat, sitting Peter in his lap and pulling the seatbelt over the both of them. He was exhausted, emotionally and physically and he didn’t have the heart to force the kid into his own seat, not after the huge meltdown he had just witnessed. Happy immediately pressed the button to slide the privacy screen up the moment father and son got themselves settled.

Peter appeared pretty content with their seating arrangements, sitting sideways on his father’s lap with his legs stretched out across the next seat and a small smile on his face as he nuzzled it into the man’s sturdy chest. Tony was aware that it wasn’t the safest position for the boy to be in, but he trusted Happy to get them safely to this damn meeting and there was no way the genius was letting his kid leave his arms now after their eventful morning. He felt like he was going to get whiplash soon with all this hot and cold, but he supposed this was what it was like having a little human that took after him.

Tony was drawn out of his thoughts when he felt Peter rummaging inside his suit jacket, fishing out two crayons, one bright red and the other yellow. His other hand was still accommodated with clutching onto his Iron Man figure, which he held close to his chest as if it were the most precious thing in the world.

“What’re you up to, buddy?” Tony asked, fondly, gaze soft as he watched the boy.

“Dwawing,” Peter said and before the man had a chance to decipher what on earth his son was saying, his kid reached up and drew a big red line down his father’s cheek.

Tony should have pulled away, any normal person would if they were expected to look their best at an important business meeting in less than ten minutes. No. The only movement he made was to smile, affectionately, allowing Peter to colour all over his face. God knows what he was mapping out, but Tony simply gave him the freedom to do it.

“We match now, Daddy,” Peter giggled after a few more minutes, giving a little bounce of excitement in his father’s lap as he beamed proudly.

Tony raised an eyebrow at this and took his phone out of his pocket to get the camera up and observe his reflection. Peter had attempted to draw a replica of the Iron Man mask with about as much accuracy and detail a four year-old could muster. It was pretty hilarious considering the fact that if Peter really wanted him to take on his alter ego image, he could have just pressed a button on his StarkWatch and the armour would be there in less than five seconds.

The genius scoffed at his very narcissistic image, but there was no possibility that he was going to spoil his kid’s enjoyment, so he simply cuddled him close and kissed his little nose. “Good boy, you did a great job,” he murmured, resting his fore-head against his son’s and smiling when Peter hummed happily at the praise.

Despite Happy’s excellent driving, they still turned up at the offices about fifteen minutes late into the two hour meeting and Tony gave a little sigh as they pulled up around the back. He secured his hold on his son and climbed out the car, giving his friend an appreciative pat on the shoulder, before dashing into the reception area.

The female receptionist gave him a strange, yet slightly bemused look, but he wasn’t surprised considering the current state of the normally well presented Tony Stark and his young son who was usually kept out of the public eye. A small smile quirked at the corner of her lips as her gaze trailed over the drawing on his face, but she politely chose not to comment on it and sign them in.

Tony took the lift to the top floor, tapping his foot impatiently as he watched the number dial slowly increase.

“Daddy?”

“Hm?”

“Will you still be in twouble?” Peter asked, blinking up at him with wide curious, innocent eyes. “Late?”

“Naahh, I’ve got my armour on. Nothing can get through that, you’re keeping me safe, kiddo,” Tony chuckled, brushing some hair back from his son’s fore-head, who grinned at the comment.

As soon as the doors binged open, the billionaire was off like a shot towards the correct room, not even pausing to knock and instead opting to head straight in. The door banged against the wall as it was slammed open and every head in the room whipped towards the source of the sudden loud noise, many jumping upright in their seats.

“Sorry I’m late. Peter was a nightmare this morning,” Tony said, walking over to the nearest free seat, which happened to be right next to Rhodes.

Everyone was too stunned to speak at the baffling sight of their boss with crayon all over his face and his child dressed in what appeared to be Iron Man pyjamas, clutching an Iron Man figure in his hand as he played with it quietly and ignored the onlookers.

Tony collapsed in the chair, sitting Peter on the table so that he was facing him, and he could give his arms a rest. He didn’t even need to look in his best friend’s direction to know that he was currently on the receiving end of one hell of a perplexed stare.

“Don’t even ask,” was all the exhausted genius could muster, only glancing at him in the corner of his eye.

“Tony…” Pepper, who was standing at the front and had been leading the presentation, sighed vehemently, bracing the side of her face with her hand in despair.

It would be many years later when those closest to Peter would look back on that bizarre turn of events fondly and they would always view the day that Tony Stark decided to take his clingy son to a business meeting as one of the best examples of the billionaire being a great parent. Tony liked to secretly agree.

Chapter Text

It all started like any other ordinary day. Well, any normal day following the event which snapped half the universe out of existence and the one five years later when everybody suddenly appeared back where they were, thanks to the heroic actions of ‘Earth’s Mightiest Heroes’.

The whole world had taken some time to adjust back into this peculiar life they now found themselves living and for Peter Parker, things were just as strange and confusing as it was for everyone, possibly even more considering that he also had a superhero alter ego to hide from prying eyes. Spider-Man was almost like a full time job now. There was a lot more local crime to keep on top of because many of the victims of the Blip, like himself, snapped back into existence five years later and realised that their homes were no longer theirs because new families had moved in and many unfortunate families and young people had been left homeless. For those who did not have the fortune to find new permanent accommodation, looting and robbing banks and jewellery stores and rich homes, was many Queens’ residents way of expressing their anger at the injustice of the situation.

Peter was working hard after school and even before to ensure the citizens of his beloved city were safe and protected. Ever since his trip into space and the terrible repercussions of the Avengers losing against their battle with Thanos, only to finally have the last victory and bring everybody, including himself, back to reality, Peter had matured and grown. He had to. He was still a sixteen year-old kid from Queens with an Aunt and a mentor in his idol, Tony Stark, and he still lacked strong decision making, but his adventures in space had changed him.

Peter was beginning to shape up as a true Avenger. He was becoming more involved with ‘real’ Avengers business and many in the group recognised his incredible intelligence and strong character as a valuable asset to the team, just as Tony had a couple of years before everything changed. Peter took his responsibilities very seriously and that often meant that schoolwork became a second priority, much to the disapproval of May. He understood the concern from his Aunt, because she was like a mother to him and was always watching over him to ensure he was keeping up with his everyday activities.

Tony, he was different, or so Peter thought. He was Iron Man and he was responsible for the teen becoming involved with the Avengers, with official superhero business and as far as Peter was concerned, he wanted to make every effort to ensure he lived up to Tony’s expectations and prove that he could be just as responsible as the rest. His mentor had so much faith in him and their relationship had become so much more than a simple teacher/student one, with Peter looking up to the man like a son would a father and the billionaire obviously had fond, affectionate feelings towards the kid too.

Everything had changed for the better ever since their reunion back on the battlefield, where Tony, so overwhelmed with emotion to see Peter again after five years of grieving, had stumbled forward to engulf the bumbling boy in a warm embrace. Their first proper hug was perfect. It just felt right, and the feeling of his mentor’s strong arms wrapped around him, almost protectively and too tight as if he was frightened to let him go again, was something that the teen would never forget and it was something that he couldn’t explain, but sometimes it was Tony Stark’s arms that he craved, Tony’s comfort he needed.

Despite this, his mentor had a strange way of acting even more overprotective of the spiderling than even his sweet Aunt could be at times. This is what brings us to the day that started like any other. Peter woke up in the morning, going out on patrol and going to school; doing normal things like shoving burnt toast into his mouth from an unapologetic Aunt who had to rush off for her first shift at the hospital and ignoring Flash’s usual retorts during recess at school, but things would only decline and get progressively worse as the day went on. If Peter had known what was to occur today, he might not have gotten out of bed at all.

It didn’t take a genius like Tony or Peter to recognise that the teenager could be just as stubborn as his mentor. When one of them got a particular idea in their head, it would take a very special argument against it from a special person to convince them to change their mind. Unfortunately, if that person happened to be Tony attempting to sway his crazy Spider-Kid from not doing anything stupid, it was like a battle between those with the strongest wills on the planet. It just so happened that Peter did have one of his ideas in mind. He hadn’t told Tony that he was out patrolling morning and night and because the Baby Monitor protocol was no longer an issue to worry about, he’d been able to do whatever he wanted for the past few weeks since coming back from the Blip.

Until now.

Happy picked him up from behind the main school building, like he always did every Friday afternoon, so Peter could work on repairments to his suit with Tony at Avengers Tower. The teen felt guilty for not telling his mentor about his increased time spent on patrol and he knew that if he didn’t tell him that evening, the shame would have eaten him up inside. He planned to bring it up when they were both working on their suits, just a casual drop into the conversation so (hopefully) things wouldn’t go south. Oh boy, how he royally screwed the pooch…

“Mr Stark?”

“Tony.”

“W-what?” Oh yeah, Tony. Now he’s gonna think you’re reverting back to nervous, jittery fanboy state. Great start, Pete.

“Tony, kid. You better have a pretty excuse up your sleeve for using the formalities again, or am I just that scary to you?” The older man quirked, lifting his head to raise an inquisitive eyebrow at his mentee, a crafty smirk tugging at the corner of his lips as the laugh lines around his dark chocolate eyes crinkled with obvious amusement at the kid’s stutter.

“Oh, sorry, yeah,” Peter laughed, weakly, looking up from his own work and sliding his protective goggles up into his hair. “Guess I’m just so used to it, I just forget sometimes.”

A puff of laughter escaped his mentor who smiled, bemused, shaking his head a little. “You could’ve fooled me, bud.”

“Alright, alright!” Peter rolled his eyes in exasperation. “Well, I wanted to tell you something, but if you’re gonna sass me-“

“Alright, Pete, you don’t need to bite anyone’s head off. I thought that was my job,” Tony joked, grinning broadly and pushing his own goggles up, placing his equipment beside the torso of his suit so he could give the boy his full attention. “Go ahead, I’m all ears, kiddo.” He folded his arms on the desktop and leant forward.

There goes the causal drop into the conversation…

“Okay, um, er-well-“ Stop bumbling, you moron!

Tony was smiling that secret smile he only shared with him and Morgan. The one that was so patient, so understanding and so devoting, it was the type of fondness that only parents could feel for their children and it never failed to make Peter’s insides feel like they were melting yet glowing at the same time. The fact that he was on the receiving end of such a rare form of affection from his idol, his father figure, was crazy and incredible.

Tony didn’t have to say anything, his undeniable, endless support for his protegee was always there in every gesture, every kind expression and it was enough to encourage the anxiety induced teen to continue. Even if it did mean that he could possibly be facing the same man’s disapproval in a few moments, but he really hoped that Tony would back him on this one. Tony was Iron Man, so he had to understand…right?

“It’s not a big deal or anything, I just wanted to let you know that I’ve been doing more patrols than usual, so instead of just doing every few days after school, I’ve been trying to go out every morning before school and after too.”

His words just spilled out without any real thought or structure and he tried not to let the slight frown on his mentor’s face and distinct drop in mood to stop him, even if his Spidey senses were screaming at him to shut his mouth.

“There’s just been so much crime since…you know…and I’ve gotta protect the people. School stuff just isn’t as important as real people with real lives, who keep on getting robbed and abused and no-body is doing anything about it! You understand, right?” Peter asked, almost desperately, wide eyed gaze boring into his mentor’s as he surveyed his stoic expression carefully, begging the man to agree.

Tony just looked concerned. He wasn’t nodding or smiling anymore, the skin on his fore-head crinkling slightly as his frown deepened and a soft sight escaped him, shoulders falling as if the air had been knocked out of him.

Peter had seen this look before, plenty of times. It was the one reserved for when he had messed up, but Tony was still there to listen and teach, as he always was. Peter didn’t think he’d done anything wrong this time though. This almost felt like the ferry incident all over again, only it was worse now because Tony wasn’t even shouting at him. He just looked sad, disappointed even. May had looked at him in this way plenty of times too. It was strange that the same expression could be seen in different people.

“Kid…” Tony began, pinching the bridge of his nose between his fingers and sighing, softly. “Does May know what you’re up to? Have you told her why you’re sneaking out your flat early every morning and probably not coming back until late that night? I’m assuming that’s what you’re doing, right?”

“I don’t sneak out, Tony,” Peter retorted, taken aback by the man’s sudden change of tone and he shifted his weight from foot to foot, nervously, jittery under his mentor’s stern gaze. “She thinks that I’m going to Ned’s house to do some extra studying for finals, but I find time to do that on weekends and I’ve pulled a few all nighters before. It’s no biggie, she would just freak out if she knew and I don’t want to do that to her, not after everything that’s happened. You think I’m doing good, aren’t I? Is helping people a crime?” The last came out in somewhat of a rush as he couldn’t stand the tension soaked tone of their conversation any longer.

“No, Pete, of course not,” Tony immediately responded, approaching the boy’s workbench, fingers casually skimming the cool surface of his own as he walked. “You know May, the team and I are so proud of you. You’ve come so far since I first met you, Underoos…”

He smirked, a flicker of nostalgia rippling across his features and the sparkle of fondness had returned to his dark eyes once again as he recalled that rather humorous first interaction with the kid in his living room apartment. That seemed like such a long time ago now. They’d been through a lifetime’s worth of pain, grief, ecstasy and peace in that past couple years.

“…but, in saying that, you shouldn’t be seeing school as something you can just work on when you want to, or when it best suits you, buddy. Listen, you’re the smartest kid in this damn city, we all know that, and you’ll ace your classes, but that doesn’t mean that you should get too ahead of yourself. Spider-Man should always come second to your schoolwork; Peter Parker is more important, you get me?”

Peter blinked, wetting his lips after a moment of letting his mentor’s words sink in, but he was mildly irritated because the older man didn’t seem to be listening to his point of view clearly. It was as if he just heard that Peter was skipping homework and after school classes just because he could swing about the city and muck about, helping a few people here and there, but that wasn’t the case at all.

“Yeah, I understand, I really do, but isn’t Spider-Man just as important than school? Especially now with everything that’s going on. The people need someone to watch out for them and I can be that person, it just makes sense because I’ve always been the ‘Friendly Neighbourhood Spider-Man’, right? You taught me that, Tony,” Peter argued, passionately.

“Kid,” Tony sighed, harshly. “You’re intentions are good, they’re so good, like they always are, but you’re abusing May’s trust and you’re falling behind on school. You can’t keep going behind her back and doing what you want, it’s-“

“It’s what?” Peter cut in, tone sharp as a knife edge. “Dangerous?”

“Pete-“

“Yeah, I know, Tony, of course I know. And I know that I shouldn’t be lying to May, but it’ll only hurt her if I let her in on what I’m really doing, and I’ve just said that I can’t do that. When I do tell her, she’ll understand that what I’m doing is for the best and it’s just right. I thought you, of all people, would get that!”

Things were getting heated very quickly and Peter wasn’t even entirely sure why he was getting so frustrated and raising his voice to the man who had done nothing but be kind to him and listen patiently to him ever since he’d walked into the lab.

Tony knew. He knew Peter had that stubborn streak in him just as he had, and, in the kid’s eyes, there was nothing that was going to stop him from following through with his crazy logic.

“I need to do this, Tony, I have to,” Peter reiterated when his mentor was yet to respond to his outburst.

“I can’t let you do this, Peter,” Tony spoke, softly. It was too calm and composed compared to the heat and intensity bubbling through the teen’s angst-ridden body and his mentor’s carefully spoken words only seemed to fuel the fire.

“You can’t tell me what to do, you’re not my Dad and you’ll never be Ben!” Peter suddenly yelled, flinching at the own hatred in his hurtful words even as they spewed from his mouth and, remarkably, the man who was more than a father to him in every sense of the word, didn’t.

Tony’s jaw tightened for a split second, eyes clearly betraying the raw pain from the meaning behind the kid’s outburst and his throat clicked as he swallowed, thickly. Peter hadn’t meant what he said, at all, and the tears suddenly burned his eyes as roughly wiped at his eyes. He shouldn’t be crying, he was supposed to be proving that he was mature enough to make his own decisions, but all he was really doing was causing those he loved pain. He loved Tony so freaking much and after everything his mentor had done for him, this was how he repaid him?

A choked sob escaped the boy’s lips and he staggered backwards a couple steps, almost toppling over the wheelie chair behind him, but that was the least of his concerns. He was so freaking tired, and he couldn’t face the pure shock and sorrow on his mentor’s, his Dad’s face, anymore…so he ran. He bolted out of the lab, down the stairs and out of the Tower as fast as his legs could carry him, his hateful words ringing in his ears and the stunned image of Tony burned into his brain, seared into his memory just like the night he lost his Uncle.

Tony was still here, but he didn’t deserve him. After the way he had just acted, Peter wouldn’t have been surprised if his mentor would never want to have anything to do with him again. He’d only been trying to help Peter, speak to him calmly and just try and talk some sense into him, but Peter refused to listen, refused to really hear him.

The teen got some odd looks as he ran, tears still streaming down his face as he replayed the conversation in his head over and over again, but he ignored them. He only had one destination in mind: Ned’s house. He couldn’t face May now and he certainly couldn’t face Tony. He would much rather face his best friend’s scrutiny and disapproval than his two parental figures…

…

Back at the Tower, it only took a couple minutes after Peter’s sudden, abrupt departure for Tony to snap out of his shock and, even then, he didn’t make an attempt to do anything other than to heavily collapse in the chair the kid had almost tripped over.

He knew Peter had not really meant what he’d said, their relationship had come too far to let heated words break them apart and God, Tony would never let that kid out of his sight again. He also knew that his fatherly affections and unconditional love for the boy weren’t just a one-sided affair and even though he never wanted to replace Peter’s biological father or his Uncle, no-body could deny that there was something more than a simple mentor/student relationship there.

He loved the kid so fucking much that it hurt sometimes, like now. It was the same kind of unadulterated love he had for his little girl, something that was impenetrable and indescribable, and nothing could come between him and his Spider-Baby.

After Thanos, all he had wanted to do was keep his kids and Pepper close, but that could only go so far with a superpowered, stubborn teenager who was too selfless to look after his own mental wellbeing, preferring to dive headfirst into helping people instead of himself. Of course, it was May who had the final word on what was good for Peter, she had practically raised him, and she knew him better than anyone, but she couldn’t help the teen if he didn’t let her in. Tony doubted that Peter knew just how strong his Aunt was and if only he just spoke to her about his desire to be Spider-Man more, then things wouldn’t be so messed up now.

Peter was a great kid, but he could be pretty misguided at times and all Tony wanted to do was protect his son at all costs and keep him safe. Every time he looked at him, he was reminded just how young the kid was. He was only ten years older than Morgan, give or take if you didn’t think about the logistics of Thanos’ influence, but he was still so young and innocent, a child that needed to be cared for.

Even though Peter had just exploded on him, he didn’t blame the poor kid. After everything he had been through, there was no telling when his PTSD was going to overwhelm him and cause him to lash out. Tony didn’t care, he loved the kid and he’d been through his own fair share of trauma since becoming a superhero and he wasn’t going to see Peter any differently than the kind, thoughtful, brilliant genius he was.

The billionaire sat for around twenty minutes musing on his thoughts and he only came back to himself when the smell of burning metal made his nose twitch and he glanced across the desktop to where he had left a couple of wires in the torso of his suit smouldering. FRIDAY had been attempting to alert him to the issue, only for the billionaire to notice it himself and he jumped up to switch everything off, working with expert hands as always.

This was what he was good at, what he had always been good at: fixing broken machinery. Inanimate objects, his own creations. Real people, on the other hand, that was an entirely different ball game, but when it came to his kids he would do whatever it took to make things right again.

With that determined final thought in mind, Tony left the lab. He stopped by his bedroom to grab his leather jacket, checking his StarkPhone for a sign from Peter’s suit, but nothing came up. That meant the teen hadn’t decided to go out as Spider-Man and the genius was relieved that he hadn’t considering the emotional state he had been in when he left, but that also meant that it was going to be harder to track his kid down. He didn’t waste any time in heading out, a determined spring in his step as he walked through the streets of the city. He figured Peter couldn’t have gone too far and he wasn’t going to stop looking until he found the boy.

He never saw that black Ford Focus coming for him before it was too late.

…

Ned helped. He kept Peter distracted and that was all the teen needed right now. They spent a good hour building their Lego Millennium Falcon they had started working on soon after returning from the Blip and it was the perfect escapism that Peter needed, but his anxiety soon begun to get the better of him as time went on.

“Peter, are you okay? You’ve gone really quiet,” Ned observed. He hadn’t judged his friend when he heard about the fight with Mr Stark, claiming that he always had fights with his parents and because Tony was basically like a Dad to Peter, it was a very similar thing. He had assured Peter that if he just gave it some time, things would eventually turn out okay.

“I’m fine, I just don’t know whether to call May just to let her know where I am…” Peter said, the roots of why he was at Ned’s in the first place causing his stomach to churn with guilt and a glum expression to cross his usually bright youthful features.

“Well, it’s eight now, so her shift is finished now, right?”

“Yeah, she finished about half an hour ago. What should I do, Ned? I can’t tell her about it, about the fight, it’s too much.” He was getting upset again and he roughly wiped at his face, angry about his lack of control over his emotions anymore.

“I think you should call her. You don’t have to tell her about that, just say that Mr Stark had something important to do and you decided to come to mine so he could get on with his work,” Ned reasoned.

As the teen pondered on this, the two jumped in surprise when Peter’s phone suddenly sprung to life with his funny ring tone and May’s caller ID brightening up the cracked screen. Peter’s eyes flickered up to Ned’s, who nodded in a way that said ‘you’d better answer that or you’ll be in trouble’ before standing and leaving the room to give him some privacy. Peter forgot to breathe for a second and he released the breath he didn’t realise he had been holding with a deep exhale, before reaching forward and taking his phone from where it had been lying on the grey carpet.

He cleared his throat and swallowed, thickly, before answering with a croaky, “Hello.”

“Peter!” May gasped. She sounded out of breath, as if she were panicking and the sound of her nephew’s voice was tethering her to the Earth. Peter’s heart skipped a beat at the high pitched sound of her usually sweet, calm voice. “Oh, thank God! Are you okay? Where are you, baby?” She asked, sounding relieved?

“May? What’s going on? Why-“

“Where are you, Peter?!” She demanded.

“Ned’s, I’m at Ned’s,” he quickly answered, confusion causing his brow to furrow. “Why? Is everything okay, are you alright?” Her tone was starting to scare him.

“It’s Tony, there’s been an accident. It’s on the news right now.”

Tony. Accident. Tony. Dad. Accident. Accident.

He couldn’t breathe. He was dying.

“Peter, honey, take a deep breath for me, calm down, baby-“

He couldn’t breathe, he couldn’t-his chest was too tight-he was choking-

“Peter, Peter!”

Ned.

“Peter! C’mon, man, you’ve gotta snap out of it!”

Strong, firm hands were grasping his shoulders. They were shaking him. He was choking on breaths, heaving and gasping like a drowning man. The phone had dropped out of his hand.

Tony. Tony. Tony. Tony.

“Peter! It’s gonna be okay, just follow my breathing,” Ned spoke, reassuringly, exaggerating his breathing for his friend to copy and almost sighing in relief when the other boy finally begun to calm down.

It was a pretty terrifying sight to see his best friend having a panic attack and one as an intense as this was just crazy. Whatever May was calling about, it must be really bad to set Peter off like this.

“Tony, Tony-“ Peter whined, voice slurring and high pitched as his breathing barely began to regulate again, chest heaving with the force of the heavy sobs that were threatening to overtake him.

“Do you need Mr Stark? I can call him if-“

“No!” Peter shrieked, writhing in his friend’s hold like a madman and this was seriously scaring the poor teen, who had never seen Peter act this way before. “Can’t, can’t-“

“Can’t? What do you-“ Ned started, but then realised that May was still on the phone and he could hear her demanding to know what was going on, her concern for her nephew bleeding through her tone. He grabbed Peter’s phone and brought it to his ear, rubbing his free hand up and down his friend’s shoulder to hopefully help to comfort him. “May? What’s going on? Peter’s really upset.”

“Tony’s been involved in a hit and run accident, he’s being taken to the hospital right now and there’s been no word on what exactly his injuries are, but all we know is that he’s unresponsive,” May spoke, gravelly.

“Oh my God,” Ned gasped, unable to fully absorb the fact that Iron Man, The Iron Man, had been in a possible fatal car crash. It was such an ordinary, everyday occurrence and it almost didn’t sound right for someone as heroic as The Tony Stark to be victim to.

“Hand me back to Peter, Ned, I need to get him to talk to me. You know how he gets if he doesn’t talk.”

Ned did as she asked, watching his friend wearily and taking in the pale face, red eyes and trembling frame with a sorrowful expression.

“Sweetheart, are you with me?”

Peter swallowed, thickly, wetting his lips and shivering uncontrollably all over. “Yeah, yeah, I’m here.”

“Okay. I’m going to come and pick you up and then we can decide what to do from there, alright?” Her tone was so soothing and gentle that it almost made the teen burst into tears right there.

No. He had to keep his shit together now. He had to see Tony. He needed to.

“Okay.” His mouth was so dry.

…

Peter sat with Ned’s arm wrapped around him until May arrived and when she did, her first act was to engulf the teen in a tight, warm hug.

“I have to see him,” Peter spoke from where his face was buried in her strawberry scented hair.

“Yes, of course we will, baby. We’ll do everything we can to see him, but you know that because we’re not his relatives, it may take a bit more time.”

“Oh my God, Pepper and Morgan…” Peter gasped. “They should have heard by now.”

“We might have to give them time, honey,” May spoke, delicately. Of course, she knew the father/son relationship Peter had formed with Tony and it warmed her heart whenever she saw them interacting, but he still technically wasn’t a member of the man’s immediate family, no matter how much Tony had obviously begun to view Peter as the son he never had.

“Pepper will tell me, she’ll keep us updated. I know she will,” Peter said, leaning into her touch when she gently brushed some curls away from his face.

“Alright. We’ll go and see what we can do.”

They left Ned’s with a parting hug from the teen, before taking the bus on route to the hospital. Peter kept the news open on his phone for the whole journey, refreshing it constantly to see whether there was any change. His heart had only felt this heavy once before when he lost Ben and he couldn’t lose Tony too, he just couldn’t.

As expected, they weren’t immediately allowed in to see Tony and only knew that he was ‘in the best care’ in the intensive care unit, but the most important thing was that he was still alive. It was okay, though, because Pepper and Morgan were already there, and they had heard May demanding the receptionist to allow Peter through just for a few minutes; she burst through the double doors and wrapped her arms around the teen instantly.

“Miss Potts,” Peter sobbed, collapsing into her protective hold and relishing in the comfort. His mind was racing, and he could barely breathe, but he could smell her perfume and it reminded him of how he could always smell Tony’s cologne when the man hugged him, and it almost made him break down right there.

“Pepper, honey, Miss Potts is way too formal and it's Mrs Stark now,” she reminded, with a kind, understanding smile. “It’s okay, Peter, he’s alive. He’s going to be fine, he’s been through much worse shit than this and we’re not going to let him go anywhere, right?” She reassured, voice warm as she rubbed his back and pulled back to cup his face, wiping the tears from his cheeks. “Morg’s in there with Happy now, let’s go see them, okay?”

“I’ll wait for you in the waiting room, honey. There’ll be a restriction on the amount of people allowed to visit, won’t there?” She looked to Pepper who nodded in confirmation with a sad smile.

Peter didn’t want her to go, but he knew that it was the only way he’d get to see Tony, so he gave in and let her hug him goodbye, before Pepper’s arm was around his shoulders once more.

“What’s wrong with him?” Peter asked, quietly, voice croaky and dry as he allowed himself to be led to the room his mentor was being treated in.

“He’s in a coma, he was knocked unconscious by a driver who the police are tracking down now as we speak. He’s got a pretty bad injury to his head from when he fell from the force of the hit and a few broken bones, but the doctors say that it’s his head they are more concerned with now.”

“Is he still breathing?”

“Yes, which is a very good sign, as most coma patients need a machine to help them breathe, but we don’t know when he’ll wake up...” Her voice wavered slightly, and Peter could feel a lump in his throat as they both attempted to gather control of their intensive emotions together.

“But we’ll be here with him, so that’s got to help right? I read that coma patients can sense when their family are there in the room and it really helps when they speak to them and touch them to stimulate their senses,” Peter said, cringing at how he sounded like he was reading from an encyclopaedia, but the watery laugh from Pepper made his insides soar.

“Yeah, you’ve got it, kiddo,” she remarked, fondly, tousling his hair as they approached the room.

“Pepper?” He spoke up before they could enter, voice timid, as he turned to face her.

“Hm?”

“He’s going to okay, right? He has to be okay.”

“We’re going to get him through this. You and me and Morg, we’re going to b e here for him,” Pepper instantly affirmed, squeezing his hand tightly, before leading him into the room.

Although he knew vaguely what to expect, it still shocked Peter to see his strong mentor appear so vulnerable and frail.

Tony was dressed in a light blue hospital gown, a clean bed sheet tucked around his upper torso and his arms placed too strategically beside his body. Tony didn’t sleep on his back, he always slept on his side and even though it was the least of everyone’s worries, Peter felt a spark of worry at the prospect of the man feeling uncomfortable in his current position. There was a bandage carefully wrapped around his head, clearly hiding the worst of the head wound Tony had received from the fall after the car struck him (the very image of this causing Peter’s gag reflexes to react negatively and he had to swallow harshly to stop himself from making a mess on the floor), but a few beads of blood could be seen through the dressing.

Eyes closed, bruised face, pale skin – the only evidence of Tony Stark still being alive was the rhythmic rise and fall of his chest underneath the bed sheet. Tony had once managed to soothe Peter after a nightmare by placing the boy’s head over his heart and asking him to match his breathing with his own. The comfort Peter gained from the steady rise and fall of his mentor’s sturdy chest underneath his ear had been a God send and now it was their nightly routine whenever the teen’s persistent dreams of being snapped out of existence or Tony sacrificing himself to save the universe invaded his thoughts.

Happy, dressed in one of his usual suits, was sat in a visitor’s chair with Morgan cuddled in his lap.

“Hey, kid,” he greeted, warmly, despite the situation and the rare display of affection from the driver made the teen smile. Morgan popped her head up when she heard the man speak and she slipped off his lap to run over to Peter to give him a hug, the spiderling sinking to a crouch to squeeze her tightly.

“Hey, squirt,” he murmured, rubbing her back and leaning back to take in her teary-eyed expression. It broke his heart to see his usually happy, carefree little sister looking like this. “How you holding up?”

“Daddy’s sick and ‘m sad…” She whimpered, twin tears cascading down her flushed cheeks and he gently wiped them away like Tony always did for her and for him when they were upset and needed him. They both needed him now, so badly. He glanced up at Pepper, who smiled and nodded encouragingly, which gave him all the approval he needed to speak.

“He’s gonna be alright, Morg, he’s just in a rough patch now, but it won’t last forever. We need to visit him every day and keep on talking to him. Maybe you can bring your plushie for him, I bet your Daddy would like that a lot.” The Iron Man cuddly toy that had a permanent place in the little girl’s bedroom and had been a source of comfort for both kids after a nightmare if the teen happened to be staying over at the lake house (no matter how much Peter might try to deny it).

Her face scrunched up adorably in confusion. “He’s your Daddy too! We can bring it to him together!”

Peter’s bottom lip trembled, and tears burned at his eyes as a weak smile tugged at the corner of his trembling lips, glancing up at Pepper again whose hand was covering most of her mouth, but her eyes were glistening, and he could clearly see a small, fond smile through her fingers.

“Yeah,” he laughed, wetly, hugging her again to hide his face and allow the tears to fall. “Sounds perfect…”

After a few moments, Peter pulled away to stand and approach the bed after once again glancing at Pepper to double check if he was okay. He perched on the edge of a chair, gaze drifting over his mentor’s still body, as he sniffled and wiped at his wet eyes with the sleeve of his hoody.

He stayed in that position for well over an hour; only eventually allowing May to coax him away after she promised him that they would return first thing in the morning.

…

They came back the next morning and the following morning and the one after that. (The driver had been caught soon after the hit and run and the Tony’s family and friends were safe in the knowledge that the man who did this to him would be locked up for a while).

They just kept coming and Tony never even twitched. He just kept breathing, in and out, up and down. That was brilliant of course, but Peter just wanted to hear his voice, to talk to him so he could tell his mentor how sorry he was for how he had been acting recently. He dreaded the inevitable thought that crept into his mind a few times a day, the old chestnut where he feared that Tony may never wake up again and he would never get to hear Peter’s apology or watch his daughter grow up. Every time the teen felt his mind lingering, he had to shake his head roughly and find something else to occupy himself.

Sometimes, Pepper and Morgan were there and sometimes they weren’t. The Iron Man plushie never left Tony’s bedside, even when the nurses changed the sheets. By the two week mark, Peter told May to stop giving up shifts in the hospital since they needed the money to pay for rent and the bills and the teen was fine spending time with his mentor alone. On that same weekend, Peter brought something with him that he hoped would make some difference to Tony’s silent suffering.

“Hi, Tony. It’s Peter again,” Peter spoke, as he gently closed the door behind him and sat in the visitor’s chair. “I really hope you don’t hate me when you wake up, but I wouldn’t blame you if you did. I’ve been such a jerk and you’ve done so much for me. I really miss you, Tony…” Peter trailed off, voice breaking and straining as tears sprung to his eyes once again and he squeezed his mentor’s cold hand tightly, small, gaspy sobs escaping from the back of his throat.

“I brought you something…” He announced after a few moments and he wiped his wet face with the sleeve of his sweatshirt, before sliding an old iPod out of his pocket, rummaging around in his backpack to grab some headphones. “I…well, Morgan and I, we made you a playlist with some of your favourite tracks to listen to. She wanted to put on the whole Frozen soundtrack, but I had to put my foot down on ‘Do You Wanna Built a Snowman’,” he chuckled, weakly. “It’s got some AC/DC, Black Sabbath, Led Zeppelin, Duran Duran, loads of stuff we listen to in the lab all the time.”

Peter leaned forward to carefully slip the headphones over Tony’s head. The wound from his fall had improved significantly and now it was no longer a bloody injury, fading into a dark purple bruise which was still covered with a thin bandage to keep it clean. Even so, Peter was very slow and calculated with his movements. He leant his elbows on the mattress right next to Tony’s arm and pressed shuffle, smiling slightly when ‘Back in Black’ by AC/DC could be heard filtering through the headphones.

Tony didn’t react, as was to be expected, but it still left him feeling a little disappointed. It didn’t mean that they would stop trying though. Never.

…

On day twenty, Tony opened his eyes.

Duran Duran’s ‘Hungry Like the Wolf’ had been playing, one of the songs that played at the billionaire’s last birthday party. Morgan was sat on Peter’s lap, half asleep and Pepper was perched on the edge of the bed, holding her husband’s hand.

She quite literally jumped out of her seat and rushed to get the doctor. It was a huge improvement for Tony’s condition, according to Doctor Brady, although they still had a few more milestones to get through before the genius would display the usual signs of his personality. Tony’s gaze was still unfocused even though his eyes were open, so he still had yet to re-develop his basic senses, but it was a good thing that he had his family by his side to help him get there.

…

On day twenty four, all four of them were visiting, as they always did at the weekends when they were all likely to be free. Nothing was more important than ensuring Tony had at least one visitor a day.

“Hey, squirt, do you wanna tell Daddy what you did today at school?” Peter said, cuddling the little girl on his lap once again and gently bouncing her.

Tony’s eyes were open, but he was staring at the blank wall opposite the bed, unresponsive to Pepper soothingly caressing the skin on the back of his hand.

His eyes were, more often than not, open now when he had visitors and no matter how often Peter saw him like this, it still left him feeling empty and bewildered by the vacant look in his mentor’s usually bright, intelligent irises. It was like the light was on, but no-body was home and it was pretty strange. Not only that, but Peter was really beginning to miss the warmth that came from hearing his mentor’s voice.

“I wrote my name, Daddy!” Morgan announced, her innocent excitement at her personal achievement was infectious to everybody in the room.

“You’re leaving out an important fact, honey,” Pepper added with a knowing smile and glisten of mischief in her eye.

“Oh! I wrote my name and I was the first person in my class to do it!” Morgan amended, grinning brightly, Peter affectionately nuzzling her sweet scented hair from behind. “And Petey did a-a chem-chem-istry test and he got a, err-“

“An A, kiddo,” the boy supplemented.

“Oh yeah! He got that!”

“Yeah, you got some pretty smart kids, Tony,” Peter chuckled, warmly.

The moment was already so cathartic and wholesome, but then Tony suddenly turned his head towards the pair, causing the elder of the two to gasp in shock and the youngest to just continue to grin as if she was expecting him to. There was definitely clear indication in the man’s eyes that he had heard them, some kind of recognition of the sound of their voices.

“Tony…?” Pepper asked, anxiously, leaning forward and cupping his face delicately, a small sob of pure relief escaping her when he turned his attention to her. His expression was slightly confused, but there was also that same blank look that had been there since he first opened his eyes.

Doctor Brady explained that the next steps were likely to be Tony becoming more susceptive to those around him by acknowledging his surroundings consciously and being able to finally begin initiating short conversations with them.

Peter had never felt so impatient in his whole life.

…

On day thirty, Tony was talking.

Peter had gotten used to having Pepper Stark’s caller ID in his phone now after getting over the initial bewilderment within the first few days of his mentor’s treatment at the hospital, so seeing the phone call now was just something that became a normal part of his daily routine. She rang whilst he was on his Friday lunchbreak, ecstatic as she delivered the news that she and Morgan had been able to have an actual conversation with him. It hadn’t been one sided at all.

Pepper explained that they were able to talk about the accident, Morgan and Peter’s schooling and how Pepper was handling the company all in one sitting; Tony had been smiling and even laughing and showing basically all of the signs of his easy-going, defiantly charming personality. She also said that Happy was going to come and pick him up ASAP and that they would give him some privacy if he wanted to have a chat with Tony and even though Peter was dreading the talk, he knew he had to properly apologise to his mentor now that the man could finally speak to him…if he even wanted to after everything…

Peter couldn’t bear to think like that (even though it was always at the back of his mind), so he told the school receptionist about the new update, who was sympathetic to his situation and gave him formal permission to leave. Happy was actually smiling when he got in the car and he even didn’t seem to mind letting Peter talk his ear off about anything and everything for the drive to the hospital.

There was one question burning at the kid’s mind and it was quite the shock for the driver when it was suddenly blurted out when they pulled into parking. “Happy…? What if…what if Tony hates me now? What if he never forgives me after the way I acted?”

“Kid…” Happy sighed, fondly, the smile not leaving his face as he shook his head in obvious dispute at the very notion of the boy’s question. “There’s no freaking way Tony could ever hate you. You know, whatever you may think, Tony’s not perfect and he’s made tons of mistakes too. You know what got him to become a superhero, right? Well you’re young, Pete, you’re going to make loads of mistakes and he’s never going to blame you for that, alright?” He glanced over at the kid with a warm, reassuring look in his brown eyes.

“He won’t hate you, kid. I’ve known Tony for years now and I know when he cares about someone a lot, too much to let some stupid argument get in the way and you’re one of them, Pete. You’re one of those people.”

Peter couldn’t stop the smile from creeping onto his face as he reflected on Happy’s statement, his insides feeling warm and full once again as he thought about how much he and Tony had been through and how much he loved him. He couldn’t wait to see him. He was met with two warm hugs from Pepper and Morgan when he reached the room he had become so accustomed to visiting now that it was almost like going to school or to the shops.

They were both beaming, grinning from ear to ear. Pepper had to hold onto Morgan to stop her from racing in to her father, explaining that they had been in there for well over a couple hours and Pepper wanted to ensure that Peter could have his privacy, something the teen greatly appreciated.

“Are you sure? I don’t wanna impose, I mean, you know…he’s your husband and Morgan’s Dad and I don’t really have-“ He babbled with no rhyme or reason.

“Okay, stop right there, Peter. You’re Tony’s kid and that means you’re a part of this family. You have every right to be here and Tony wants to see you desperately. He said your name only a couple of minutes after waking up, so that should tell you something,” she said with a short laugh and a shake of her head at the kid’s selflessness. It was easy to see why Tony had become completely smitten with him.

“Oh, okay…Cool.” Peter smiled, nervously.

“We left him a little while ago, so he could rest his eyes, but he won’t be in a deep sleep. You know how he is.”

Yeah, Peter did. He’d always been a light sleeper, but after staying over at the Tower or the Compound, he knew that his mentor was a light sleeper because he always seemed to be there when Peter had another one of his typical nightmares and he always stayed with the teen until he fell asleep again. Sleep didn’t seem to be a top priority for the billionaire and Peter always relished the comfort of his father figure gently combing his calloused fingers through his hair and humming lowly to lull him back to sleep.

Swallowing thickly, Peter finally entered the same room he had walked into nearly every day for the past four weeks. He quietly shut the door behind him, gaze never leaving Tony’s still, dozing form as he approached the bedside. He sat down in the same visitor’s chair as always, nibbling on his bottom lip as he suddenly felt an overwhelming urge to burst into tears. He didn’t have a clue what was wrong with him, Tony was better now and should be leaving the hospital soon, so why was he so emotional suddenly?

Peter knew, of course, but he didn’t want to acknowledge it. His guilt for the harsh words he had left with Tony a few weeks ago was still festering inside him and the idea of finally being able to face his guilt was terrifying and it caused his chest to ache with dread and sorrow. He hadn’t told Pepper or May about their fight and it had been eating at him every time he came to visit. His whole torso seemed to be clenching and unclenching and he hated how sick he felt. Tony had every right to have at least some kind of bad feelings towards him, so he should really be sucking it up and finally be ready to face the music.

Peter released the breath he didn’t realise he had been holding and leaned forward to gently shake the older man’s board shoulder. “T-Tony? It’s me…Peter…”

He waited anxiously as Tony’s brow scrunched up, his head slightly moving to the side as he slowly woke from his slumber, until, finally…finally, his chocolate brown eyes, tired but full of life, opened. When his mentor’s warm gaze focused on him, he couldn’t contain the small sob that was caught in his throat any longer and tears burned at his eyes soon after.

“Hey, kiddo,” Tony spoke, his voice just as calming and charismatic as it always was. Peter felt stupid for expecting him to sound croaky, because of course he wouldn’t if he had been speaking with his family perfectly normally before.

He was smiling, too, smiling at Peter. After all that shouting and acting like a brat, Tony was still smiling that special smile. The one only he and Morgan got to see. It was enough to break the dam and the floodgates opened.

“I-I…T-Tony, Tony…” Harsh, heavy sobs overcame him, his whole frame shuddering and quaking from the force of them. Tears blurred his vision and streamed down his cheeks and he was unable to see the way his mentor’s face immediately tensed in concern for the boy, the unbridled love for his kid never leaving his expression, even as he sat up and reached forward to comfort him.

Coarse hands cupped his hot cheeks, reaching up to tenderly stroke some fallen curls out of his eyes and the fatherly gesture only made him sob harder. He didn’t deserve this, he didn’t deserve Tony’s affections. “I-I’m sorry, I’m s-so s-s-orry, Tony…” He cried, nevertheless leaning into the warm touch as Tony swiped his thumbs across his cheeks to clean some of the tears away.

“Get in here, buddy, c’mon. I’ve been waiting a whole month to hold my kid again and if I have to drag you off that chair, then so be it,” the man said, holding his arms out and coaxing the teen closer with his fingers.

“B-b-but, I’ll h-hurt you!” Peter sobbed and if that wasn’t enough for Tony to want to crush his kid to his chest and never let go, nothing would.

“You won’t. C’mon, baby, it’s alright, just trust me.” The term slipped from his mouth, but it had the desired effect because seconds later, the kid was bridging the distance between them and flinging himself into the man’s arms. The desperate sobs became slightly muffled as the boy buried his face in the man’s sturdy chest, fingers clutching the hospital gown in a white-knuckled grip.

“Shhh, it’s okay, everything’s alright now, Pete. You’re safe, I’m right here and I’m not gonna let you go…Just breathe for me, buddy, breathe…” Tony soothed, holding his boy in a warm cocoon, his arms wrapped securely around his precious bundle as he gently rocked them the best he could from being half sat up. He ran his fingers through the baby soft curls he was so fond of, untangling small knots and pressing his lips to his kid’s fore-head. He hadn’t kissed Peter before and it was long overdue. This kid was his and nothing would ever change that.

“D-Dad, Dad…” The kid whimpered, nuzzling his face impossibly closer into the man’s chest.

Tony froze. His breath caught in his throat, chest aching with so much love for his Spider-Baby. Tears welled in his eyes as that one word was causing his own confident exterior to crumble, but he had to hold it together, for Peter. Peter needed him. He licked his lips as he gently hushed the boy again, holding him tighter and placing a delicate kiss to his temple, then one to his fore-head.

“I’m right here, Dad’s here, honey…” He murmured, leaning his head against Peter’s, twirling a curl around his fingers and doing it again once the strands fell back to his scalp, marvelling in the texture. It was freshly washed, Tony could smell one of his favourite scent’s in the world after his aftershave, Pepper’s perfume and Morgan’s strawberry shampoo: Peter’s apple scented shampoo.

“’M sorry…’m sorry for what I said…I didn’t mean it, I swear I didn’t mean it….” The kid mumbled after a few minutes, breath still hitching irregularly as he resurfaced from where his face had been snuggled into Tony’s chest, so he could look the man in the eye.

Tony regarded him softly, hand cupping the back of his head and thumb swiping away an escaped tear from his damp, sticky cheeks. “I know, buddy, it’s alright, you don’t have to explain anything,” he spoke, reassuringly. “Listen, Pete, the last thing I ever wanted to do was to try and replace your uncle, no-body could ever be what he was to you and-“

“No!” Peter exclaimed, causing the man to startle at the sudden noise. “I was wrong to say that, I’m sorry.”

He glanced down, sniffling every so often, unsure whether he could really just open himself up to Tony like this, but what was stopping him seeing as he had already cried his eyes out and accidentally called Tony ‘Dad’ just a few moments ago. What did he have to lose?

“I…I’ve kinda, I mean, well. I’ve seen you, kinda like my Dad now for a while, like even before I came back from…you know…and well, you watch out for me and take care of me like a Dad does. Y-you’ve stayed up with me all night loads of times when I’ve had a nightmare a-and you’re always there for me, even when I screw up really badly, so you’re basically, kinda, my Dad…”

Watching the teen fumble for his words was always endearing and just cute in normal circumstances, but this was made even more poignant when the poor kid was literally telling him that he wanted Tony to be his father. He cupped Peter’s chin and gently raised his head to look into those big doe eyes once again, smiling affectionately and with shining conviction in his own dark eyes.

“Yeah, baby, I’m your Dad and you’re never leaving my sight again. You’re stuck with me forever, kiddo,” Tony murmured, leaning in to kiss his kid’s cheek just because he could.

Peter’s lip was trembling when he pulled back. “I missed you so much…” He whispered, a high-pitched whine breaking the elder’s heart once more. “I needed you so badly…”

“I know, baby, but I’m here now. We’re gonna be alright, I promise,” Tony expressed, earnestly, stroking his kid’s hair and pulling him into his chest again, because cuddles were what his son needed right now. His son. He held him close and pressed a kiss to the crown of his kid’s head. “I love you, Pete. Just shut your eyes for a bit, alright? Dad’s not going anywhere, kiddo.”

“M’kay…I love you too,” came the quiet, barely audible response from where it was mumbled against the thin cotton of the hospital gown. It didn’t take long after that for the boy to drop off to sleep and the father figure knew this, because he had begun humming lowly to lull his kid into a peaceful slumber. The poor kid needed it, he was emotionally and physically exhausted.

Peter clung to him even in sleep and Tony used the pads of his thumbs to carefully wipe the remaining tear tracks off his cheeks. It wasn’t long after that before Pepper and Morgan walked in. By the looks on their faces, they had heard everything that had happened in the room and Pepper had a sad yet knowing expression on her face when she saw the teen cuddled in her husband’s embrace, whose arms were wrapped protectively around him.

She lifted their daughter up to rest on her hip, so she wouldn’t run over to the pair, meeting her husband’s tired gaze and smiling, empathetically. He was the perfect father for Morgan and Peter, no-body could deny that when they were looking at him interacting with his kids.

“Is Petey gonna be okay, Daddy?” Morgan asked, quietly, peeping her head out of her mother’s neck.

“Yeah, kiddo, Daddy’s going to make him better.” Tony smiled.

Everything was going to be okay.

Chapter Text

Tony knew that the kid could be cute. Never in his entire life would he have thought he’d use that word to describe anything…well, maybe a chick or two, but certainly never a teenage boy. The kid was just so innocent, it was too endearing for a softy at heart like Tony not to become drawn in by his cuteness (yes, Tony believed he invented the word just for Peter).

Sometimes it was the way the spiderling spoke in fast beats, stumbling over his words and struggling to form a proper coherent sentence when he was excited, his big brown puppy dog eyes lighting up in excitement and a beaming smile crossing his youthful features.

Sometimes it was when the boy was too tired to do anything other than watch Star Wars on the sofa, his head resting on Tony’s shoulder and the not too discreet way he would snuggle into the man’s chest, eyes dropping shut as he murmured in a slurred voice, “Han shot first…”, before dropping off a moment later. Tony didn’t care whether Han shot first or not, but he did care about his kid getting the rest he really needed after a long day at school and patrol.

Sometimes it was when the kid was staying over at the Compound and he happened to ‘borrow’ one of Tony’s old MIT hoodies because he said he had ‘forgotten’ to bring one of his own with him and he shyly claimed that he liked the way it smelt. The sweater paws, the rosy blush, the lame excuse and to top it all off, the whispered claim that the kid liked the smell of Tony’s cologne, motor oil and faint laundry detergent was enough to have the billionaire melting into a puddle on the floor. This kid was just too damn cute and that wasn’t even the best part.

Peter Parker was one clingy little shit. It might have been annoying if it wasn’t so adorable. It also made complete sense to the genius, because the clinginess was unsurprising considering the fact that Peter lost his parents when he was a toddler, as well as his uncle and the only family he knew was his aunt. Tony just happened to be the only other adult figure in his life and the kid had gone from hero worship to being completely relaxed around the billionaire. He still talked constantly, but they seemed to have breached the physical contact barrier between them after months of working together and Tony mentoring the teen.

It had taken a while, but Tony had also lowered his shields and the occasional supportive pat on the arm, or ruffle of chestnut curls, had evolved to arms around shoulders and even cuddles on the sofa.

Tony had never cuddled with a kid before and even when he had been with women in the past, there was never really enough time to cuddle amongst ‘other’ things; only Pepper had been held in his arms for long periods of time. It had been slightly awkward at first, Peter had been exceptionally tired one night and seemed to be glancing at the older man in the corner of his eye from where they were relaxing watching Star Trek and Tony had eventually relented, subtly moving his head to rest against the headrest of the sofa and giving the boy the perfect opportunity to rest his head on his broad shoulder. It was strange how easily Peter fit into his arms, how safe and relaxed the kid must have felt with him if he was willing to fall asleep in that position, his head lying against Tony’s burly chest and one arm thrown loosely over his stomach.

Tony would never admit aloud to anyone, but sitting with the kid watching every Disney, or nerdy movie had become one of his favourite things to do. It wasn’t complicated, he wasn’t Iron Man to the teen during these sessions. He was just Tony, the mechanic that Peter worked with in the lab on weekends and ate Chinese takeaway with and bantered with during a movie marathon. Plus, he couldn’t describe the feeling that swept through him every time the kid stepped into the living area wearing one of his hoodies, or when he gingerly rested his head on Tony’s shoulder because he was too tired to keep his eyes open, but it felt good. It was better than anything he had ever felt before; only Peter Parker could make him feel this way.

The kid had him wrapped round his little finger, very tightly.

…

“Okay, kid,” Tony heaved, collapsing onto the sofa and stretching his legs up onto the coffee table, arms casually crossed behind his head. “What’ll it be this time? Another Star Wars? Animation, action? Lay it on me.”

The sausage and pepperoni pizza they had just shared, along with the cheesy garlic bread was settling nicely and the empty pizza boxes had been left abandoned on the kitchen counter. Neither bothered to put them away and, instead, both had headed straight for the couch. It was Friday and Peter had been studying for finals all week and Tony had been up to his eyeballs in company business policy meetings, boring stuff all around and they’d been waiting for their shared weekend for what felt like years.

“You choose this time, I always pick,” Peter said, plonking himself down beside the older man, not quite touching him, but it wouldn’t be long before they would resume their usual movie watching position.

“You running out of ideas?” Tony quirked with an amused smirk, eyes glistening with mirth and fondness for his charge, who rolled his eyes and shook his head.

“No way, I’m just bored of choosing,” Peter lamented, stretching his legs alongside his mentor’s and shoving his hands into the pockets of the dark burgundy hoody he had stolen from the man’s wardrobe a couple hours ago.

The fact that this particular sweater had a small oil stain and another black coffee mark from when the billionaire had been working in the lab many moons ago just made the kid that bit more endearing, because he clearly didn’t care if it was covered in blotches of any substance, as long as it had that signature smell relating to Tony.

He raised an eyebrow at this and leant back to think for a few moments, the kid watching him with that openly trusting look in his doe eyes. It was almost too much with the sweater paws and small lick of tomato sauce smeared across the kid’s top lip which he didn’t even realise was still there.

Tony glanced at him out of the corner of his eye and smiled, gesturing to his own upper lip, even though he was itching to lean over and wipe it away himself. God, since when did he become so paternal. He was freaking Tony Stark, he wasn’t the kid’s Dad, so why did his chest ache with so much affection and another emotion he couldn’t name whenever the boy was with him.

“You planning on having a tomato moustache forever before you actually grow hair there, Pete?” He joked.

“Huh?” Peter raised his fingers to his face, frowning when they came away with the red substance on his fingertips. “Oh, oops,” he giggled. He freaking giggled like it was the funniest thing in the world and Tony’s face twitched at the pleasant, amusing sound. It was like it ignited something within him, something primal. He would protect this kid at all costs, no matter what. The kid used his sleeve to wipe it away, his eyes going wide when he realised what he was doing.

“Oh sh-err- I’m sorry, Mister Stark. I-I just did it, b-but I can take it off, so we can put it in the wash and-“ He bumbled quickly, and Tony couldn’t stop the ear-splitting grin from taking over his features any more. This damn kid.

“Relax, underoos, it’s just a hoodie, I’ve got tons of them. Look at who you’re talking to,” he chuckled, raising a suggestive eyebrow.

“B-but, I’m always taking them and, well, you’ve never said anything…I guess I thought it was okay, but I shouldn’t have just a-assumed, you know…” Peter mumbled, glancing down as that red hue Tony was used to witnessing quite regularly covered both usually alabaster cheeks and the elder’s heart warmed at the sight of the bashful kid.

“Peter, I don’t care about the hoodie, alright?” Tony spoke, quietly, reaching forward to cup the teen’s face and gently lift his face so their gazes met again. “You can take as many as you want, I know they bring some kind of comfort to you and who am I to judge? You’re talking to a guy who couldn’t step into a swimming pool for months after Afghanistan, so you wanna wear my hoodies all day every time you come over, be my guest. There’s no judging here.”

A small smile crept onto the boy’s face and he nodded, causing Tony’s hand to fall from his face. “Thanks…and I’m sorry about all that stuff that happened to you, it really sucks.”

Tony returned the smile. It was impossible not to love this kid and he was sure that all that fondness was all over his face right now, but he didn’t care. “Don’t sweat it, kiddo, most of that is in the past now. Anyway, we’ve got an important decision to make right now, huh?”

“What?” Peter asked, brows furrowing in confusion, his fore-head wrinkling.

“What movie are we subjecting ourselves to this time?”

“Oh,” the teen laughed. “I dunno, you tell me! You’re in charge tonight.”

“Oh really? Hmm, okay…well, we know that a certain Spider-Baby has seen Aliens, but has he feasted his eyes on the very first one, or is that a bit too ‘old’ for you?” Tony teased, smirking at his kid with a playful wisp to his tone.

“No!” Peter gasped. “I watched the sequel at Ned’s once because we wanted to watch something scary even though we were only like ten and it really freaked Ned out! I never got to see the first one. Is it good?”

“Depends. Can you handle a bit of blood and gore, bud? I don’t want you fainting on me.”

“Duh! I’m Spider-Man, you don’t think I’ve seen a little bit of blood on patrol,” Peter sniggered.

“Mhm, we’ll see, kid,” Tony replied, knowingly. He didn’t believe the teen when he said that only his friend was scared of Aliens and the original was just as scary, maybe even more so. He leant back against the couch, but before he told FRIDAY to play the movie, he glanced to Peter one last time. “You sure, buddy?”

“Uh huh! I’m not scared.”

Well, this was going to be interesting.

…

The duo were onto their second film (101 Dalmations, because Peter insisted on watching something light and “kid-friendly” after the horror show in space) when FRIDAY suddenly spoke up.

Tony was still in the same position he had started off in, legs casually stretching onto the coffee table, but the kid was now slumped across him. His head was resting in the billionaire’s lap, legs curled up in a ball and Tony had been absent-mindedly combing his fingers through the teen’s baby soft curls. If the rest of the team were with them. he might have made the excuse that he had nowhere else to rest his hands now, but he secretly enjoyed the texture of Peter’s hair between his coarse fingers and he knew it comforted the kid, so it was a win-win situation.

Peter was exhausted, that much was clear from the moment he walked into the Compound and it wasn’t going to take much more coaxing for him to drop off. It was only nine, which was like early evening for Tony, but he’d been planning to get the teen to bed soon anyway, until FRIDAY announced a new mission…

“Boss, there’s been an incident in Philadelphia, a drugs bust gone wrong. Your assistance will be required.”

Tony groaned, head falling against the back of the couch. The only night he had with the kid and usual Avengers business had to intervene, but crime couldn’t be predicted of course.

“Where are the others?” He asked, scraping a hand over his face as he forced his lethargic brain to become alert once again.

“Captain Rogers, Miss Romanoff and Colonel Rhodes are heading to the Quinjet now. Colonel Rhodes is asking for you.”

“Are we goin’ on a mission?” Peter slurred from below, lifting his head with a groggy look in his dropping eyes. Tony only just managed to contain a coo when he saw the unruly mess of curls atop of the boy’s head, chestnut locks sticking up everywhere and a soft blush painted across both cheeks.

“I’m going on the mission, you’re staying here and getting some beauty sleep,” Tony affirmed, placing his feet back on the floor and shifting forward to quickly stretch after being sat in the same position for so long. “Tell the platypus that I’m on my way, FRI.”

“What? No, I’m coming too,” Peter retorted, attempting to stand, but was quickly stopped by a firm hand in the centre of his chest.

“Ah ah, no arguing, kid. You’re not an Avenger yet and you’re not authorised to come along, so nope. You’re staying here, no ifs or buts,” Tony spoke, firmly, fingers twitching to smooth down the kid’s hair, but he didn’t because he was already standing up. He knew the teen was too tired and delirious to even form a coherent argument anyway.

“Ughh, fine…” Peter groaned, basically face planting onto the spot that his mentor just vacated, and Tony huffed a puff of laughter at the action.

He grabbed the blanket from the top of the sofa and draped it over the boy, lifting his head and sliding a pillow underneath. “Take a cat nap but try not to stay here all night otherwise it’ll screw your neck and back.”

“Yeah, you’d know,” Peter giggled, the delightful sound sweeping through the genius once again, enlightening every cell in his body. The kid’s laughter was infectious.

“Hey, I’m in prime condition, smart-ass.” Tony poked the kid’s cheek, causing his nose to scrunch up as he laughed.

“Okay, I take it back!”

“Right answer!” The playful atmosphere dissolved as soon as it came, and the seriousness of the situation caught up with the older superhero. He hated to leave the kid on his own for God knows how long, but he hoped that he would be back soon. “Alright, kid, get some sleep. I’ll be back later.” He ruffled the teen’s hair.

“Uh huh, see you soon…” Peter murmured, eyes already slipping shut.

He hoped the kid was right and they would be back sooner rather than later.

…

“What do you make of this then?”

“Huh?”

“The kid.”

“What kid?”

“The kid currently camping out on Stark’s couch.”

Bruce Banner turned from where he was making a coffee with the fancy coffee machine Tony had on his floor (many members of the team often snuck into his kitchen to sample his tech). The expression on his face was comical as it was almost like an animated character, one eyebrow raised and jaw gawking in clear disbelief.

“There’s a kid here?”

“Yeah huh,” Clint smirked, arms crossed over his chest and jerking his chin in the direction of the sofa. “Cute kid too, looks about thirteen. He’s conked out, dead to the world, kipping like a-”

“Alright alright, hang on,” Bruce interjected with a roll of his eyes, taking his now full cup of coffee and placing it on the desktop. The machine made a loud hissing noise when it was heating up, so if there was a kid over there, God knows how he slept through the noise, on top of the two superheroes having a pretty lively chit chat.

The mutant approached the couch and nearly did a double take when he saw a teenager sprawled out, a blanket tangled around his limbs and sporting an impressive bed head, snoozing peacefully.

“What the fu-“

“Easy, Cap would be so disappointed,” Clint teased, shoulders shaking with silent laughter.

“Clint! Who the he-who is this kid? I’m pretty certain that Tony doesn’t have any children,” Bruce said, scraping a hand over his face and staring at the slumbering boy in complete disbelief. Stark had never mentioned having any kids over, but then again, the team didn’t keep tabs on every little thing each of them did. They still had their own lives outside of Avengers business.

“Maybe he kept him hidden away, doesn’t want the whole world to know.”

“Nah, we would know if that was the case. He couldn’t have kept him a secret his whole life too, Tony’s in the public eye too much,” Bruce reasoned.

Clint nodded in agreement, chuckling as he watched the teen mumbled incoherently in his sleep, whimpering a little as he turned onto his back, his arms flinging over his head in a similar fashion to the way a baby would sleep. It was pretty cute to a seasoned father’s eyes.

“Well, if he’s not Stark’s, then who he is? He can’t be anyone he plucked off the street.”

Bruce shrugged his shoulders in complete bewilderment. “I don’t know, does Tony take interns? Anyway, it’s been about like an hour since the others left and the kid’s passed out on the couch. We don’t know when Tony will be back, so we should probably get him to a bed at least.”

“Yeah, I don’t know, I don’t think it’s our place. We don’t know anything about this kid, we should probably wait for Stark. Besides, I did my back in training at the weekend, he’s a little bigger than Nathanial,” Clint chuckled, stretching his stiff limbs and wincing when the bones cracked from the strain.

“Sure, any bloody excuse,” Bruce sighed good-naturedly with another roll of his eyes, perching on the edge of the coffee table and only just now realising that the empty pizza boxes must have belonged to the kid and Tony. He didn’t know why it only just struck him then, but maybe the slight tomato sauce stain around the kid’s lips had something to do with it.

Clint just crossed his arms and watched in amusement as the mutant reached over to gently shake the teen’s shoulder.

“Kid? Hey, kid? Can you open your eyes for me?” Bruce asked, ignoring the laughter dancing in his friend’s eyes.

It took a little bit more coaxing, but eventually the boy groaned and shifted, his head twisting from side to side as he slowly came around. He must have been in deep sleep and when he blinked his eyes open, the drowsiness and confusion was clear in his big brown eyes. He looked much younger than he probably was with the bed hair and the innocent look in his eyes.

“Huh…s-what’s-goin’-on?” The kid slurred, gazing at the scientist with no real focus or recognition.

“Hi, buddy, sorry to wake you up. I’m Doctor Bruce Banner and that’s Clint Barton over there, but I guess you probably know that. What’s your name?”

In other circumstances, Peter probably would have been brimming with excitement at meeting the Hulk and Hawkeye (properly) for the first time, but his whole head felt like it was filled with cotton wool and he just wanted to sleep for a week.

“Pe’er, hi…” The teen mumbled, eyes already slipping closed again involuntarily.

“Hey, wait a minute, kid. You shouldn’t be sleeping here, it won’t be good for your back.”

“Mmm noooo…” Peter whined when Bruce attempted to pull him up into a sitting position.

“C’mon, Peter, you’ve got to help me out here.”

“Nooo, sleep…”

He was asleep again within seconds, a vague thought of spiders and how they could sleep in any place passing through his subconscious.

Bruce, completely speechless, could only turn to look at Clint for support, who was covering his mouth, but the amused smirk was obviously there. He just shook his head.

“Well, you tried, pal. That kid’s whacked, we should just let him have forty winks and catch up with Tony when they get back,” the archer said with a shrug of his shoulders.

“Yeah, I guess there’s nothing else we can do till then.” Bruce stood and headed back over to the kitchen to grab his coffee. “FRIDAY, you’re keeping an eye on this kid, right?”

“The Baby Monitor.2 protocol is currently in full effect as per Boss’ wishes.”

“Baby Monitor?” Clint cackled, holding his chest as he heaved. “Well, we know he’s a regular then. Definitely betting money on the bio child now.”

Bruce scoffed. “Yeah sure…Come on, let’s go.”

…

It was nearing midnight when the small group of superheroes finally touched down back at the Compound. The mission had gone well, and they’d managed to catch the drug dealers, who had stolen some alien weapons, but once the Avengers arrived, they were well matched, and it hadn’t taken too long to take them down.

Tony, used to spending long nights tinkering in the workshop, wasn’t as shattered as the others and he was more fuelled with determination to get back to his kid. He knew that Pete would be safe with FRIDAY and the others, but there was some kind of primal feeling inside him which urged him to see the teen was okay with his own eyes, and only then would he be able to relax.

His growing anxiety was easily recognised by Rhodey (especially seeing as he was jigging his knees up and down subconsciously), who glanced at him in the corner of his eye with a knowing smirk.

“You’ve got that look again, Tones,” he said, nudging his best friend playfully, who looked at him blankly.

“What look?”

“Duh, the ‘Dad look’. You’re thinking about that kid of yours.”

Tony didn’t even have the heart to make a wisecrack comment like he usually would, it was too late, and he just wanted to be with Peter again. “Yeah, I hate leaving him for too long. I know he’s safe at the Compound, but I just have this stupid feeling I can’t explain…like I feel he would be safer if I was there with him. I can’t explain it.”

“Well I can,” Rhodey chuckled, fondly. “I see it with Dads in the army all the time, they’ve just got this natural tendency to want to be with their kids, to protect them from everything and keep them safe.  It’s just this instinct they have, a feeling. That’s what you’ve got, you’re completely smitten with that kid, Tony.”

The genius smiled at that, eyes crinkling with amusement, but there was clear acceptance and agreement with what Rhodes had implied. “Smitten, huh?”

“No doubt about it.” Rhodey’s dark eyes were shining. “I’ve seen the way you look at him, you hang onto his every word. Don’t even get me started on the cuddles-“

“God, shut it, honeybear. I miss him, alright? I can’t wait to see him again when we get back. I love that crazy Spider-Baby, it actually scares me sometimes,” Tony confessed, a rare moment of genuine emotion bleeding through the layers he’d build up for years. He only peeled them back with those closest to him.

Rhodes laughed at this. “We’ll get you home with your kiddo soon, Tones. Won’t we, Nat?” He directed at Natasha, who was sat across from them and had been listening to the whole thing.

She was smiling, broadly, a similar expression to the Colonel’s gracing her beautiful features. “Uh huh, Steve will get you to your baby.”

Tony could only sit and wait. He was going soft, but when was he really that tough in the first place?

…

“About freaking time!” Clint accosted them as soon as they stepped out of the Quinjet.

“What? What’s happened? Is Peter okay, did something happen, what-“

“Yeah, you’re damn right there! The kid’s safe, but what the hell were you two watching before you left?!” Barton demanded. “He kept on waking up and asking for you, he wouldn’t let anybody freaking touch him or move him to a bed. He just kept saying he wanted you over and over again.”

“Shit!” Tony was already pushing past him to get to his kid and the others weren’t too far behind. “Is he still awake?”

“No, he clonked out again about twenty minutes ago. Bruce is in there now. Tony, who the hell is this kid?”

“He’s my intern.” He’s my kid.

Tony ignored the bewildered team after that, racing into the building and jamming the button of the elevator for his floor. Clint, Natasha and Rhodes only just managed to jump in beside him, before the doors slid shut and took them up.

“Jesus, Stark, you going all mother hen on us, or what?” Clint barked a laugh, the billionaire throwing him a dirty look, before breathing a sigh of relief when the doors finally opened.

Bruce was lounging on the sofa opposite the one he had left Peter sleeping on when he left, the mutant shot up when his science bro raced in.

“He’s asleep, don’t worry,” Bruce reassured, holding his hands up. “He’s been pretty restless though, tossing and turning a lot and whining a few times, kept mumbling your name too.”

“Thanks, Brucie,” Tony spoke automatically, only glancing at his friend to shoot him a quick smile, a silent look of gratitude for staying with his son, before he finally approached the boy. He was aware that they had onlookers, but that was the last thing on his mind. It was probably time for the team to know who Peter is anyway.

He crouched beside the teen’s sleeping form, expression instantly softening at the sight of his kid in the oversized hoody and mess of unruly baby soft curls. It felt like much longer than a few hours since he’d last been cuddling with the youth and his heart ached at the sweetness this kid just seemed to radiate. He was so pure and perfect and Tony couldn’t resist gently sweeping some fallen hair away from Peter’s fore-head, smiling softly when the kid subconsciously leaned into the touch.

Tony leaned in and pressed a kiss to the boy’s temple, earning him a quiet groan from the slumbering form beneath and groggy shifting limbs. “Wake up, honey, I’m here now…” the elder murmured against the kid’s skin, trailing his coarse fingers through those silky locks he loved so much.

Clint’s jaw was dropped in pure disbelief; Bruce was looking on in astonishment and intrigue; Rhodey was smirking; Natasha was smiling softly and Steve, he was just watching with smiling eyes.

Peter shifted his head underneath his mentor’s lips, a small whine escaping him as he slowly regained consciousness, the tiny distressed sound prompting Tony to place small kisses across his kid’s pale fore-head and cheeks to soothe him.

“Shh, it’s alright, buddy. No points to me for letting you watch a scary film before leaving you on your own for hours, I’m sorry, kiddo,” he chuckled, lowly, watching with a tender gaze as the kid finally opened his eyes. Tony smiled, affectionately. “Hey, Pete.”

The boy’s big brown eyes lit up at the familiar face once the sleepiness had passed, a tired lopsided grin brightening his youthful features. “Tony…You’re back!” He sounded so excited to see the genius, it was honestly adorable. Yep, ‘sweet’ and ‘adorable’ had passed through Tony’s head yet again in just a few minutes of being in his kid’s presence. “Did you win?”

“Yeah, pretty easy job,” Tony smiled, continuing to rake his fingers through the teen’s curls self-indulgently and because he knew Peter loved the comfort he received from the gesture. “Anyway, less of my shit, kid.” He playfully jabbed the boy’s button nose with his free hand, causing it to scrunch up in the cutest way. Yep, cute again. Screw him, he had a cute kid. “Brucie Bear and Catnip tell me you’ve been having nightmares, do you know what that means?”

Peter blinked, tiredly, a small yawn escaping him as he raised an eyebrow in confusion. “Nope.”

“No more scary movies, ever.”

The kid giggled at his playfully serious tone and Tony’s heart instantly lifted at the bright sound (yet again). “Yeah, maybe you’re right about that…” He agreed, words already starting to slur as his eyes slipped shut, before he shook his head to force them open again. Another yawn followed.

“Okay, bedtime for Spider-Baby,” Tony remarked, fondly and the boy just nodded, raising his arms to loop around his mentor’s neck and cling on with his powers. The older man didn’t make any comment, simply wrapping his own arms around his kid’s slender body and lifting him up, Peter’s legs immediately latching around his mentor’s waist and face buried in his shoulder. A content sigh escaped the boy as he nuzzled his face into the curve of Tony’s neck, breathing in that soothing signature Tony smell, which helped him drift off quicker.

Peter was light in his arms because of the spider bite and the weight was comforting, he finally had his son in his arms again. Tony eventually made eye contact with the others, a small smirk tugging at the corner of his lips as he took in the range of expressions facing him.

“No questions until he’s in bed, got it?”

Rhodes snorted, but Tony didn’t wait for any more responses, as he was already turning to head towards the kid’s bedroom just a couple doors down from his own.

Tony shouldered the door open, carefully avoiding the Lego he knew was strewn beside the chest of drawers as he shuffled across the carpet in the dark, before carefully laying his kid on the bed.

He manoeuvred the flaying limbs underneath the duvet, wondering for a moment how the kid had made him so domestic, before pushing the thought down and tucking the boy in. Bending down, he pressed a kiss to the teen’s fore-head, brushing his hand through Peter’s hair again as he inhaled the sweet smell of the apple shampoo.

“Night night, Pete. Love you, baby,” he murmured against his son’s skin.

Yeah, he owed the others a bit of long overdue explanation…

Chapter Text

“Tony…no matter how many times you call, it’s not going to change the fact that I’m halfway across the world,” Rhodes spoke, voice crackling over the phone as he was currently shifting through papers for his next assignment less than twelve hours away.

“Come on, platypus, I can’t rock up on my own…” Tony drawled on the other end, spinning in circles in his favourite adjustable chair in the workshop at the Tower.

“Tony-“

“Sour patch-“

“Hey! I have a great idea, why don’t you hang up right now and I can actually finish planning for one of the biggest raids of my career!” Rhodes shot back, rolling his eyes and sighing in exasperation at his best friend’s insistence. It wasn’t exactly a surprise, of course.

“Nuh uh, I’m just gonna keep ringing, you can’t keep avoiding me.”

“Tony, Jesus Christ-Okay, okay, I’ve got an even better idea, right? Wanna hear it? Take the kid with you.”

A pause. A sharp sniff on the other end.

“Pete?”

“What other kid do you know?” Rhodes cackled. “If you’re so keen on him going MIT, this’ll be a great experience for him. Plus, he’s sweet, everyone will love him, and you don’t have to do much heavy lifting.”

Tony smiled at this. Thirty years since he’d graduated at seventeen and those drunken nights with his best pal, sleeping about with random hookers, only seemed like yesterday. Even though so much had changed since then, including his own sense of morals, he remembered it all. He was secretly apprehensive about seeing the classmates again after so long (although he would never admit to it out loud), because God knows what they thought of the genius, billionaire, (ex) playboy, philanthropist now.

Rhodey was right, he needed the kid with him, more for a sense of stability and moral support than anything else. Plus, it probably would be good for him to have a look around his potential future college.

“Alright, you’ve backed me into a corner here. You better be right about this, or I’m telling them all about the classic strip and flit dare-“

“Don’t you fucking dare, Tones, that stays between you and me. No body needs that image to be their memory of me,” Rhodes cut in.

“I beg to differ,” Tony sniggered.

“Alright, go bug someone else, I’m busy earning a living.”

“Uh huh, a pleasure as always.” Tony hung up. “FRIDAY?”

“Yes, Boss?”

“Call the kid.”

…

“Has it really been thirty years since you graduated, Mr Stark?” Peter asked, big brown eyes gazing at him from across the seats with that innocent curiosity he always had.

“Uh huh, the big three zero,” Tony replied. “Don’t rub it in though, kid.” He ripped open a bag of sweets and handed one to his accomplice, who happily took a couple.

They had been driving for about an hour and there was another two to go until they reached the hotel in Massachusetts, Happy his usual ‘cheerful’ self in the front. Peter was dressed in a blue hoodie with a nerdy science pun on with jeans and the Star Wars themed converse Tony had gotten him for Christmas, beaming with excitement about going on a road trip over the weekend with his mentor, unaware of how Tony was currently a mixed bag of emotions and practically a quivering wreck. He hid it well.

“Wow! You were only a few years older than me too,” Peter observed. “Is it weird that everyone knows so much about you, even though they haven’t even met you?”

“Not when you’ve grown up with the media surrounding you all the time, buddy. My Dad loved getting me in the papers, good business strategy for the next generation, of course,” Tony commented, dryly, chewing on a strawberry flavoured gem.

Peter didn’t know much about Tony’s father as his mentor didn’t bring the guy up often, but it usually made him feel uncomfortable since it reminded him of the time that Tony took his suit away. Tony definitely felt like a Dad then; he had always been looking up to him for his whole life and now that he knew him in person, it devastated him to have his mentor and idol yell at him.

“That sucks, Mr Stark, I’m sorry.”

“Aw, Pete, don’t worry about it, I’m used to it. I don’t want those as-jerks messing you up though, kid. Once they get a whiff of me being there, there’ll be cameras all over the place and they can’t be anywhere near you because you’re a minor.”

“It’s okay, Happy will look after us, won’t you?” Peter teased, laughing brightly when the bodyguard just rolled his eyes and didn’t say anything.

Things were quiet for a few minutes as they watched the traffic of the highway, the sun sparkling and a beautiful golden glow warming the appearance of the usually ordinary, dull look of the concrete floor.

“How are you going to explain me being there?” Peter asked, quietly, glancing at his mentor with a slightly uneasy expression and Tony couldn’t help but find him endearing. He always was when it came to Peter, it was those big doe eyes that did it.

“You’re my intern, simple.” You’re my kid. I love you so much.

“But, what if they…” He trailed off.

“What?”

“Nothing, it’s stupid,” Peter grumbled, shaking his head and reaching over to grab a couple more gems, shoving them rather unceremoniously into his mouth.

“Come on, kid, you can tell me anything. We’re all casual here, alright?” Tony reassured.

“What if they don’t like me? I mean, I’m just this random kid from Queens tagging along with Tony Stark, like, you’re you. You’re Iron Man and I’m just, just…”

“Just what? Spider-Man? Pete, who gives a fu-okay, screw it, who gives a fuck what they think?” Tony demanded, not angry at Peter of course, but at the mere idea of people he hadn’t seen in thirty years judging him or his kid. This incredible boy was so smart, so kind, so wonderful and was the best thing that had ever happened to him. No body judged his kid whilst he was in the room, he wouldn’t allow it.

“You are Peter Parker and Peter Parker isn’t changing for anyone, you got that? You’re you and that’s perfect. As for me, well, they see Iron Man and who cares? You and I know that’s not all there is to me, right?”

Peter smiled a little. “No…you’re Tony too.”

“Yep.” He popped the ‘p’, returning the smile. “Just think, you’re more powerful than any of them, Spider-Man.”

The teen scoffed at this, but his eyes were shining with unspoken gratitude and it was clear that the older man’s words of wisdom had gotten through to him. Tony loved that look of complete trust and hope in his kid’s eyes, it never ceased to warm his stone cold heart every time.

“Thanks for inviting me,” Peter murmured, too awkward to meet the elder’s eyes and Tony only just managed to refrain from cooing aloud at the sweetness of the action.

He chuckled, warmly, reaching over to fondly ruffle the boy’s unruly chestnut curls, loving the soft texture beneath his coarse fingers. “What would I do without you, kiddo?” He mused, not meaning for it to actually be spoken aloud, but thankfully the kid was still smiling, that rosy blush spreading across his cheeks like it always did when he was shy.

The teen ducked his head, scratching the back of his neck as a nervous habit. “What would I do without you?” He echoed back, unable to look the man in the eye, but sensing the waves of mutual affection radiating off of his mentor and Peter suddenly had a huge urge to lean over and hug him tightly.

Another chuckle and this time he peeked up, overwhelmed by the gooey, soft look in Tony’s dark chocolate eyes, gleaming with adoration and (there was no other word for that look in his eyes) love. He’d seen it in May’s expression and he had a very vague memory of it back when he was a toddler with his parents before they got on the plane. Tony often had this glimmer in his eyes when he was with Peter too and it never ceased to completely stun the teen.

“C’mere you, I know that look,” Tony spoke, indulgently, raising his arm in invitation and Peter wasted no time in undoing his seatbelt and crawling across the black leather seats to cuddle up to the man’s side.

“Mm, I love your cuddles…” Peter murmured, snuggling even closer and nuzzling his head into the man’s suit jacket, who didn’t even hesitate to drop a kiss to the top of those baby soft curls.

“Mhm,” Tony hummed, fondly, resting his chin on the crown of the boy’s head and smirking when he caught Happy’s eye in the rear view mirror.

Peter soon fell asleep and the billionaire was content to hold his kid in his arms for the remainder of the drive. Peter was like a soothing balm to his anxiety and all he had now was pleasant feelings about the reunion.

…

The hotel was huge! Peter didn’t expect anything less of course, but it had to be the most expensive place he had ever been booked into. It was pretty similar to the one he had stayed in when Happy took him to Berlin, but this one had a pool too.

It was around nine when they arrived, as Happy had picked the kid up from school to take him to the apartment so he could grab his overnight bag and they had met Tony at a diner for something to eat, before hitting the road.

Peter was still pretty lethargic, even after Tony gently shook him awake, and he clumsily followed his mentor’s pace and was too tired to notice the knowing looks the adults were giving each other, or the amused smirk on Tony’s face as he booked them in. He did register the warm arm around his shoulders, however, as they waited in the elevator and he was gently steered towards their room for the night.

“Night night, Hap, I’m gonna get the Spider-Baby to bed,” Tony murmured to his friend, his fondness for said spiderling bleeding through his warm tone, as he closed the door behind him with a soft click. “Alright, kiddo, you wanna change into something comfier?”

The dopey, tired smile he received caused him to sniff in amusement and he knew the kid wasn’t going to be very capable of looking after himself if he was this exhausted, so Tony placed his small suitcase on the double bed and rifled through the clothes until he found some pyjamas. He grinned when he recognised the Hello Kitty bottoms, accompanied by a red and grey hoodie with Iron Man striking his iconic pose on the front.

Peter practically blushed to the roots when he spotted the clothes in his mentor’s hands and covered his face in embarrassment, whining quietly, “The others are in the wash, I swear, Mr Stark…”

“Hmm, sure, bud, whatever you say,” the mechanic teased, a twinkle in his eye as he pushed the pyjamas into the teen’s arms, chuckling when he clutched them close and dashed into the bathroom instantly.

Tony changed into some grey track pants and a black top, having no intention of going to bed for at least another hour, but he wanted to give the kid the impression that he was. Peter, so far, hadn’t sensed his mentor’s anxiety rearing its ugly head at the most inconvenient moments yet again and Tony was very much intending to keep it that way. He was sitting on the kid’s bed for almost ten minutes playing on his phone, when Peter finally shuffled in, crossing his arms as he attempted to hid the obvious Iron Man proudly gleaming on the front of his shirt.

“I may have squirted a bit too much tooth paste…” Peter admitted, sheepishly, as the billionaire’s gaze naturally drifted towards the dark stain mixed with white, where the kid had obviously attempted to wash away the mark. It was just typical Pete and it was adorable. It was all over Iron Man’s helmet too.

“I’m trying my hardest not to be offended,” Tony said, deadpan, even though the mischievous smirk was still tugging at the corner of his lips.

Peter giggled at this, cheeks flushing red as he wrung his hands in the hem of the top, shifting awkwardly on his feet. “Were you, um…were, er, you going to tuck me in?” He asked, almost trailing off into a whisper as he completely avoided the older man’s gaze.

Tony didn’t even have the heart to come up with some kind of snarky remark, since that was actually what he was sitting in the kid’s room for. Plus, how could a softy at heart (although he would never admit it) not find Peter Parker endearing; the boy didn’t even seem to realise it and Tony could only smile, fondly at the twitchy kid in front of him.

“Mhm, get over here,” he spoke, softly, pulling back the blanket and gestured towards the mattress with his head, laugh lines crinkling when the teen’s doe eyes widened in barely masked surprise, before he eventually stumbled over.

A gentle, warm hand settled on his back as his father figure guided him down and pulled the crimson duvet up but stopped when he came to the stain. Peter was already taken aback, but his heart jolted when Tony suddenly licked the tip of his thumb and scrubbed away the stain on his top.

The thoughtless action and the expression on the man’s face was so soft and paternal, his dark chocolate eyes melting like the real thing and he only seemed to notice what he was doing when his gaze met Peter’s. Neither really knew what to say and it was a rather outstanding moment as they just looked at each other, seeming to have an entire conversation inside their heads.

“Get some beauty sleep, buddy,” Tony eventually said, raking his coarse fingers through the teen’s curls, heart blooming with an emotion he hadn’t quite given a name yet, as the kid blinked up at him sleepily, a dozy smile brightening his youthful features.

“Night, Tony…” Peter mumbled, eyes slipping shut as Tony comfortingly stroked his hair, not even aware that this was one of the first times he had addressed his mentor by his first name.

Tony sniffed in amusement once more, leaning over to click the bedside lamp off with his free hand, chest clenching once again once his eyes adjusted to the new darkness and saw the kid barely suppressing a yawn as he nuzzled his face into the pillow.

“God, I love you, kid.” He did it, he finally voiced the feeling that had been stirring within him for quite some time now and he only felt safe saying it, since the boy was already asleep. Well, at least he bloody hoped so…He bent and brushed a feather light kiss across the teen’s fore-head, before retreating from the room.

Peter sniffed, a small smile flashing on his face for a brief moment, before he turned over and was soon quietly snoring a few minutes later.

…

Not a word was spoken about their conversation, or lack thereof, the night before and besides, Peter was too consumed with the big breakfast Tony had ordered up to the room the moment he heard the tell-tale signs of the kid stirring in the opposite room.

It was laughable the way those sneaky fatherly instincts crept up on the man once again when he felt an unexplainable urge to lean over and wipe away the smudge of chocolate sauce on the kid’s cheek.

It was his fault for ordering a triple stack of pancakes, whilst he was quite content to dine on a gluten free waffle or two no matter how much Peter protested, but he needed to make sure the kid was at least somewhat presentable. He wasn’t prepared for the comments regarding his new domestic side, which he would very likely be the recipient of with a kid covered in chocolate sauce and crumbs all over his top.

“C’mon, bud, you’d better change that top before we get any lookers.” Tony smirked and when Peter’s brow furrowed in confusion, he gestured with a quick tip of his head and the boy followed his gaze to crumbs littering the red t-shirt he had only put on ten minutes ago.

“Oh crap…”

“Ohhh, bringing out the big boy words now?” Tony teased, playfully. “What would Aunt Hottie say?”

“Knock it off, crap isn’t swearing. I know some worst ones,” Peter shot back, sticking his tongue out and standing up sluggishly.

“You might wanna check your face first, kid, looks like you’re saving something for later,” Tony called after him, dusting his hands of waffle crumbs and taking a swig of coffee.

That warm feeling was still blooming in his chest and, although it wasn’t a foreign sensation; he had felt it with Pepper very strongly, it was definitely something that felt relatively new with a child. He never thought he’d want kids or even have them, but this kid just did things to him, made him feel things he never thought he would experience.

He was looking forward to spending the day with his kid and he knew that he wouldn’t be able to get through this reunion without him.

…

“Tony fucking Stark!”

“No way!”

“Is this your boy?”

“Yes and no,” Tony stated, dryly, a stiff smile on his face as he guided Peter into his seat and took the one next to him, placing himself between his kid and the three over people they had been seated with for ice breakers.

They had sat through a couple of speeches and now they had a three course meal to share with randomly selected past students. Tony barely recognised the three men, but it was obvious that they had stayed in contact and were probably roommates in college. To be fair, the billionaire had probably had a few drinks or nights out with them at some point and would have been too intoxicated to remember anything.

Peter, a small polite smile on his face, glanced at his mentor as he waited for him to take the lead and Tony suddenly felt an overwhelming surge of protection towards the boy as he witnessed Peter’s unadulterated trust and belief in him. That warm feeling was back at a passionate strength, his heart clenching so much that it was almost painful.

“Well, you already know who I am of course. This is Peter and…” He purposefully avoided stating his relationship to the teen and he couldn’t help but make it obvious that he couldn’t remember these three men to save his life.

“Oh, right, you don’t remember! Well, I wouldn’t if I were you,” the blonde one sniggered. “I’m Joe, we had a few classes together and this is Tom (the dark haired one) and Phil (the one with glasses); it’s surprising to see you at one of these, dude.”

“Have I missed any?” Tony asked, his sarcasm barely concealed as he didn’t like the smart looks all three of them were giving him and the way they were sneaking quick glances at the kid as they tried to work out who he was.

“No, but Tony Stark? You were never one for schedules, were you?” Tom piped up with a smirk. He wasn’t wrong, but who was he to judge when they hadn’t seen each other for thirty years.

“Shouldn’t you be busy being a superhero anyway? I saw it on the news when you told the press and when you took that missile into space. My son’s favourite has always been the Hulk though,” Phil chuckled. “How about you, kid?”

“Oh, Mr Sta-I mean, Tony’s always been my favourite,” Peter admitted, a rich blush covering both cheeks as he ducked his head shyly.

“Oh yeah? Well, we all know you’d make something of yourself, of course. Are you a genius too like your old man, Pete?” Joe asked.

Peter stole a swift glance at Tony at the comment, who wasn’t making any move to correct the guy, so he licked his lips nervously and spoke. “Err, well I go to Midtown School of Science and Technology and I’m really interested in physics, chemistry and engineering. I help Tony out in the lab sometimes…”

They couldn’t know he was Spider-Man, so he’d better stop before he got ahead of himself.

“Yep, you’re definitely his kid then. Why haven’t we seen anything on the news-“

“Oh, looks like food is here,” Tony interrupted, squeezing the back of the boy’s neck reassuringly as he noticed him wringing his hands underneath the white clothed table, anxiously. The long tables at the top were currently being stocked with all kinds of hot foods.

“Good, I’m starving,” Tom piped up, stretching enthusiastically and rising, his friends following in quick succession.

“See you in a few, gents,” Phil added, before they made their way to the starter section of the spread.

“You hungry, kid?” Tony asked after a few moments, turning to smile at the boy.

“Yeah, it smells good.” Peter recognised the stiffness in his features instantly, it was clear in the perceptive look in his sweet brown eyes. “Are you going to tell them? I mean, about-“

“Nah, what they don’t know won’t hurt them, right?” Tony quipped, patting his shoulder and standing. “C’mon, there’s a plate of spring rolls with my name on it.”

Peter snickered at this and followed. There was already a big group and as soon as people recognised Tony, they were coming up to him and shaking his hand, gleefully, excited to see the son of Howard Stark once again. Peter almost lost sight of the man with the swarm of crowd, but on the plus side, it was easier to get to the food on offer.

The three guys they were sat with were still bundled together around the starters section and they didn’t even notice that Peter was only a few metres away, but the kid noticed them straight away.

They were talking about him and Tony. Talking about them behind their backs like kids he knew his age.

“What do you reckon then? Stark having a kid?”

“Jesus, you remember him back then? He was out of one girl’s room and straight into another. That kid’s probably got loads of siblings he’s not even aware of!”

They all snorted.

“I feel sorry for that boy, he’s clearly bright and do you reckon Stark even spends any time with him?” Phil mused.

“Nah, he’s too busy flying about in a toy suit and swaggering about rich parties. God knows how many women he’s been with. That’s the high life for ya, I guess.”

“You’re right about the girls though, he’s probably slept with loads whilst the kid was in the tower.”

Joe laughed. “Yep, I wouldn’t put it past him. He always had loads of them after him, no-body else could get a look in. That poor kid, I wouldn’t want to be in his shoes. It’s all well and good being the son of a billionaire and getting everything you want, but Stark is too busy hamming up the life of a freaking celebrity rather than spending time with him.”

Peter couldn’t hear anymore, the blood in pounding in his ears as pure infiltered rage seared through his entire being. He was so fucking angry and the only other time he had really felt this much frustration was when his uncle died. He was too young to be angry about his parents’ deaths, but being a teenager still learning about the world on top of finding out about his superpowers had made losing Ben one of the worst periods in his entire life.

This was different, but these bastards were talking shit about someone he greatly admired and looked up to for his whole life and not only that, but the man who had become like a father to him. He had lost count of the amount of times he had thought of Tony as his father on numerous occasions and these men didn’t have a right to speak about Tony like this. They didn’t know anything about him, they didn’t know that Tony had issues just like everyone else, that he was really a big softy at heart even though the world saw his charismatic, snarky persona as being everything there was to him.

They didn’t know that every time he had a nightmare, every time he was hurt, every time he needed Tony, Tony was always there without fail. He would hold him close, strong arms wrapped securely around him, stroking his back or caressing his hair and sometimes, when he was crying so much, and his spider senses were particularly well attuned to every small detail around him, Tony would whisper quiet reassuring words in his ear and he even placed kisses in his hair when he thought Peter wouldn’t notice.

They didn’t know Tony, they were just basing their judgement on the shallowest nonsense that the press liked to indulge in. It was stupid, so stupid and so unfair. They didn’t even give his Dad a chance - (Oops…gotta stop doing that), but who cares, he was angry and frustrated, and he didn’t care if these guys knew or not. In fact…

“Where the hell do you guys get off?!” Peter demanded, shocking the three as they turned to the fifteen year-old with wide eyes, obviously completely oblivious to his presence until now.

“Oh, hey, Pete-“ Joe began, but he was instantly cut off with a sharp snap of an enraged son.

“Don’t call me that. Only one person calls me that and that’s Tony. Yeah, the Tony you guys just love slagging of even though you don't know a single thing about him!” Peter exploded.

All that rage had bubbled up to the surface and suddenly the group had onlookers from all around, but the teen was too far gone now to even noticed. He was only fixed on the three men who almost looked like they were kids caught for stealing or saying naughty words. It would have been comical in better circumstances.

Tom tried to speak, his expression panicked yet somewhat empathetic, but Peter didn’t give him the window of opportunity he was looking for.

“Shut up. Just shut the hell up all of you! You don’t have a right to talk about him and to think that he became Iron Man just to fly about and go to expensive parties and sleep with people? Yeah, just believe everything you read in the news I guess…Whatever, you guys, you just don’t know him. He’s not just some playboy and he’s not just Iron Man…he’s (my Dad, my Dad, he’s Dad, he’s Dad) Tony… and he’s been through so much crap too. He’s just a normal person like you, okay? And no-body deserves to be talked about behind their back…” He trailed off, the heat seeming to die off just as quickly as it had arrived and the simple fact that he had just spotted Tony pushing his way through the stunned crowd caused all the venom to die on his lips immediately.

He was suddenly very much aware of the onlookers and he could feel his cheeks burning, palms and underarms beginning to sweat as his eyes darted around the many confused faces, before falling to the wooden floor.

“Alright alright, show’s over ladies and gents,” Tony spoke after a moment, his warm sense of humour always managing to defuse the tension and they all gave him chuckled, awkwardly.

It was clear that many of them had probably been telling each other stories about Tony Stark and now that a small group had been called out on it by a kid, they anxiously averted their eyes and resumed quiet conversations with each other, trying to pretend like nothing had happened.

Peter was only aware of the three guys who murmured awkward apologies to Tony, before heading over to another table of food, before familiar steady hands were on his shoulders.

“Hey, pal.”

“Hi,” the kid squeaked.

A warm chuckle and a coarse hand cupped his jaw, tilting his face up so he was making eye contact. Peter didn’t know what he expected to see in his mentor’s face, his heart was beating frantically, and his mouth was dry, but all of the nerves vanished as soon as the coffee coloured eyes met.

Tony was smiling, his dark eyes twinkling like he was gazing at something extraordinary. He was clearly amused, but pride seemed to coarse through every fibre of his being. “That was a pretty impressive speech, kid. Did you rehearse it?” He remarked, voice low and warm, full of compassion and understanding.

Peter sniffed in amusement, a small smile on his face. “I couldn’t just let them talk about you like that.”

“I know, buddy,” Tony soothed (Peter hadn’t even realised that there were tears in his eyes), stroking the back of the boy’s head affectionately, fingers becoming entangled in the baby soft curls. “I don’t know what I would have done if my Spider-Baby wasn’t with me, there might have been a broken nose or two, but no. You kept me sane, dear, one of the few people who can actually do that for me,” the genius mused, gently tugging at the hairs at the back of the teen’s neck, sending shivers down his spine.

“I heard you last night, before I went to sleep…” Peter said, quietly, staring at the floor. “I feel the same.”

Tony chuckled again, but this was a weaker sound, even though it was no less fond and full of admiration for the bashful kid in front of him. Only Peter could command a room and then revert back to a shy, awkward child and not even be aware of how damn cute it was. There was a lump in his throat as Peter confessed his feelings aloud, something he had been too cowardly do to, but now it was out there in the open and his heart was brimming with so much love for his kid.

He brought his hand round to the boy’s cheek again, raising his chin and smiling, gently at the way the kid self-consciously leaned into the warm touch. “Yeah?”

Peter smiled too, his eyes sparkling with the undying trust and devotion he had in his father figure. “Yeah,” he spoke, earnestly.

“I love you too, pal, more than you’ll ever know. I’m so fucking proud of you,” Tony expressed, passionately, bringing his kid forward to kiss his fore-head and wrap him up tight. He didn’t care if anyone was watching him. This was his kid and he always came first.

Peter’s smile widened, small sniffs escaping him as he closed his weeping eyes and buried his face in the older man’s suit jacket, breathing in the comforting scents of motor oil, coffee and slight tang of aftershave immediately. There was nothing better than having his Dad’s arms around him and, although, they probably had a bit of explaining to do soon, they could just soak in the shared moment of being an eternally grateful father and the protective son.

Chapter Text

When his uncle Happy told him to hide under his bed, or in his closet, somewhere quiet and safe, Peter knew straight away that something scary was going to happen. He almost felt secure underneath his bed, where he often hid from his father when they were playing hide and seek, but he was really far from it.

The four year old heard loud noises coming from further into the penthouse and from outside, but his uncle had told him to stay and he had used the ‘adult’ voice that meant he had to listen. It wasn’t long, however, when he was spurred to action like with the games he played with his action figures, when he heard his father’s voice. His Daddy had gone away to be a superhero and Uncle Happy was supposed to look after him, but now his uncle was gone, and his father was here. If Daddy was here, that might mean that the bad guys were gone, and he could come out…

Peter crawled out from underneath his bed and almost tripped over the X-Wing fighter Lego pieces strewn across the floor in his haste to get to the door. He focused on his father’s voice, his anchor to the world which was the only thing keeping his racing heart from jumping out of his chest and running away. He hated it when he could feel his heart in his throat as it made it tricky to breathe and he needed to stay strong for his Daddy.

There was another man’s voice. He didn’t recognise it and it didn’t sound friendly. As the little one crept along the hallway, their voices grew louder and louder and when he reached the marble staircase leading to the living area, he stopped abruptly. His Daddy was there on the balcony, wearing that black band shirt with a glass of something only grown ups drink in his hand, but he was talking to a man Peter had never seen before. A man with shoulder length ebony hair and deathly white skin, but his back was to where Peter was, and the child felt a cold shudder run through his body, his little heart jolting in fear as he observed the stranger.

Even though Peter wanted nothing more than to run to his father and be scooped up into one of his warm bear hugs and feel safe and protected, something in him was screaming not to make a sound. He couldn’t go when this scary man was here, holding some kind of wizard stick like in Harry Potter and seemed to be up to no good.

Peter dropped to his knees and shuffled back so he was barely visible; only a few inches of his face could be seen, and he could watch what was taking place. He was terrified, chewing his bottom lip with his baby teeth as a nervous habit, his big brown eyes wide and alert. He wanted to cry so badly and run to his Daddy, but the nasty man might get him before he got to him and the very thought stunned the little boy into a ridged stance.

Peter continued to watch, petrified, as his father began to walk towards the centre of the penthouse where the other man, or alien, was standing.

“Not a great plan,” his father continued the tense conversation. He looked calculated and calm, but Peter didn’t like how he was walking closer to the scary man. “When they come, and they will, they’ll come for you.”

“I have an army,” the sinister response.

“We have a Hulk,” his father shot back, and Peter’s heart leapt in something other than fear for the first time. That must mean that his Daddy had met Bruce Banner and maybe he had already transformed into the Hulk!

“Oh, I thought the beast had wandered off.”

“Yeah – you’re missing the point. There’s no throne, there is no version of this, where you come out on top.” His father suddenly stopped a few metres away from the other, glass still in hand and tone full of confidence and certainty. “Maybe your army comes and maybe it’s too much for us, but it’s all on you. ‘Cause if we can’t protect the earth, you can be damned well sure we’ll avenge it.”

Peter, of course, did not understand much of the conversation but he did have to cover his mouth to hide the gasp when his father used a naughty word. He did have the occasional slip up from time to time when he was with his son, but he managed to hold back pretty well considering.

The bad man suddenly walked over to his father and Peter’s eyes bulged out of their sockets, tears forming when he pointed the stick thing at him.

“How will your friends have time for me, when they’re so busy fighting you?” The pale spoke, tapping the glowy end of the stick where his Daddy’s arc reactor was, and it made a funny clicky sound. When nothing happened, and his father didn’t react, although he did appear visibly tense, the scary man tried tapping it again and still, nothing. “This usually works,” he said.

“Oh, performance issues, you know,” his father pulled a funny face that almost made the little boy giggle, as he suddenly appeared playful and cheeky again like he usually was. “One out of five-“

The man suddenly lunged forward with ferocious speed, strong hand wrapping around his father’s throat and threw him across the room and Peter could hear him groaning as he pushed himself back up again, asking for JARVIS. The child had to squeeze his hand to his lips again to stop the cries from escaping when the man grabbed his father by the throat again and held him up.

“You will all fall before me,” the pale snarled and the boy wasn’t at all prepared for the horrifying sight of his father being thrown through the glass windows of the penthouse with tremendous force onto the street below.

He couldn’t hold in the sharp sob this time, his whining, shrill cry of “Daddy!” piercing the air just like the cut glass had seconds ago. He instantly covered his mouth again when the bad man spun around to finally come face to face with the small child crying in the corner. Before he could make one move, however, the Mark Seven suit suddenly rocketed past him, sending him to the ground in shock.

Peter’s father was now fully encased in his red and gold suit and Peter sobbed even more when he saw him alive and so close, yet the scary man still stood between them.

“And there’s one other person you pissed off! His name is Phil.” His father fired a repulsor blast at the man, who was once again knocked to the ground with a cry of pain, but not for long. It only took him a few moments to regain his senses and stand once again and that’s when Peter knew this guy wasn’t human, because the shot should have killed him.

The little boy watched on in horror, chest heaving with sobs and eyes sore from crying so much when the man rose and regarded him with a mildly intrigued expression on his cold, narrow features.

“I thought I heard your cry before, child. You must be his, I see the resemblance,” the man sneered, gripping the glowy stick tightly in his hand as he began to approach the boy, a creepy smirk tugging at the corner of his thin lips. “Let’s see if you’re father can save you now…”

“Daddy! Daddy, please! Help!” Peter screamed, terrified, falling onto his bottom and scooting backwards with clumsy hands and accidentally cutting himself on some of the glass that had ricocheted back into the penthouse from before. The evil glint in the bad man’s stark blue eyes was petrifying and he closed his eyes in fright as the man raised the stick towards him, waiting for a hit or some kind of burst of electricity…but it never came.

The Hulk burst through the remains of the window, growling in fury and Peter was startled when he was swiftly, yet carefully, brushed several metres away by one huge green fist. He watched on in amazement when the Hulk grabbed the pale man and smashed him into the floor repeatedly with so much force that it shook the whole ground and he threw him aside as if he were some kind of doll. The man whimpered in pain, lying still in complete shock.

“Y-you’re B-Bruce Banner,” Peter gasped, breath hitching as his sobs reduced a little knowing he was somewhat safe now.

The Hulk grunted, a light of recognition and something human flickering in his dark eyes as he approached the small boy almost cautiously.

“I want my Daddy, pwease…” The child whimpered, sniffling as little sobs escaped the back of his throat and he held his arms out to the big green creature. He hadn’t met him before and he was a stranger, but he worked with his Daddy and that meant he was a good guy.

The creature huffed and edged forward, offering his arm to the boy and Peter might have been hesitant in a less stressful situation, but he was too desperate to find his father. He allowed the Hulk to lift and hold him securely with one huge arm wrapped around his body, as the mutant stalked towards the edge of the roof. Peter whimpered again as they perched over the big drop from the penthouse and closed his eyes, gripping onto the thick skin of the Hulk tightly when he lunged towards the nearest tower block.

The collision was highly intensive in force and sent shudders throughout Peter’s whole body, but Banner kept a firm, protective hold on him as they jumped towards the carnage below where yellow taxis and cars were strewn everywhere and…where the other superheroes were. Thor and Captain America were here, but they were both looking up at the sky. Where was his Daddy?

The Hulk almost gently placed him on the rubble ground and Peter turned his wide eyes to Steve Rogers and the God of Thunder, donned in their famous outfits and scarred from the battle that had took place with the aliens that came out of the portal. They hadn’t even seemed to notice the duo’s arrival, eyes fixed on something in the sky and when Peter followed their eyeline, his chest clenched, and his heart stopped when he recognised the gleam of his father’s suit in the sunlight as he flew straight into the portal whilst holding something dangerous in his hands.

“NO!” The child yelled and just several yards away, where the billionaire’s bodyguard lay unconscious in the Tower, his phone buzzed with a call from his boss which would never be answered. A call from a man who didn’t think he would ever see the two loves of his life ever again after he completed his mission. A call from a man who didn’t know that his child had been at the mercy of Loki…

“No, NO! That’s my Daddy, where’s he going?! DADDY!” Peter screeched, his throat raw with his desperate, heart wrenching cries, startling the two men and Rogers came towards the little boy to steady him with strong, warm hands on his shoulders.

“Kid,” the man breathed. “I’m so sorry…” He sounded broken, just as sad as Peter was. Then, “Close it.”

Peter thrashed in the man’s strong hold like a wild thing, kicking his legs and screaming until his voice was hoarse, but then the unthinkable happened. Through the veil of tears burning his eyes, he could just about make out the form of his father falling through the portal as it closed above him.

“Son of a gun!” Rogers gasped in disbelief; everyone watching in anticipation as Tony plummeted towards the ground at a terrifying speed.

“He’s not slowing down,” Thor spoke in his deep voice, hammer spinning in his hand as he prepared to fly up and catch the metal man, but the Hulk was already jumping up from his place beside Steve and Peter. He caught Peter’s father and braced himself against the side of a building, before taking them to the ground and pushing the man’s immobile form off him.

The three raced over, Peter hardly breathing as Thor knelt over him and pulled off his father’s face plate, but his eyes weren’t open and there was blood on his fore-head.

“Daddy?” The child spoke, voice so quiet that it was hardly audible, but Steve heard it as he knelt beside father and son and pressed his ear to the arc reactor to try and detect a heartbeat. Finding none, he leant back and swallowed thickly, placing a supporting hand on the boy’s back as his sobs shuddered the little body.

“Daddy?” Peter repeated, louder. His small hands tried to shake his father’s armoured shoulders, but there was no real strength behind it. “Daddy! Wake up!” Nothing.

The next time he called his father’s name, the Hulk bellowed with him and Tony startled awake, dark chocolate eyes snapping open as he gasped and looked around.

“What the he-Peter?!” His father stared at him in complete bewilderment, gauntlet covered hand coming up to sweep the sweat coated curls out of his kid’s eyes as his thumb swiped at a couple of cuts on his face.

“D-Daddy…” Peter cried, his sobs overwhelming him as his rib cage shook and the vision of his father once more became blurred, but he didn’t care. His Daddy was here now, and he was safe.

“Hey, pal, shh, I’ve got you…I’m here…” Tony grounded out, voice rough but warm and soothing, as he pulled his kid to his chest and pressed a firm kiss to the top of his bouncy curls. “What just happened?” He directed at Rogers.

“We won,” Steve breathed, a smile forming on his handsome features.

“Alright, hey. Alright. Good job, guys. Let’s just not come in tomorrow. Let’s just take a day,” the genius heaved, sitting himself up with some difficult, Steve leaning over to steady him, so he could cradle his son in his lap.

Peter was sniffling loudly, nuzzling his sweet cherub face into his father’s armour as he clutched at his neck persistently. Tony gently pulled him back to check over his child carefully, gaze soft and doting as he smoothed the boy’s unruly hair down and delicately stroked away tear tracks with metal covered fingers.

Peter’s thumb had snuck its way between his lips and he was sucking on it for comfort, wide brown eyes staring at his father in fright. Tony had no idea what he was doing in the middle of the city, or where Happy was, but all that mattered at that moment was that his kid was in his arms where nothing bad could happen to him. He pressed a kiss to his little one’s temple and cuddled him close.

“There we go, honey, take deep breaths for me. Daddy’s got you,” he murmured, rocking them slightly as he stroked the back of his son’s head and turned his attention to the others, a charming smirk gracing his features. “You ever tried shawarma? There’s a shawarma joint about two blocks from here. I don’t know what it is, but I wanna try it and Pete’s gonna need a good feed after this.”

“We’re not finished yet,” Thor reminded.

“…and then shawarma after?”

…

Peter learned the name of the scary man, but he wasn’t allowed anywhere near Loki when the Avengers arrested him. They headed straight to a small restaurant Peter had never been to before, which was trashed from the outside and had glass all over the floor from the attacking aliens.

His father gripped his uninjured hand warmly and everyone was very quiet, too tired to speak. When they got their food, Peter was lifted into his father’s lap and he was cuddled against a strong chest, as his Daddy carefully wrapped up the glass cuts on his hand with a steady hand and then proceeded to rip up small chunks of the wrap for him to eat. The boy hadn’t realised how hungry he was until he tried the food and it was surprisingly tasty. Bruce Banner smiled when he caught the kid’s eye and nodded, as if agreeing that the food was pretty good.

Peter’s father was busy wiping his greasy hands, as well as his own, when Clint Barton piped up. “So, err…introductions?” He gestured towards the small boy watching them all with curious eyes. He felt slightly more relaxed since Nat was there and she was making funny faces at him and winking every time he peered over his father’s arm.

“Yes, do give us the name of this miniature Stark,” Thor chuckled, chugging underneath the boy’s chin playfully, earning him a little giggle as he chewed on the wrap.

“This is Peter,” his father announced, hefting him up on his lap and bouncing him a little. The way his stomach swopped when his Daddy moved him made him giggle again as his fingers tickled Peter’s sides. “He’s four and he’s been wanting to meet you band of idiots for a long time.”

“Don’t bounce him so much, he’s going to throw up!” Natasha smirked, leaning over the messy table and wiping at the sauce around the kid’s mouth with a spare napkin.

“Nice to meet you, Peter,” Steve smiled. “What’s your favourite subject at school?”

Clint snorted in exaggeration, waving a dismissive hand. “Yeah, great question for this little dude. School’s the last thing on his mind, pal.”

“Science! I wanna be like Daddy and fix things when I grow up,” Peter answered anyway, smiling shyly.

“Yep,” Tony popped the ‘p’, tearing the rest of the food into bite sized portions for Peter as he spoke. “Good little helper in the workshop, aren’t you, kiddo?” He rested his chin atop his kid’s soft curls, placing a small kiss there as he couldn’t resist the urge to hold his son close after everything that happened and everyone nearly dying. There was no way he would ever let anything like this happen again, not if he could help it.

“Who’s your favourite Avenger, kid? That’s the big question,” Clint asked, smirking.

Peter, uncertain if he really should say it in front of all his heroes, sheepishly hid his face in his hands and shifted on his father’s lap so he could lodge himself against his sturdy chest. “Daddy is,” he mumbled, feeling the vibration against his ear of his Daddy’s chest when he laughed.

“Of course,” Thor bellowed, and Peter felt a large hand patting his back. “The metal man bests us all!”

“He loves you all, really,” Natasha chimed in. “Even though Stark will never admit it.”

“Ah ah, Pete’s never going to change his mind, are you, dear?” His father pleaded in a teasing voice, holding him up so they were eye to eye. “Say I’ll always be your number one?”

“You bet!” Peter giggled again, squirming when his Dad smiled that special smile that only came out just for him and leaned in to kiss him on the cheek, his beard scratching and tickling his skin, before hugging the little boy close.

…

It was only later on when Tony found out that Happy had been knocked out cold by Loki scepter and that was why Peter had been left alone in the penthouse, but thankfully, his best friend just had a concussion and it wouldn’t take too much longer for him to wake up.

Peter, well, he couldn’t wait to tell his best friend that he had faced up against the bad guy and finally met the Avengers. Oh, and his new favourite food was shawarma for the foreseeable future…

Chapter Text

Tony Stark. A man who had everything…and nothing. He was lonely, with no body to share his mass fortune and wealth with, no body to love unconditionally and shower with affection and gifts every day. For the majority of his life he had been independent, working alone, his genius mind making gadgets and technology that the whole world could use, but the reality was that he was alone, and he ruled his empire alone.

The billionaire had only known love from his mother and their butler Jarvis, but his emotionally distant, often cruel father was a hard man to love when he never even told his own son that he liked him, even loved him. His mother was kind and gentle, but too supportive of her husband and his work to ever truly form a fully trusting relationship with her son. When his parents died, he took over Stark Industries and pioneered it to the multi million dollar company it became, owning hundreds of businesses across America and created his AI for some companionship. He had his two best friends, Rhodes from college and Happy as his personal bodyguard and he slept with women just to feel the temporary warmth of another being beside him, but it was never enough to fill the void in his heart.

The real truth was, Tony Stark craved love and the one way to finally get what he always wanted was finding a child. He didn’t want just any child, he needed someone to take over his role when he was gone, so the child had to be smart and level-headed.

He soon decided to make personal visits to schools across New York where his luxurious penthouse was, scouting the area for the perfect boy or girl he could take and love with all his heart. The simple matter of the parents or guardians didn’t mean anything to him, because he was rich and powerful enough to easily pull some strings and ensure they would never come looking for the child. Some associates of himself and Happy would make sure of it.

It was on one of these school visits that Tony finally found the perfect child for him at Midtown School of Science and Technology and nothing was going to stop him from getting what he wanted. Nothing ever stood in his way and soon it would just be him and his new son and all the love and happiness he could ever ask for.

…

Mr. Stark was here. The most powerful business man in the city, in America, was here at school.

Peter just thought it was rumours until he saw the guys in black suits come to his chemistry class and state that Tony Stark would be visiting classes throughout the day. He was looking for a student to take on as his protégée and he had yet to find the best candidate in the handful of schools he had also already paid unannounced visits to.

Peter’s best friend, Ned, turned to the other young teen with wide eyes and the whole class fell into hushed whispers of excitement and intrigue. The teacher struggled to keep them all calm and focused for the next few minutes, as this was an unbelievable occasion which had even startled him into silence.

“Dude! Mr. Stark is here, he’s actually here in our school! Oh my God, what if he chooses me or you to be his student? What do you think would happen?” Ned gushed, ecstatic.

“I don’t know, man, it’s crazy!”

Peter had always idolised Tony Stark, he was a genius and had made so many inventions. From a young age, Peter had watched the news reports in wonder and had built things with his Lego, eventually becoming a bit of a dumpster diver and made computers by himself. It was all thanks to the billionaire and the idea of being chosen to be the man’s new apprentice was too incredible to even comprehend.

“Whoa…” Ned suddenly gasped, eyes widening even more if that was possible.

“What?”

“If Mr. Stark chooses someone, do you think they’d live with him?”

“I…I don’t know…I guess it depends on the person. Maybe he’s looking for someone who doesn’t have a lot of money or doesn’t have a decent home life, because then they would deserve to have a second chance.”

Peter nibbled his lip as he thought, having no idea whether what he was saying would even apply to someone like Stark. The man did give to charities and support those in need, but he was more well known for his tech builds at Stark Industries.

“They’d have to be someone special though, I guess.”

Peter nodded, his mind abuzz with so many thoughts that he couldn’t pay attention for the rest of class and he had an inkling that every other kid in the school was feeling exactly the same.

…

The whole school was boisterous in their excitement and when word reached the boys that Mr. Stark was still here it was already lunchtime; the duo knew that he was very serious. Tony wanted a protégée and he was going to look in every school in the city and maybe even the state or country to find the right boy or girl for him. The buzz was very much alive in the cafeteria and many eyes were darting around the room, as if expecting Stark to suddenly walk in, but he never did.

Peter was in his biology class after lunch when the visitor finally made an appearance and the fourteen year-old could swear his heart was in his throat at the sight of his hero.

Mr. Stark was dressed in one of the most expensive suits Peter had ever seen and only ever seen on the news and in the documentaries featuring the man. It was a black blazer, navy blue tie, crisp white top and black slacks with shiny shoes, complimented by rouge tinted sunglasses which evoked the highest standard of class and style.

The billionaire was charismatic and charming in an instant as he interrupted the lesson, apologising and joking that he shouldn’t linger for too long as his PA needed him back at the Tower soon for business. Peter knew it was Pepper Potts he was referring to and he briefly wondered whether whoever Mr. Stark chose would be able to meet the powerful, smart woman who basically co-managed the empire.

“No problem at all, sir. I’ll just proceed with the class then, if that’s alright?” Mr. Harrington said.

“By all means, I’ll just have a wander…” Tony smiled, waving a dismissive hand to allow the teacher to continue, as his gaze drifted towards the stunned, anxious students. There were a couple of guys in black suits, not too dissimilar to the ones Peter had seen earlier, and that certainly didn’t help things.

The lesson began again, but it was impossible for any teenager in that room to really concentrate. They all wanted to make a strong impression and that meant working hard and at least attempting to appear like they were taking in everything.

Mr. Stark was true to his word. He didn’t stay for very long, but not for the reason everyone had just been told. Tony had taken his glasses off to scratch an itch on the bridge of his nose and at that moment, Peter’s gaze flickered towards the man. Coffee coloured eyes met their twins and the boy instantly looked away towards the white board, the tips of his ears turning red and a hot blush suddenly sweeping across his cheeks.

Had he overstepped? Was he going to be in trouble? Did-

“Hang on a second,” Mr. Stark suddenly spoke, raising a hand and halting Harrington in his tracks. Peter was too terrified to look up, his palms sweating and his mouth dry. “What is his name?”

His heart was definitely in his throat now and pretending to write down a fact was useless at this point.

“Oh, that’s Peter Parker, Mr. Stark.”

Peter felt his mouth drop, but he quickly composed himself and glanced tentatively back towards the front of the classroom. He froze when his gaze met Stark’s once again. The older man was observing him closely from a long distance, the corner of his lips tugging up into a smile.

“Peter…Nice name,” Tony mused, his dark eyes never leaving the boy’s and Peter could feel everyone else’s eyes on him as they all waited with bated breath. Was this it? Was this really happening? It was all moving so fast and the next thing the flustered teen heard was “Take this boy to my car, Happy, I will join you shortly.”

Eyes wide and frightened, Peter was helped to his feet by the strong man, the other bodyguard or whatever he was quickly packing his books and stationary away into his worn backpack and handed it to Happy, who swung it over his shoulder. The man had a firm grip on the boy’s shoulder, who could barely breathe as he was led down the row of desks and stared at in awe and shock by every student in the classroom.

Peter risked a quick glance behind him to lock eyes with his best friend, who appeared just as confused and stunned as he was. He whipped his head back round to face Mr. Stark, who seemed so much bigger and more intimidating when they were barely metres apart. The older man must have seen his panic, but he simply smiled at him in a way that sent chills down Peter’s spine. It was pride, as if he had just won the best prize at a competition, but he quickly turned to the Mr. Harrington and the boy had no choice but to be taken away.

Happy did not speak, he just walked them towards the front doors of the school, his firm grip never faltering for a moment. Peter couldn’t even think straight, he could only keep the image of Tony Stark smiling at him like he was someone special in his head. Someone special…that was what Ned had said to him before, but there was no way he could be that person. Mr. Stark hadn’t even spoken to him yet, what if he didn’t like him? What if he said something wrong?

Peter gasped when he spotted the shiny black Audi parked outside and it definitely had to be the second most expensive thing he had seen in the last ten minutes. Happy opened the back door and the next thing Peter knew was he was sitting on the comfiest leather seats in the nicest car he had ever been in and then there was silence, apart from the brief moment where the bodyguard placed his backpack in the boot. The man didn’t join him in the car and Peter was forced to wait with crippling anxiety for Mr. Stark to arrive.

It suddenly struck the teen what his aunt would think of this, but he felt it might be inappropriate to text her yet. He sat with a silent demeanour, whilst his mind was screaming with a hundred incoherent thoughts.

Finally, after what felt like a million years, the billionaire made an appearance. He jogged down the steps with an energetic grace best suited to a man at least twenty years younger than his forty eight years and swung the back door open, before sliding in beside the nervous teenager.

Peter could still feel his palms and underarms sweating slightly and he scrunched the cheap fabric of his jeans in an attempt to appear more at ease than he ever could be with Tony Stark sitting next to him.

“You don’t need to be scared, kid, I won’t hurt you, I promise,” Tony reassured, picking up on the boy’s fear in an instant, his dark brown eyes exuberating concern, even though the pleased smile from before had yet to leave his face.

“W-what am I doing here, M-mister Stark, sir?” Peter managed to get out, cringing at the tremble in his voice, but it somehow seemed to please the older man, whose fond smile widened at the little stutter.

“I’d like to know more about you, your teacher tells me you’re one of his top students, if not the best of the brightest bunch. So, lay it on me, Pete.” Tony turned his body towards the boy, throwing a casual arm over the headrests and it made Peter feel like he was being trapped in a cage, but the man’s infectious charm was enough to settle him to some extent.

“Umm, well I’m really grateful for your interest, t-thank you, sir…” Peter mumbled, wetting his lips and looking down at his hands. It was easier to not look into the other’s eyes. “I’m a really big fan of your work, always have been. Err, I’m interested in chemistry, physics and engineering and I like inventing things, I build computers and stuff ‘cause, I-I mean because, I’ve always wanted to be like you. M-my aunt thinks I could be one day, but we don’t have a lot of money, so I can’t build all the things I want to, b-but that’s not her fault, sir, she loves me and just wants the best for me…”

Mr. Stark hummed in thought and Peter looked up again, worried about his rambling, but it didn’t seem to bother Mr. Stark at all. He even seemed endeared by the boy’s shyness. “Hmm, you’ve certainly got a lot of untampered potential, kid. You just haven’t had the opportunities to show it, have you?” He mused.

“I guess so, but my aunt-“

“How would you like to come with me to the Tower, Pete?” Tony interrupted. “There’s a nice big room there I’ve just made up, it can all be yours. You can have your own shower, your own king sized bed, waffles for breakfast every day. Everything you ever wanted, I can give you. We can work in the labs together and you can show me how you build your computers; how does that sound?”

Peter could only stare at the man in shock for a few seconds, no incoherent words forming on his tongue as he tried to comprehend what was being said to him. Was Tony Stark, one of the most admired and respected businessmen in the whole world, really choosing him to be his apprentice? Peter Parker, a poor fourteen year-old kid from Queens with nothing to really give the man apart from a bit of expertise in science?

“M-mister Stark?” Peter squeaked, breathless.

“Yeah, kid?” Tony smirked.

“N-nothing, I’m just a bit overwhelmed, that’s all…”

Tony chuckled, reaching over to squeeze the boy’s shoulder warmly. Peter jolted slightly as it was the first time the man touched him; his hand was warm and comforting. “Don’t you worry about a thing, buddy, I’m going to take care of you now. You’re going to love your new home.”

Aunt May.

“B-but, but, I have an aunt, sir. I can’t just leave her, I have to see her-“

He suddenly stopped because the man’s kind expression instantly darkened, and smile strained at the mention of the boy’s aunt. His fingers tightened slightly on Peter’s shoulder.

“Peter, when you come with me, you will be relinquishing ties with your previous family members. You will become my heir of sorts, you will take my name and you cannot be associated with anyone else.” He spoke, voice low and sinister, dangerous and final. It was a stark contrast to the cheery demeanour that was there barely a moment ago.

“You can’t do that. You can’t just take me away from my aunt, she needs me!” Peter exclaimed, wriggling to get free from the man’s clutches, but he squeezed tighter.

“PETER!” Tony snapped, harsh and cold, frown deepening and causing the teen to freeze in fright. He was trembling a little now, but it wasn’t just fear, it was anger.

This man couldn’t just stop him from ever seeing Aunt May again, no matter how much he promised to give to him. It was only five minutes ago when Tony was promising not to hurt him, but here he was gripping bruises into the boy’s arms and forcing his will on him.

“You will not behave like this. We are going home now, and I do not want to hear anymore nonsense from you. Final warning,” Mr. Stark said. “You are my son now, Peter. You no longer have an aunt, just a father.”

Peter was still as the man carefully brushed a fallen chestnut curl behind his ear and smiled at the softness of the texture, but he was chilled to the core at just how easily the man could change his demeanour in an instant.

“N-no, you can’t, please…” Peter whimpered, tears forming in his eyes at the mere thought of never seeing his aunt again.

“Shh,” Tony gently hushed him, cupping his face and brushing away fallen tears with infinite tenderness. “It’s going to be alright, everything is going to be okay. We’ll be home soon and you’re going to have a father who will never leave you and will give you everything you ever wanted. You will be cherished, sweet boy, I promise.”

Peter was crying openly now, even as the man’s kind, devoted words warmed his heart despite the circumstances. They had only just met but Tony was professing his love for him? It was crazy, how could he be so affectionate?

“No,” Peter whined, desperately trying for the door handle, only to suddenly realise that Happy was in the front and was pulling them out of the school car park and he had already locked the doors.

“No, no, please, sir! Please, let me out!” He thrashed and sobbed, but neither gave in to his pleas. Mr. Stark’s response was to pull the boy closer to him and hold him tighter, the strong metallic scent of motor oil and cologne immediately assaulting his nose.

“Let me go, LET ME GO!” Peter yelled, kicking and screaming until his throat was raw and no-body could see the chaos from outside because the widows were tinted. A flicker in the corner of his eye brought from the reflection of the sun on something metal caused the teen to halt in his struggling for a moment.

“Thanks, Happy,” Mr. Stark mumbled, taking a syringe from the man in the front seat and the flustered teen, practically sitting on top of the man’s lap and held by strong arms, panicked and squirmed even more.

“Please, Mr Stark, don’t do it! Please!” He begged, crying helplessly, which only prompted the billionaire to softly shush him once again.

His arm was held firmly, and the needle was pushed into his skin and it didn’t take too long after that for the light to blur and his eyes to slip close, fighting finally ceased as the boy slumped fully into the man’s hold.

“Shh, there you go, sweetheart, I’ve got you, I’m here,” Tony murmured, holding his precious bundle close to his heart and dropping the empty syringe beside them on the leather seat.

He cradled his little one like one would a new-born baby, coarse hands pushing back hair that had stuck to sticky skin and gently wiping tear stains away from reddened cheeks. “I love you, baby. My Peter,” the man whispered into the small ear, lips grazing across the boy’s face and leaving a trail of kisses in their wake.

Tony knew from the first moment he laid eyes on Peter Parker that the boy was the perfect child for him. His big brown doe eyes full of curiosity and intelligence, his adorable mop of unruly fluffy chestnut curls and his eagerness to please. He was perfect, and Tony would kill anyone who dared to lay a finger on his child.

There was only one way to keep his son safe and the Tower was the best place for it with a special AI watching at all times. He couldn’t wait to show Peter his new room and the workshop where they could make their inventions together, but first, he had to get him home and in his new bed.

…

A few hours later, Peter slowly woke from his deep slumber, head tossing to the side as he stretched lazily. He had had a dreamless sleep and he almost didn’t want to open his eyes as his whole body felt heavy. The sheets were incredibly soft and comfortable…too comfy for his tiny mattress in his aunt’s apartment. Oh shit…

Peter’s eyes snapped open and he sat up, his vision slightly hazy and head feeling like it was full of cotton wool. He rubbed his eyes and blinked to rid them of sleep and slowly begun to take in his unfamiliar surroundings.

He was in a king sized bed, the sheets made of the finest material money could be and a deep navy blue with an extra layer of light blue blankets. There was a huge flat screen TV on the opposite wall, as well as what appeared to be multiple gaming consoles on the dark grey carpet. A Stark Industries laptop, which hadn’t even been released on the market yet, was set up on a modern, sleek white desk with a bookcase fully stocked of material relating to science and engineering. There was a door in the corner, which Peter could only assumed led to an ensuite, as he could see a walk in wardrobe on the other side of the room which was also fully stocked of hoodies, t-shirts, sweatshirts, jeans, shoes and everything the teen could ever need.

Peter begun to feel his chest tighten as he panicked, thoughts of what had happened before he woke up in this strange place suddenly coming back to him in a flash. Mr. Stark had taken him back to the Tower, he’d drugged him to stop him from escaping.

Speaking of Mr. Stark, Peter didn’t even have enough time to truly process his situation when the lights that were previously dimmed immediately brightened and the door opened to reveal the man who had kidnapped him.

The distressed teen squinted as the harsh light assaulted his eyes and shrunk against the headboard in fright, wide eyes fixed on the billionaire as he approached the bed. He was dressed much more casually now, clad in a black jumper with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows and dark blue jeans.

“Hey, buddy. How are you feeling? Headaches, soreness?” Tony asked, voice quiet and hushed to not startle the boy any further, as he knew this was likely to be a confusing experience for the poor kid.

“I…” He couldn’t say anything bad, because God knows what Mr. Stark would do to him. He’d already made it very clear that he couldn’t mention his aunt or his friends, so if Peter wanted to play his cards right, he would have to be the good boy. He could try and escape later, once he had assessed the place where Mr. Stark was keeping him. “I’m okay, sir.”

Tony smiled, perching on the edge of the bed within the boy’s comfort zone and he couldn’t help but stiffen at having the man so close to him, within touching distance. He vaguely recalled Mr. Stark talking to him in a soothing tone back in the car, shushing his cries and holding him like a parent would a child and it made him feel uneasy.

“That’s good, I’m glad you’re feeling better. You’ve been asleep for about five hours. Are you hungry?” Tony asked.

Five hours? He had barely eaten any lunch with Ned since they were all too busy gossiping about Mr. Stark’s arrival at the school and now he only just realised how hungry he actually was.

“A little, Mr. Stark.”

“Alright. I’ll go make us some spaghetti with garlic bread and you can have a wash and get into some comfy clothes, how does that sound?”

In all honesty, that sounded perfect. He could get a little peace and quiet. “Okay.”

Tony smiled again and stood to take something from one of the drawers in the walk in wardrobe. He came back with a folded two piece pyjama set on his arm, they were blue with little X-wing fighters all over the top and bottoms. How did Mr. Stark know he liked Star Wars? He was sure that he hadn’t mentioned it in the car. Unless, he took Peter’s phone and somehow hacked into it to see his internet history, or somehow looked him up in the short space of time he had been asleep. It was scary how personalised his new bedroom was for his own interests…

“Here you go, buddy. These are freshly washed, you can have a shower or a bath, which ever you prefer.”

“Thank you, sir…M-mister Stark?” Peter asked, hesitantly, knowing full well that it was dangerous ground he was about to tread on and he pulled his knees up to hug them to his chest as if creating a protective barrier between himself and the older man.

“Yeah, Pete?”

“Where’s my phone?”

He was right. As soon as the words left his mouth, the carefree expression instantly darkened, and he crossed his arms over his sturdy chest, pining the boy with a stern look.

“You do not need to concern yourself with that old thing, you won’t need a phone when you work with me. I don’t want you asking for it again, it has been disposed and that is the end of it. Do you understand, Peter?”

The teen swallowed, thickly and nodded, glumly, gaze trailing to the comforter. He would never be able to speak to his aunt or Ned again if he didn’t find a way to escape soon. “Yes, sir, I understand.”

“Good boy,” Tony spoke, voice warm once again and the praise made Peter blush.

There was soft movement and the teen didn’t dare look up, until he felt a rough, yet surprisingly gentle hand under his chin and his head was forced to raise to look into the man’s coffee coloured eyes so similar to his own. In other circumstances, it wouldn’t have been too unbelievable to think the two were related.

“I know this is all new to you, kid, but I promise that you’re soon going to love it here. You won’t ever want to leave, and you will find all the happiness  you could ever want, right here with me. Alright?” Mr. Stark said in a tone that couldn’t be described as anything other than soothing.

“Yes, sir,” Peter murmured, grateful when the man only smiled, clearly pleased with his submission, and released his chin.

“Good boy,” Tony repeated, turning and making his way to the door. “Dinner will be ready in about an hour, so make yourself at home.”

The door was clicked shut and Peter was left alone to contemplate the mad situation he had been forced into.

…

Dinner was a quiet affair, even though Mr. Stark did try his best to get some kind of conversation going only for it to fall on deaf ears.

Peter couldn’t believe the man was so casual after he had basically just kidnapped a kid and was acting as if everything was completely normal. The scariest part was that Tony was clearly very fond of him, too fond of him really seeing as they had only known in each other for less than a day and the guy was treating him like the son he never had. It was very strange.

The teen was almost hesitant to try the spaghetti bolognese just in case Mr. Stark was drugging him again with something, but he knew he had no other choice. Who knew what the man would do if he said he was sick. Besides, the food was pretty tasty, and an added bonus was actually being able to see sleek, modern interior of the Tower after years of walking past the luxurious building and gazing up at the shiny exterior in wonder.

He couldn’t help but wonder what his aunt was doing at that moment, whether she would be out looking for him now and had called the police. His thoughts were soon interrupted by the billionaire.

“We’ll start your lessons tomorrow, you’re going to learn so much with me, pal. We can achieve so much together, and you’ll be able to do as much tinkering as you want, there’s over fifty workshops in the Tower,” Tony spoke, enthusiastically, interrupting Peter from his dreary thoughts. He mentally rolled his eyes at the notion, even though it would be great to be able to make things in a proper scientific lab, he would much rather see May again.

The teen could only nod glumly and take a slice of garlic bread to keep his mouth occupied.

“How would you like to watch a movie when we’ve finished?”

Watch a film with his kidnapper? Boy, he was determined to spend as much time with Peter as possible. The only time they had been apart so far was when he was asleep and even then, he would never know whether the man came in to his new bedroom at any point, but that was too disturbing an idea to linger on.

“A m-movie?” He croaked, cringing again at his uncontrollable stutter and reaching for the glass of water to clear his airway.

“Yeah, you got a favourite?” Tony asked, smiling with that affectionate twinkle in his dark eyes once again.

Peter swallowed, eyes going wide as he suddenly thought of the Star Wars themed pyjamas he currently had on and how it couldn’t just be a coincidence that Mr. Stark knew he loved the films. Mr. Harrington couldn’t have told him in the short time they were chatting too.

“Star Wars, but…how did you know, sir?” Peter asked, glancing down at the little X-wings and back up again.

“I found an impressive bit of gear in your backpack, an X-Wing fighter I believe. I always loved building things too when I was your age. Oh, speaking of…” Tony reached beside him to pull out a present. “Here, thought you might like to work on this one whilst you settle in.”

Peter’s brows furrowed at the suspicious package, but Tony was looking at him expectantly, so he pushed his partially empty plate to the side and unwrapped the box.

He gasped when he realised it was a Lego set for a Death Star, something he and Ned had been wanting to build for ages but had never been able to afford the price.

Tony chuckled, warmly when he saw the stunned expression on the boy’s baby face. He was too cute for words and it only made the billionaire that more certain that he had chosen the perfect child for him. He couldn’t wait to shower his kid with presents and revel in the look of pure wonder in the teen’s eyes.

“Mister Stark! I-I don’t know what to say…”

“There’s plenty more where that came from, buddy. This is your home now and I wouldn’t be doing a good service as your Dad without treating you every now and then, eh?” Tony quirked his eyebrow, an impish glint in his eye.

The comment made Peter pretty uncomfortable, but the gesture was genuine, and he couldn’t deny that it was one of the best presents he’d ever received. “Thank you, sir.” He smiled, slightly and it didn’t go unnoticed by the doting genius.

“Which Star Wars are we fancying tonight, then?”

“Um…Empire Strikes Back?” Peter clutched the box close to his chest and his voice had a high lift which he put down to nerves.

“Great choice, kid.”

…

Peter didn’t know whether it was the drugs that were probably still lingering in his system, but he felt his eyelids dropping only about half way into the film and his whole body was sagging into the comfy cushions behind him. Mr. Stark had draped a blanket over him as well, which was just adding to the warm, lethargic feeling taking him over.

He didn’t want to let his guard down around the genius again, but it was getting harder to hide his exhaustion, especially when a huge yawn escaped him.

“Pause, JARVIS,” Tony spoke, softly. Peter didn’t even have the strength at that point to ask who he was talking to, but he could only assume that it was some kind of A.I since Mr. Stark was certainly clever enough to make his own. “Alright, buddy, it’s bedtime for you.”

It wasn’t even nine o’clock yet, but for the first time, Peter wholeheartedly agreed with the man. He definitely needed the sleep after the day he’d had.

Tony pulled the blanket off the teen, folded it and draped it over the back of the couch, before holding a hand out for the boy to take. He smiled when Peter took it without complaint and allowed the doting father to guide him to his room.

Peter was carefully laid down in his king sized bed once more and he allowed the older man to drape the blankets and duvet over his body, tucking him in like one would a small child.

He could hardly keep his eyes open and didn’t even have the heart to complain when Tony started gently stroked his hair. It was oddly soothing and easy for the tired boy to lean into the comforting gesture. He even sighed, peacefully, a tiny smile appearing on his face as he nuzzled in to the warm skin.

“There you go, sweetheart. You just close your eyes, you can sleep now,” came a soft murmur, coffee coloured eyes oozing with affection and Peter finally gave in to let his exhaustion finally claim him.

It was then that the hand in his curls stopped the calm motions and a sudden warm, yet tender pressure was felt against his fore-head. A kiss. By the time he had squinted his eyes open, Tony was walking towards the door and Peter quickly closed them again before he could turn to close it.

He was well and truly done for. Tony was never going to let him go.

…

After about a month of playing the part of Tony Stark’s perfect, obedient son, Peter decided it was time to take action.

He had done everything the man wanted him to do and never talked back, but it was definitely the most difficult when the man saved plenty of time for them to bond.

It was hard to ever fully relax around Tony, especially when after a few days he had become openly affectionate with him and showered him with praises and plenty of hugs and kisses as if he were a well behaved prize dog. It was better when they were in the workshop tinkering and both could get lost in their thoughts, which would require less talking and Peter could have time to think about his aunt and friends.

The teen was working in the same workshop with Tony as usual and he had been waiting for the past month for the older man to fully let his guard down. He knew Mr. Stark seemed to trust in him completely and had for a couple weeks now, but he thought dragging his eventual escape out might be beneficial if Tony would have no reason to suspect anything.

Peter knew that the AI, known as JARVIS, would be recording his every move and keeping Tony updated all the time when he wasn’t in the man’s sight, so he knew he’d have to be quick if he wanted to leg it.

Unfortunately, he hadn’t come up with a better way of escaping the man’s clutches in a month and desperation had overcome his best judgement. He wasn’t allowed to watch the news, but even then, Tony had the power to stop Aunt May from looking for him, so it was unlikely that Peter would ever be able to see her face unless it was in person now.

He hoped that if he managed to get away from Tony’s clutches, he could get to the apartment he used to share with his aunt and they could escape the country, so Mr. Stark would never be able to find him. It was wishful thinking, but at least it was some kind of optimism.

He patiently waited until the two were about two hours into their project work and the creativity zone had completely taken over Tony, before he quietly spoke up about needing the toilet. The nearest bathroom was on the floor below and it was just a little bit closer to the ground floor, where he could run for his life. There was a small matter of getting past the possible guards hanging about, but he could deal with that problem if he faced it.

His heart lightened when the billionaire only hummed in acknowledgement and continued working. This was his chance and he was taking it now.

Peter casually strolled out of the lab into the lift, where his legs trembled with anticipation and nerves. He was repulsed to suddenly feel guilty about taking off like this, even though he had every right to escape his kidnapper. Tony…He obviously cared about him, even loved him. Tony told him every night before he went to sleep. It would surely break the guy if he left so suddenly…

Peter was furious with himself for feeling guilty for wanting to leave. He hadn’t seen his aunt for weeks, or Ned, or his crush MJ and he couldn’t just ignore that. He had to escape, he had to. His resolve was certain, until things fell apart almost immediately.

He went to the toilet and got the lift down to the ground floor, only to run straight into Happy, Tony’s personal bodyguard and the guy who had forcibly taken him to the billionaire’s car on the day he was taken. This guy was super strong and taller than Peter.

“Hey, kiddo. What are you doing down here by yourself? Does your Dad know you’re here?” Happy asked, crossing his arms and raising an inquisitive, knowing eyebrow at the startled boy.

Peter frowned at the causal mention of Tony’s supposed relationship to him now, but he was used to hearing it all the time, so it didn’t phase him as much as it used to. “Err, yeah of course. I just told him I needed some air, you know. All those hours in the workshop, it’s a bit stuffy,” the teen lied, smiling in an attempt to appear genuine and skirt around the man, but a very familiar large hand was placed on his shoulder.

“Sorry, Peter, I can’t let you go out there until I get word from the boss. I’m going to have to take you back down to the workshop.”

Horrified that his plan had gone sour so quickly, Peter tried to pull away. “No, I was lying, I just need to go, sir. Please. I have to go see my aunt, she’s probably worried sick about me and I miss her, you’ve got to understand that, sir, please! You can’t just let him keep me like this!” He begged, panicking when he was pulled into the lift and the helpless desperation that had taken over him a month ago was suddenly tearing him apart once again.

“Come on, kid, you’re Dad’s probably worried sick about you,” Happy said, yanking him harder when he attempted to plant his feet to the ground and resist the insistent tugging on his arm.

“Please let me go, please! Please don’t take me back there! Help, HELP!” Peter screamed, turning in the man’s arms and attempting to crawl away and catch somebody’s eye. No body was even looking in their direction, although it looked like they were trying to avert their eyes as much as possible and not cause more of a scene.

“They aren’t going to help you, Peter. You belong here now, you’re Tony’s son and you need to accept it,” Happy spoke, calmly, dragging him in and pressing the button to get them back to the workshop.

“No, no, no…” Peter moaned, collapsing on the floor and shoving his face into his hands as he allowed himself to cry. All that fear, disgust and pain was unleashed, and heavy sobs wracked his whole body. “I can’t take it anymore, I can’t, I can’t do it, I can’t…” He babbled nonsensically, weakly fighting when the man lifted him up and took him back to the lab.

“Sorry, Tony, he was trying to run away. I had to bring him back before he could leg it.”

“Oh, Peter…” Tony sighed, sounding disappointed, but hurt at the same time. He approached the distraught boy, whose face was flushed with tears and soft curls sticking up everywhere as he trembled in the man’s grasp. “I thought we were good now, you’ve been doing so well, honey,” he said, wiping his oily hands on a cloth and regarding the teen sadly.

“Mr. Stark, please…” Peter whined, sniffling and whimpering as he struggling in Happy’s grip, wriggling some more when the genius cupped his face and rubbed a thumb across his cheek, cleaning the tears away.

“Hmm, I think Petey’s gonna need to spend some time in the special room, Hap.”

“W-what room?” The teen gasped, frightened as the billionaire ignored him and walked beside them silently as Happy took him back up to the floor he shared with Tony. They stopped in front of a door Peter had walked past loads of times and never thought to look in, seeing as he just assumed it was one of many guest bedrooms.

“Thanks, I can take it from here,” Tony spoke, tone serious and foreboding the young boy, who was petrified by his surroundings when Happy unlocked the room and pushed him inside.

It was a bare, white room with no proper furniture or anything close to what resembled his elaborate bedroom just a few doors down. There was a single bed and basic ensuite facilities and a pair of plain pyjamas, but nothing else.

“No! No, you can’t!” Peter wailed, attempting to latch onto the doorframe, but Tony had already anticipated this, his arms wound around the boy’s chest and he pulled him away towards the bed. Peter was so tired of crying, but he couldn’t stop the crippling sobs which teared through him, so much so that he was struggling to breathe.

The ringing in his ears was only lessened by the man’s gentle hushing in his ear as he sat them on the bed. “Come on, baby, breathe for me. Deep breaths, alright? Come on, follow me, in and out, in and out…” Tony soothed, rubbed his back warmly and exaggerating his breathing for Peter to copy.

Peter had no other choice but to do just that and he was embarrassed by his panic attack, especially as Tony was waiting patiently for him to regain his senses.

“There’s my boy…I’ve got you, buddy.” The man smiled, fingers reaching up to tenderly brush sweaty curls away from the boy’s fore-head and making no face of disgust at all.

“Pete…what you did was very bad and beyond that, it really…hurt me.” He glanced down to gather his thoughts and Peter didn’t miss the way he was held a little bit tighter. “You have to understand that I do all of these things because I care about you, because I want to see you be the best you can be. I saw it when we first met, and I knew that you would be the perfect heir for me. You’re so smart, kiddo and you can do so much if you just let me help you.”

“You’re g-going to lock me in here, aren’t you?” Peter sniffled, wiping his damp sticky cheeks with the back of his hands. He had heard all this before so many times and what scared him was that he might even be starting to accept everything Tony was telling him.

“Just for a few days.” He was squeezed tightly again, both of Tony’s strong arms wrapping around him as if he was afraid of letting him go. “I need you to learn that you belong here with me now and there’s nothing anyone can do to change that. I love you, Pete…I just wish you could see that.” He sighed heavily.

“I’m sorry…I’m sorry for trying to run away, please don’t lock me in here. I promise to be good now, I swear,” Peter spoke after a few moments, giving the man his best puppy dog eyes. They had worked in the past, Tony always seemed to sway his judgement easily when it came to Peter, apart from letting him see his friends and family again of course.

The elder certainly seemed pained judging by his sorrowful expression and the way he tried to avoid eye contact. He’d made up his mind and there was no changing Tony Stark’s mind. Peter supposed that was one quality they did share, their stubbornness, as well as their interest in science and quite a few other things too…

Tony stroked his hair back and leaned in to kiss his cheek, an intimate sign of affection from the man which Peter used to try and evade but had now accepted it just like almost everything else. Besides, it’s not like they were harming anyone, and Tony had never physically hurt him in any way. Locking him in a room was certainly the most extreme length he was going to, since the only other bad side Peter had seen from him was when the man raised his voice or used the really stern, intimidating one that never ceased to wrack the boy with nerves.

“I want you to think about what you did whilst you’re in here and remember that you will not leave this place, Peter,” Tony announced, rising and walking to the door. “I love you, baby.”

Peter only just gathered his thoughts when he saw the man standing in the doorway and he instantly jumped up to run to the door. “Wait, wait! Don’t leave me! Don’t go! Please!”

BANG!

He was truly held captive now. Crying, the teen sunk to the floor and curled into a ball. He could do nothing but weep pitifully into his jeans and wish for this whole ordeal to be over.

…

Sleep, food, wash, bed. Repeat. The cycle was endless and seemed to go on for weeks and weeks. Peter didn’t know. There wasn’t a clock in the room and his day was only separated by the one visit Tony bid him a day. He would slot food through the hatch in the door and would leave with the dishes as soon as Peter finished.

It had only been a week in real time, but it felt like a month for the hysterical teen. He begun to crave more than just seeing his captive’s face and hear his smooth voice. He was touch starved and desperate, all alone and cold in the bare room with nothing to do.

He was so delirious that he started to believe that Tony was the only one who could really look after him and mentor him. Maybe even be his father just like Tony always labelled himself as. They had enough in common for it to work and the man had no problems with always demonstrating his obvious fondness for the boy.

Peter was curled up on the bed facing the wall when the door was unlocked and opened. The light from the hallway streamed in and Tony’s shadow grew bigger as he approached the snivelling form. His heart broke to hear his son’s whimpering cries, which he was muffling by pressing his face into the pillow.

“Peter?”

No response.

Tony sat on the edge of the mattress and gently reached out to touch his kid’s shoulder, only to feel his heart wrench in agony when Peter’s sobs increased in volume. The boy eventually rolled over to face his guardian, eyes bloodshot from crying for so long.

“D-Dad,” he croaked. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry…” Whining, quivering, the teen fisted his fingers into Tony’s Black Sabbath shirt. “P-please Dad, please don’t leave me. Please take me with you, Daddy, I’ll be good! I’m so sorry…”

Tony, eyes burning, cooed and shushed the boy, stroking his wet face to rid the flood of tears. “Shh, it’s alright. It’s alright, sweet boy. I’m here now, your Daddy’s right here,” he murmured, carefully lifting his son so he could cradle him in his lap and hold him close.

He felt his heart melt with so much love for his kid when Peter instantly cuddled into him, nuzzling his damp face into the crook of his neck and clung onto his shirt with a tight grip.

“Mmm, don’t go, Daddy, please…” Peter whimpered, crying a little more and Tony proceeded to rock him, running his free hand through his son’s bouncy curls.

“I won’t, baby, you’re gonna stay right here with me,” the man promised, tugging gently at the thick strands. Peter keened into the comforting touch, making a small sound which sounded like approval.

“My sweet boy…” Tony whispered, pulling back slightly so he could kiss his son’s cheek and then kiss the other, smiling against his baby’s skin when Peter only nuzzled closer at the warm contact.

Peter was small and light for his age, so the man had no difficulty with lifting him, so he could carry him out of the room. He hoped he would never have to use that room as severe punishment again and he had a strong feeling that he wouldn’t have to. For now, he just wanted to hold his son and make sure he knew he was loved fiercely by his doting father.

The teen was still shaking slightly as Tony carried him to his lavish bedroom, whining in protest when the man attempted to sit him down on the bed. He reached out for him desperately, fingers curling in grabbing motions.

“Shh, I know, dear, I know,” Tony soothed. “You must be exhausted. I just want to get you into some comfy clothes, alright?” He was thankful that there was already a fresh pile of pyjamas where the pillows were.

Peter was obviously shattered from sleep deprivation and emotional strain, as he simply let his guardian undress him and lifted his arms when asked so Tony could slip the shirt over and then pull the bottoms up. They were the Star Wars pyjamas Peter had worn on the first night. He looked so much younger in them and Tony’s heart clenched with adoration once again. He loved his boy so much it honestly hurt, but it was the best kind of pain that he couldn’t live without.

“There, is that better, honey?” Tony asked, looking up into his son’s sweet face from where he was crouching on the carpet, hands resting on the teen’s arms.

Peter nodded, still sniffling but no longer crying. It was downright adorable when he leaned forward and wordlessly wound his arms around his guardian’s neck and leaned into him.

Tony chuckled, humoured by his son’s need for the physical contact and he felt he might melt into a puddle at the cute action. He pressed a kiss to the side of the boy’s head and lifted him into his secure arms again.

Tony walked them to the living area, thinking that Peter hadn’t eaten since his breakfast in the morning and that he must be starving. “Are you hungry, baby? Want me to make you something?”

A nod against his neck.

“I’ve gotta put you down, kiddo. You can watch a movie whilst you wait, okay?”

“Okay.” Peter nodded, watching sadly as his father walked away. He pulled the blanket beside him over his knees and requested JARVIS to play a Disney movie. Something simple and light.

He didn’t move until Tony came over with some grilled cheese and Peter’s mouth watered at the taste, suddenly realising how ravenous he was. He devoured the first two slices and his Dad laughed at his enthusiasm.

“Slow down there, buddy, they’re not going anywhere,” he chuckled, tucking an errant curl behind his son’s ear.

Peter smiled and sniffed in amusement. He was content now that Tony was close, and he leaned into the man’s warmth. Of course, Tony was only too happy to reciprocate the physical affection and he wrapped an arm around him, ducking his head to place a sweet kiss to his son’s temple.

They stay cuddled together as they watched the film and it was about three quarters of the way in when Tony could feel his kid slumping more heavily against his shoulder.

“Alright, bedtime, Petey,” he announced, softly, helping the lethargic boy to his feet and guiding him back to his bedroom. As always, he tucked him in and made sure all gangly limbs were wrapped up nice and warm.

Tony sat by his son’s head and stroked his hair, just relishing in the moment as he smiled lovingly down at the boy. “Love you, baby,” he whispered, bending to press a kiss to his kid’s cheek.

He was startled when, upon pulling away, he felt Peter lift his head to return the kiss on his cheek. “Love you, Daddy…” The boy murmured, sleepily, smiling as he closed his eyes and drifted off.

Tony touched his face, eyes watering. He’d done it, he’d actually done it. He’d found his perfect child and all the love and happiness he could ever ask for as long as Peter was in his life. Now, Tony Stark would finally be known as the man who had everything, and he would never be alone again.

Chapter Text

Peter was crazy excited.

It was Friday and he loved weekends because he usually stayed over at the Tower with Mr. Stark. He loved spending time with his mentor, especially when they weren’t doing superhero stuff and could just hang out. Of course, he loved swinging about the city, sometimes gaining a bit of help from Iron Man and turning in the bad guys, but it was even better to chill in the workshop and work on cool updates to both suits, stuffing their faces with pizza and watching films.

Peter idolised Mr. Stark, but not just because he was Iron Man and had been helping the boy with his spider powers. He also looked up to Tony, the man behind the armour, the one with the genius brain and the awesome gadgets and tech in his labs. The teen admired and respected Tony a lot, he even viewed him as a father because that was how the billionaire often acted. He was always looking out for Peter and protecting him, letting him stay over and tinker in the workshop, or fall asleep on the sofa in the penthouse.

Once, Peter had drifted off through a Netflix binge and he had woken up the next morning in the bedroom he had claimed as his own, knowing Mr. Stark must have carried him to bed. Tony was always bright and chirpy when Peter was around, always making witty jokes and having great banter with him, so weekends were a blast.

…

Tony couldn’t wait to see his kid.

Fridays were certainly the highlight of the man’s week since there was no stress or hassle like there always seemed to be during the week. He could just relax and be himself around the sweetest, kindest, cleverest kid he knew. Peter Parker had somehow seemed to worm his way into his cold heart and was there to stay.

The kid mattered to him just as much as Pepper did and that was crazy because Peter wasn’t even his. That didn’t matter though because family didn’t always have to mean blood and that’s how he saw his wonderful spider-boy, the son he never had but now always would have thanks to Peter. The boy who believed in him, who never failed to make him melt whenever he gazed at him with those big brown puppy dog eyes full of light and admiration. The boy who would be better than him and would show the world the best side of the Avengers.

Crazy Peter, his precious spider-baby he loved more than anything.

One of these days he’d have to come clean with the boy, but he never knew when the right time would be. He was nervous to see how Peter would feel about the whole thing. He didn’t want to mess anyone else up. He’d already put Pepper through so much and still, she stood by him no matter how crappy some of past actions had been.

The kid was just the same and it was terrifying. Peter trusted him, even looked up to him and maybe even loved him too, but Tony knew he couldn’t let any harm come to his son. He would always be protective, it was just in his nature when it came to the people he loved. Sometimes it did more harm than good, but he always meant the best.

Fridays were the best times for the pair. The moments where they just relaxed in each other’s company and did nothing. He couldn’t wait to feel that same uplifting, unbridled fondness for the boy once he saw him again.

…

Peter was grinning brightly when he spotted Happy in one of Tony’s super expensive black Audis.

“Hey, Happy!” He greeted, swinging his backpack in front of him as he settled in the front seat.

“Hey, kid.” The bodyguard by no means liked kids and was usually terrible with them, but he was starting to make an exception for the boy who seemed to have made quite the impression on his boss. It wasn’t exactly difficult to see why as well since Peter was a good kid and he was obviously bright. “How was school?”

“It was okay, kinda boring.”

“Oh yeah? You got any plans with Tony, then?” Happy asked with a smirk. It was definitely like Peter to be in his own world at school, especially on Fridays.

“We’re gonna try making this spicy chicken pasta recipe that Miss Potts found. She reckons we don’t eat enough home cooked food,” Peter laughed.

“You’re getting Tony to cook? Blimey, I’ve heard it all now.”

“Don’t worry, he’s got me! I help May out in the kitchen all the time. Ever since Ben, well, you know…she needs all the help she can get, and she taught me everything I know about cooking. Oh, and YouTube too.”

Happy chuckled at this. The idea of seeing his best friend at the stove and cutting up vegetables was hilarious. He was sure Tony had never cooked in his life and there was always someone else to do it for him. Pepper usually.

They were definitely up for an…interesting evening.

…

“Mr. Stark?”

“Tony.”

“Alright, Tony.” Peter smiled, sliding his lab goggles off. “It’s getting pretty late.”

“Huh…” The elder put down the tasers and checked his watch. “Oh shit. Kid, you really want to be attempting this thing now? You tired yet?”

“Aw man, we’ve got to! Miss Potts will definitely judge if you don’t at least try.” He smirked, giggling when his mentor eyed him up over the Iron Man helmet.

“Hm, good point. You still got that thing written down?”

“Definitely!” The teen pulled out the folded piece of paper Pepper had given to him last weekend from his jean pocket.

“Alright, let’s get this show on the road then.”

They didn’t clean up much, instead opting to head up Tony’s floor and get all the ingredients out for the recipe. They’d gotten so carried away with tinkering in the workshop and eating pretzels that nine o’clock seemed to have just crept up on them. It was really easy to get too involved in the creative zone, especially when working with Tony Stark in Peter’s case.

It was pretty funny they both forgot seeing as it had been their main plan for the evening, but the duo didn’t let that embarrassing fact stop them in getting on with making the meal. They didn’t bother with homemade pasta but got the spicy chicken sauce simmering soon enough.

Peter was sitting on the counter top, watching Tony stir the sauce around with a wooden spoon. He reached over to dip his finger in to try it.

“Ah ah ah! What do you think you’re doing, champ?” Tony demanded, grabbing the kid’s wrist with his free hand.

“Tasting,” Peter said, innocently, looking at him with those puppy dog eyes the billionaire could never say no to. The teen knew what he was doing every time too.

“Ha, I don’t think so, buddy. Hey, I’ve got a better job for you, wanna hear it?”

Peter only stared at him with a pout. It was too freaking adorable to a metal man with a soft, gooey heart that just couldn’t get enough of this kid.

Tony pulled the same grumpy face back at the boy to get a smile out of him and it worked.

“Thatta boy.” Tony grinned. “There’s garlic bread in the top drawer, you wanna sling that in the oven for me?”

“But-“

“Nope, control that mega craving for a few more minutes, alright?”

Peter glanced longingly at the pan, mouth watering at the tomatoey herby scent, before slipping off the desktop and heading over to the freezer.

Tony smirked at his dejected persona and turned the heat off the pasta. At least he knew the basics of cooking, Pepper would be so pleased.

Peter turned the grill on and put the garlic bread in, before grabbing a couple of glasses from the top cupboard to pour some Coke into. He needed some kind of task to occupy his mind with.

“Mmm it all smells so good…” He expressed, licking his lips and peeping over his mentor’s shoulder to watch the sauce gradually thicken.

Tony chuckled in fondness at his stubborn kid. He couldn’t resist those doe eyes any longer and he grabbed a tea spoon to take a small sample from the pan. He blew on it for probably a lot longer than necessary, before offering it to the peeping, impatient boy hovering behind him.

“Here. Careful though, it’s still hot,” he warned, realising how freaking domestic and fatherly the action was, but he didn’t care.

Peter happily accepted the spoon feed, smiling at the burst of flavour on his tongue and his mouth watered for more. “That’s awesome, ten out of ten!”

It was definitely fulfilling to think that between the two of them they had managed to come up with something at least somewhat decent and Tony had to put it down to Peter’s excellent aunt.

They eventually got everything finally served up and ready to go, the teen scraping his chair across the floor to tuck in immediately.

Tony had warned him not to eat straight away since it had just come out the pan, but he was so hungry that he tuned out the man’s concern. Peter realised his mistake soon enough, the piping hot cheese from the pasta instantly sticking to the roof of his mouth and the scorching heat followed soon after with a mouthful of spicy chicken pasta.

Peter quickly swallowed, his cheeks puffing out like a chipmunk’s as he grabbed the cold Coke from the fridge and took a huge gulp. The burn didn’t go away even after a few more drinks and waiting for the food to cool down enough, but luckily Tony hadn’t noticed the flushed cheeks and teary eyes on the boy.

Peter managed to wipe his eyes with his sleeve in the nick of time and try not to focus on the uncomfortable singe spreading across his whole mouth, before the older man looked up.

“You alright, bud? Too hot?” Tony asked, slight concern creasing his eyebrows as he noticed the alarmed expression on his kid. It was a bit of a jarring change from the jovial boy desperate to eat before.

Peter cleared his throat and faked a convincing smile, nodding. “Y-yeah, just a bit,” he laughed, nervously, reaching for the bowl of salad and scooping some onto his plate. He hoped the cool iceberg lettuce would soothe the burn, even though something deep down told him that the worst damage was already done.

“Too spicy?” Tony asked with a cocky smirk, gullible to the teen’s façade just this one time.

He was usually good at picking up on feelings when it came to Peter, because the kid reminded him so much of himself when he was hurting and tried to conceal it as much as possible, even if it was normally to no avail. It was probably the sense of achievement in successfully making a tasty meal clouding his perception this time; something he would really regret later.

“Maybe a little, but it’s still good. Definitely a step up from grilled cheese,” Peter joked, feeling marginally better now even though the roof of his mouth was on fire.

They didn’t speak much more after that, their busy days finally catching up with them as the warm meal settled in their growling bellies. They cleaned their plates and Tony couldn’t help but smile as the teen let out a huge yawn after taking his last drink.

The poor kid looked exhausted in the workshop before, even if he did a good job in making himself seem his usual upbeat self. He’d been on patrol as Spider-Man almost every night and he also had finals coming up, so it wasn’t a surprise that everything was catching up with him on a Friday night.

“Alright, pal, time for bed,” Tony announced, smiling around his glass when the kid stared at him reproachfully.

“What? But it’s only like half nine, c’mon man…” Peter attempted to finish his complaint but was interrupted by another yawn.

“It’s bedtime for sleepy spider babies,” the elder teased, reaching over to pinch the boy’s cheek playfully and comb the curls back from hanging in his eyes. He collected the dishes and piled them next to the dishwasher to sort everything out later. For now, he had a stubborn kid to get to bed first and that was a task in itself.

“Come on.” Tony wasn’t going to take no for an answer. He walked over and helped the kid to his feet, ignoring the incoherent grumbling for the time being, wrapping a supportive arm around his boy’s shoulders and guiding him to his bedroom.

Peter was obviously pretty far gone because it didn’t take long for him to lean into the man’s comforting hold and he didn’t resist when Tony sat him down to bend and take his shoes off.

“Okay, Pete. Think you can do the rest from here?” Tony asked, smiling fondly up at the teen from where he was crouched on the floor.

“Uh huh…” Peter rubbed his eyes with his closed fist, another yawn escaping. It was honestly illegal for someone to be this cute.

Tony rose from his position, cringing as his knees clicked as an unforgiving reminder of his older age.

He affectionately ruffled the boy’s hair and left him to it, closing the door with a soft click behind him. He hoped the kid was awake enough to get changed in pj’s, but it turned out that Peter’s dress sense was the least of his worries…

…

It was less than an hour later when Peter woke up in agony. It literally felt like his mouth was on fire and when he explored with his tongue, he was horrified to feel ridges of dead skin on the roof of his mouth. The pain was excruciating, and it immediately brought tears to his eyes.

The foreign feeling of the painful swollen lumps was terrifying for the lethargic boy, who shot up in bed and gingerly touched his mouth, instantly repelling at the fire against his fingertips. He sobbed uncontrollably, paralysed with fear and he was crying so heavily that he didn’t hear the warm voice until there were familiar coarse hands cupping his cheeks.

“…hey, hey, hey, buddy. Shh, shh, you gotta breathe, alright? It’s okay, shh, it’s alright…” Tony soothed, sitting on the bed beside him and gently stroking his tears away as they fell, brow narrowing in concern when the sobs only seemed to worsen.

“Hey, Petey, shh…” The billionaire murmured, voice low and affectionate as he used one hand to comb back the unruly chestnut curls from the sweaty forehead and using the other to pull up his sleeve and wipe the sticky tear tracks. “I’m here, buddy.”

“T-ony, -ony…” Peter whined, grasping at the man’s tank top desperately. His whole face was red and there was drool starting to drip down his chin.

“Tony’s here, pal, he’s here,” Tony affirmed, palming the boy’s cheeks and tucking some hair behind his ears.

“I-I-it h-hurts!” Peter wailed, heaving and crying in agony, made all the worse by his sobbing. He’d never felt pain like this.

“What hurts, Pete?” His mentor demanded, instantly on edge and a little panicked.

The kid didn’t speak, only lifted a hand and pointed to his mouth.

Tony could barely see even with the ceiling light on, but he grabbed his phone from his back pocket and turned the torch on. He carefully held the teen’s chin, shushing when Peter whined in displeasure and involuntarily tried to move his head back, but Tony kept a steady grip to stop him from moving.

“I know, buddy, I know. I’ll be quick, alright?” He shined the light into Peter’s mouth, horrified when he spotted the blisters on the roof of the kid’s mouth and the obvious peeling skin. “Shit, what the fu-kid, don’t tell me you’re allergic to something I’m not aware of?”

The poor kid could only shake his head, fingers slipping to point in the direction of his schoolbag that had been abandoned next to the dresser. He gestured the motion of writing on paper and Tony knew exactly what he was trying to say in an instant. He jumped off the bed and rifled in the bag for the notepad and pen, before darting over and handing them to Peter.

Tony sat beside him and leaned around the teen to steady his shaking hands, so he could write the message, the close proximity seeming to calm the boy a little and the Tony’s heart warmed at the feeling.

Peter appeared to be trying his hardest to stop crying, biting his lower lip and only allowing sniffles to escape, but it seemed to help when the older man rubbed his back reassuringly as he wrote.

The whole thing was already igniting strong paternal feelings in the genius, to see the kid he already thought of as his son so vulnerable and sad, so he didn’t hesitate to reach across to the nightstand and grab a couple of tissues to gently clean the boy’s face.

The note read: ‘burnt mouth on cheese, didn’t tell you, too embarrassed”.

Tony didn’t know whether it was the symptoms of the burn on the roof of the kid’s mouth or the shame of coming clean, but his cheeks seemed to flush even more that what his tears had already left behind.

“Oh kiddo…” Tony sighed in exasperation, gazing at his kid with a combination of fondness and misplaced humour. This was just typical Peter all over and he couldn’t love the boy enough in that moment, despite the less than pleasant circumstances. This kid was too pure for words.

Peter looked at him with those big puppy dog eyes, still welled with tears but he was marginally calmer now that he could explain the issue. He still looked utterly miserable though and was obviously in a lot of pain.

“Listen, buddy, I’m gonna call Dr. Cho to get this thing nipped in the bud. Just hang on a bit longer for me, alright?” Tony spoke, smiling softly as he ran his fingers through the teen’s hair.

Peter nodded, reluctantly releasing his tight grip on the man’s top and his shoulders visible dropped when Tony moved to get off the bed. It didn’t go unnoticed and it was quite amazing to the billionaire who never thought he would be a father, have a kid cling to him and need him so much like Peter did. He couldn’t describe the feeling, but it was the strongest thing he had ever felt for someone.

When Helen arrived less than ten minutes later, Tony was probably more relieved than Peter. She allowed him to sit on the boy’s other side, so he could comfort him whilst she made quick work of checking the bashful teen and diagnosing the problem.

As soon as she released his mouth, Peter immediately buried his face back into his mentor’s sturdy chest, attempting to hide his embarrassment and Tony stroked his back reassuringly once again.

“Well, what’s the verdict, doc?”

Helen smiled, touched by the clear strong bond between the two.

“Don’t worry, although the burn is serious, it can be treated easily and should heal within a couple weeks. The blisters have formed because of the bacteria impacting the epidermis tissue of the palate and we can give him non-steroidal anti-inflammatories like ibuprofen to help with the swelling. I also suggest you get an antimicrobial mouthwash to prevent any infection and he should avoid hot foods and foods with sharp edges for a little while. Stick to cold, soft foods to help with the pain, okay?”

Tony nodded in understanding. “Thanks, I’ll make sure he’s looked after.”

She smiled again. “I have no doubts about that!”

He returned it, giving her a small wave as she departed.

“Well, kiddo, you fancy some ice cream? We’re going to have to get this burn down and I’ll get you some pain killers too, alright?”

Peter peeked out from his hiding place to nod with a little smile. Anything cold sounded perfect to him and he happily let go of the man, so he could go and grab the things.

Tony’s chest warmed when he returned, as Peter greeted him with a sweet smile, one where his chocolate brown eyes were sparkling, and he just looked too damn adorable for words. He just couldn’t describe his love for Peter, but he felt it with every ounce of his being. The kid was happily reaching out for the Ben and Jerry’s tub, beaming when he noticed it was his favourite cookie dough flavour.

The elder climbed into bed beside the boy with his own pot of ice cream, the ibuprofen in hand for when Peter had finished the spoonful he had already shoved in his aching mouth.

“Mmm, that’s so good…” The teen breathed a sigh of relief, leaning his head on his mentor’s shoulder and closing his eyes in contentment as the frozen treat soothed his burn. He heard the older man chuckle fondly, before he felt a tap on his cheek.

“Better swallow these too, buddy. Come on, open wide.”

Peter took the medication without complaint and immediately scooped another generous helping of ice cream. He resumed his relaxed position, his lean body going slack against his father figure’s sturdy chest. Tony was all too glad to give in to his kid’s clinginess and cuddle him warmly, both arms wrapped around the boy so that it made eating his own ice cream pretty awkward but neither cared. They were just happy that they were together and sharing each other’s company.

“You wanna stick a movie on for a bit?” Tony asked after a few moments.

“Sure. Err…how about Harry Potter? The third one is the best.”

“Hmm, let’s see if you can convince me…You heard the kid, FRI.”

They sat and ate their ice cream in a comfortable silence for about twenty minutes, before Peter came out and said something that literally stopped Tony’s breath for a second.

“I love you, Tony.”

It was a quiet murmur into the man’s top where half of the kid’s face was buried, but it was still audible and didn’t affect the way Tony’s head and heart were going crazy. It felt like his chest was bursting and he could barely breathe with the overwhelming feeling, but God it was incredible.

He tightened his protective hold on the teen and dropped his head to press a kiss to the soft curls. “I love you too, baby. I love you so much…”

Peter settled completely then, stiff shoulders falling.

Tony nuzzled his face into his kid’s fruity scented hair and smiled, loving his crazy spider-baby with every fibre of his being and knowing Peter loved him too…well, that was all that mattered…

Chapter Text

Tony Stark, one of the richest and most famous men on the planet, was lonely.

No amount of money could buy him happiness, even if he lived a life of luxury and went to tons of parties and could basically do anything he ever wanted. He had it all handed down to him when he inherited his father’s company and even though he had never had a close relationship with his father, he still maintained the Stark legacy well with his genius inventions.

The charismatic billionaire was respected and admired by pretty much everyone in America and he certainly had a way with women. Although one night stands with beautiful ladies was obviously a source of pleasure and distracted him from his crippling loneliness for a short amount of time, it was never something that he really craved or went out of his way to get. Women were incredible, but Tony wanted something different, the company of someone who could depend on him and rely on him for pretty much everything.

It didn’t take long for the genius to realise what he needed. He needed a child. His own special little boy or girl to love unconditionally. He very rarely looked back on his childhood with fond memories, especially when it came to the rocky relationship he had with his own father. Tony had been alone for his whole life and only had glimpses of devoted love given to him from his mother and their loyal butler Edwin Jarvis. Both had supported him in their own ways and Tony would never forget that, but now that they were both long gone, he had no one.

The man who had everything, but nothing. He had it all, all the riches and fame, but no body to share it with. Jarvis had now become J.A.R.V.I.S, his personal A.I to keep him company during long days in the workshop in the penthouse and help him with his daily needs, but Tony knew what he wanted and needed. If he became a parent, his child would only be his and no one else’s. His child would only need him for basic essentials like food and a place to call home, for comfort and endless amounts of love.

He could teach his kid everything his father had failed to do for him. They could play together and hang out together like a real family and Tony would never have to face days alone ever again. It was the only way the genius could see his future, becoming a father to the most perfect little one on the planet, but first he had to find the child. He didn’t want a mother involved, as he intended to be sole caregiver, so his child would rely solely on him for everything his or her little heart needed, so it wasn’t directly on his mind to start a family with someone.

He was waiting, searching for the right child. He knew his perfect one was out there somewhere and if fate meant that they had to be together, then it was decided. Tony couldn’t wait to meet his kid and it came sooner than he expected…

…

He was on his way back from a sleep inducing board meeting for work when he saw him. He found his little boy in the middle of Queens and everything fell into place.

His bodyguard and trusted friend, Happy, was driving him back to the penthouse from a Friday evening meeting the billionaire desperately didn’t want to attend because it was a Friday and Fridays were party nights.

They stopped at a pedestrian crossing and Tony had been lounging in the back seats of the expensive Audi, gazing with little interest at his surroundings, but he instantly sat upright when he saw the kid.

The boy had to be about eight or nine, even though he clearly was small and slight for his age. He was with a woman who was holding his little hand tightly as they crossed, and it looked like she was taking him home from school judging by the rather ragged backpack the boy was carrying. He had a shaggy headful of chestnut coloured hair, with the most adorable curls and big coffee coloured doe eyes that were alight with youthful excitement as he spoke to the woman.

The boy dropped something and only realised after a couple seconds, a look of shock and panic crossing his young face as he dashed back to pick up the Luke Skywalker action figure. He suddenly appeared shy and insecure upon realising he was still standing in the middle of the road and didn’t acknowledge the very rich car waiting for him to move, his alabaster cheeks flushing cherry red as he darted back to the woman to hold her hand again.

Happy was grumbling a bit about the hold up, but all Tony in the back seat could do was stare at the child when he leant into his guardian as he began speaking to him again. The engineer turned his head to watch the two even as his driver took them away from the scene and a dozen thoughts were running through Tony’s head.

First, the kid was perfect. He was literally perfect, sweet and looked inquisitive as well as intelligent judging by the books and some kind of science experiment which had been peeking out the top of his bag. The bag was shabby and looked like it had seen better days and the boy’s sneakers had been in the same condition, so Tony could only assume that the family wasn’t particularly well off.

Second, he needed to find out everything he could about this boy and his family. If he wanted to get things organised and ready for his new son, he had to find out what the little boy liked and what he enjoyed in school.

“Happy, I need you to keep close tabs on that boy. I want to know everything about him and his home life, the conditions he lives in, the things he likes to do, all that jazz. This is a very important job, it takes priority over everything else, understood?” Tony spoke firmly.

“Yes, Boss.”

…

A couple of weeks went by and Tony was still working, but every chance he got to check on Happy’s progress with finding out as much as he could about the boy he took it.

Tony had already bought a beautiful new house out in the countryside, surrounded by forests and lakes for summer walks and isolated away from any bother. He needed a place for just him and his child to bond without any disruptions and the two storey rustic cottage with his own modern appliances installed was perfect.

Happy was very skilled at his job, having had a lot of missions to follow and keep tabs on people in the past and because most of these people were criminals, it was much easier to track a eight year-old boy. He was subtle and was soon able to get a hold of the kid’s school records by his own strictly confidential means, as well as knock out a scheduled plumber visiting the family’s tiny flat, so he could investigate the boy’s homelife and living conditions. He was able to find information easily and relayed everything back to his boss in no time.

The more Tony found out about the boy, no more his heart grew and bloomed with love. It was a foreign feeling for him, but the best phenomena he knew he would ever experience.

Peter Benjamin Parker, a nine year-old living in a small apartment in Queens with his Aunt May, was a bright well behaved boy who had an interest in all things science related as well as a passion for Lego. Happy had unfortunately found the last fact out the hard way when he walked through the front door and instantly stepped on one of the kid’s elaborate constructions.

Peter had recently lost his Uncle Ben in an ill-fated mugging and the sorrow of such a tragedy still very much lingered over the small family. Peter basically only had the bare essentials provided for his needs and education. It was clear from Happy’s reports that May did not have enough money to properly nurture her nephew’s clear genius intellect for a child so young, as his bedroom was clear proof of this. It was too cramped, and he only had a tiny bookcase with the chemistry and physics texts the kid obviously adored, as well as toys strewn all over the floor ranging from more Star Wars merch to various different Lego sets. Peter was very clever and the top of his class with high grades in basically every subject and he needed a better environment to properly advance.

Tony listened to and read everything Happy dished out with a fond smile on his face the whole time. He already loved that little boy so much and he hadn’t even met him yet. The only thing he had was the photograph of Peter in his school records and he had the sweetest bashful smile, his wild curls somewhat combed but still sticking out everywhere.

Tony just had to have him.

The man was a genius and of course he knew it was wrong to take a boy away from the only family he knows, but he had already convinced himself that he would be doing what was best for Peter. The aunt obviously loved him very much and was always doting on the boy according to Happy, but she could never really give him what he needed. The billionaire was so desperate and stubborn in his own mind that he never really considered the fact that he would be taking a child away from a woman who had only recently lost his husband.

Once Tony Stark wanted something, pretty much nothing could stop him from getting it. He was tired of being alone and now that he had finally found his perfect little boy, he couldn’t just let the opportunity past. He was already booking a meeting with Pepper to appoint her as the CEO for the company, because he needed plenty of time to help Peter settle into his new home.

Peter Parker was born to be his son; Tony was born to be his father and the genius was never one to bargain with fate. As soon as he found out enough about his new son, he was already dressing up the bedroom at the cottage to be decorated according to his boy’s interests and hobbies.

The house was ready, Tony was prepared for the joys of fatherhood and now all he needed was his child.

…

Peter was in the local grocery store helping his aunty with their weekly shop when something extraordinary happened to him.

It was just a regular Saturday, around lunch time and the store was pretty quiet. May was happy because she got a bit more pay from work, so she told Peter that he could go to the best aisle in the shop – the confectionary aisle. They didn’t get chocolate a lot, especially the good stuff, since his aunty needed to get enough ‘proper’ food for their meals and this week they just happened to be lucky!

Peter was beaming when May let him go with a ruffle of his hair and a quick stern word to not get too much, before he scampered off. It felt like Christmas when he got to the aisle, eyes lighting up with pure childlike excitement when he took in the rows upon rows of delicious chocolate. There was only one other person in the aisle, so he basically had complete freedom to search for the best brand he knew would be a perfect treat for him and his aunty when they sat down to watch a film that night.

Peter walked down the aisle, resisting the screaming voice in him to take every little thing he could see. He openly grimaced when he glanced up and saw the brand of chocolate he desired. He was already small for someone his age and he only came up to the half of the second shelf in height, so he tried to reach the bag on tippy toes, but his fingers could only scratch the surface.

Suddenly, a hand reached over his head and grabbed the sweet treat, before bringing it down to place in the startled boy’s hands. Peter jumped at the shadow that was cast over him from the blazing ceiling light above them, turning to stare up at the stranger.

Peter could barely see the man’s face because he had a black scarf that was covering his mouth, as well as some dark sunglasses shielding his eyes. He had a dark red baseball cap on his head, but apart from that, the guy looked pretty ordinary, dressed in blue jeans and a long sleeved black top rolled up to the elbows.

Peter wasn’t supposed to talk to strangers, his aunty and his uncle always told him and after what happened to his uncle, he was even more aware of that rule. He was a little scared of the man’s strange appearance, but he had helped Peter out, so he had to remember his manners.

“Thank you, m-mister…?” He trailed off, unsure what to call him.

The man slipped his glasses up to perch them on his cap and pulled his scarf down. Peter’s stomach dropped, his heart skipping a beat as soon as the whole face was revealed. “Tony.” Tony Stark smiled at him.

Peter was speechless, his mouth opening and closing like a fish as he stared at his hero. His class were taught about the billionaire and many of the genius inventions he had generously shared with the world. He was the biggest face of New York and was one of the most well known celebrities on the planet, so to see Tony Stark standing in front of him in a normal supermarket in Queens…was crazy.

It never even crossed the boy’s mind what on earth the billionaire was doing there.

Tony grinned at the stunned expression on the youngster’s face, quickly placing a finger to his lips and shushing quietly before the kid could burst.

“Wow…M-mister Stark!” Peter gasped. “I-I I’m such a big fan, sir.”

“Hey, kid. Well, I’m an admirer of you too, going for the best chocolate around these parts,” the man teased, smirking. “Where do you get such delicious taste?”

Peter giggled at his playful tone, blushing still with being overwhelmed by the whole situation and very shy. “I dunno, I guess we don’t get it a lot so it’s kind of a big thing when we do,” he mumbled.

“Ahh, very interesting. This your favourite?”

“Uh huh.”

“Good to know, it’s mine too.”

“Awesome!”

Peter grinned, and he didn’t know how much the older man desperately wanted to coo at him then. “Um…w-what are you doing here in Queens?”

“Hm? Oh, you know, a bit of sightseeing. Tony Stark doesn’t usually come to this neck of the woods, so he’s taking it off his bucket list.”

The boy giggled again. The sound was innocent and infectious.

“Oh, er…do you like it here?”

“Hmm, it’s definitely growing on me a lot.”

Mr. Stark was smiling at him the whole time and if he were someone else, Peter would have been a bit creeped out that some stranger was still talking to him, but this was so different. This was his hero, the man who had inspired him to want to do something with inventing and chemical engineering himself, so his sense definitely couldn’t be relied on right now.

“I’m Peter,” the kid blurted out, face heating up more when he realised he probably shouldn’t have said that, but Tony couldn’t look friendlier.

“Hello, Peter. It’s very nice to meet you,” Tony spoke, and it sounded like he genuinely meant it as well.

The boy would have been confused because he was just a random eight year-old kid that was being a huge fanboy, but then he was a child, so he was too busy trying to deal with the fact that Tony Stark just said that he was happy to meet him. Him! Nerdy Peter Parker who got bullied at school and was probably embarrassing himself a lot right now.

“Whoa…” Was all he could muster, staring at the genius with wide eyes and Tony chuckled, warmly.

“Listen, kid, I’ve gotta go, but don’t tell anyone I was here, alright? This is just between us,” Tony said, eyeing him over the protective shields of his glasses with a cocky smile.

“Sure!” Peter replied immediately, nodding earnestly.

Mr. Stark grinned then, reaching out to ruffle his curls and Peter could almost call it affectionate even though the man didn’t know him. “That’s a good boy. Bye, kid.”

The boy was left alone in the aisle once more. It wasn’t for long though as he only had a chance to blink before he heard a familiar voice behind him.

“Hey, honey? You okay? Did you find what you wanted?” May asked, placing her hand on his shoulder and stroking his hair back when he looked up.

“Er, yeah, I’m good,” he squeaked, holding up the chocolate and tossing it in the trolley.

“You sure?” She eyed him suspiciously. “You’re pretty warm, you wanna get some air whilst I finish up?”

“No no, I’m fine, it’s just hot in here, I guess.”

Well, the truth was too crazy to admit anyway…

…

Happy knew exactly when to take the boy.

On most Fridays, May allowed Peter to walk home with his best friend whilst she was working a late shift. They would part about ten minutes away from the boy’s flat, so there was the perfect window of opportunity to snatch him away with no evidence being left behind.

Tony was sitting in the backseat as his bodyguard drove them to the pick up point on the end of a narrow passage the kid had to walk through to get to the apartment. It wasn’t characteristic of the billionaire to be nervous, but he couldn’t stop his leg from jingling a little at the anticipation of finally being able to take his son home to that beautiful cottage that was all set up and ready for them.

Although he was anxious, the majority of his unsteady emotions were taken up by anticipation and excitement. He was finally going to be a father and he was determined to be a better parent than his own father ever was. Peter would know love and protection and safety, he would make sure of it. The boot was packed full of the final essentials, such as clothing and personal belongings that Tony wanted to take to the house, but most of Peter’s new clothes and toys were already there, so they were all good to go.

After a few tense minutes of waiting, Happy finally emerged from the alleyway with an unconscious Peter held bridal style in his arms. The man had drugged him to keep him sedated and calm, because Tony knew that the kid was likely to be thrashing around and trying to escape the car whilst on the move, therefore the drugs were given for Peter’s own safety. Tony hated the idea of his little one with a needle in his neck, but it had to be done and it was only for a couple hours whilst they made their way to the cottage.

Peter looked so peaceful and at least a few years younger when he was asleep, and the man’s heart was erratically hammering in his chest as he slid across the seats to open the back door.

Happy leaned down to pass the boy to his new father, the child size backpack slung over his shoulder looking quite silly on the big muscled bodyguard.

Tony couldn’t fully fathom the overwhelming feelings washing over him as he finally held his boy in his arms. He gazed down at his little one in awe, just taking in every tiny feature and imprinting it to memory now that he was in such close proximity in person. That trip to the store had only been a self-indulgent moment where Tony couldn’t stand the wait any longer, but it hadn’t merely been enough time to talk to his kid and now Peter was all his.

The boy breathed evenly, small puffs of air leaving his lightly freckled covered nose and there was a faint blush on his cheeks from the chilly wind. His beautiful baby soft curls were still just as unruly as when the genius first laid eyes on him and the doting father couldn’t help but smooth his hair away from his fore-head once he got them both settled.

Tony couldn’t take his eyes off the child, gaze soft and warm and filled with unconditional love as he cradled the boy’s head and stroked his face with a gentle hand.

“It’s alright now, baby. Your Dad’s here, Daddy’s got you. I promise, Peter, I will never let anything happen to you, you will always be safe with me,” Tony whispered to his precious bundle, cuddling the boy impossibly closer and pressing his lips to his child’s temple. He closed his eyes, smiling as he inhaled his son’s sweet scent. His hair smelt of apples. He would have to get shampoo that smelled like that. “I love you, baby, Daddy will always love you.”

The rest of the drive was spent with the billionaire holding his son on his lap, placing small kisses across his face whenever the boy would whine softly in his sleep. Tony couldn’t be any more at peace and content than he was for that drive to their new home.

…

It was safe to say that Peter was the complete opposite when he woke up in his new bedroom. He couldn’t be any more scared and confusion as he took in the unfamiliar surroundings with heavy eyes.

The bedroom was huge and was filled with everything he could ever dream of. The walls were dark blue and decorated with images of Star Wars characters; the big white dresser had a yellow tie fighter outline across the drawers; his bedding was grey with an image of the Death Star on; his bedside lamp was in the shape of a Storm Trooper’s helmet; there were brand new boxes of expensive Lego sets piled on the floor; a huge flat screen TV was on the wall as well a couple of video game consoles and there was a door in the room which Peter assumed must lead to an ensuite bathroom.

The whole thing was made even more unbelievable when Tony Stark walked in. Peter didn’t think he would ever see him again after their chance encounter in the store, but then his hero started talking and the boy’s whole world fell apart instantly.

Tony had kidnapped him, had taken him away from his aunty without her consent. He was in a cottage miles and miles away from New York in a bedroom which had been perfectly designed for him.

Peter couldn’t help but feel terrified of the man as he explained the situation in such a calm manner, sitting down on the edge of the bed and smiling like everything was normal. This dude couldn’t be right in the head if he thought Peter was suddenly going to accept that everything he had ever known no longer exists and that he now had a new father and would getting home schooled for the foreseeable future. That meant he wouldn’t see Ned, MJ or his aunty again. It was too much to comprehend.

“B-but, but…Mister Stark?”

“Yeah, bud?”

“I…I…” Peter stuttered, body tense and quivering a little as the man smiled at him as if he were a sky full of stars. “I c-can’t stay here, sir. I have an aunty and all my friends a-are back in Queens…they won’t know where I am. Please, I wanna go home…”

He was too scared to carry on, especially since the man’s expression had changed at the mention of the people left behind in New York and his eyes seemed to have darkened, a frown narrowing his features.

Peter curled into his blanket, wrapping his arms around his knees and staring at Tony in terror, on the verge of tears.

The billionaire edged up the bed and sighed, softly. “Peter, this is your home now. I know that this will be a huge change for you and that is why I will let some things slide as everything is new right now, but I don’t want you to dwell on people that no longer matter. You are here with me, your father, who loves you very much and will give you everything you could ever want and need. You need to start accepting that, or things might get very difficult and we don’t want that, do we, honey?”

Peter definitely heard the underlying threat in those words, despite the affectionate nickname. He had no choice but to shake his head. It was clear that words wouldn’t get him anywhere at the moment, so an escape plan might have to be his only option…

“That’s a good boy,” Tony praised, patting the boy’s blanket covered knee and standing. “I’ve laid out some pyjamas in the bathroom, you think you will alright to wash alone?”

Peter quickly nodded, mortified at the idea of the man seeing him naked. They were practically strangers!

“Alright, I’ll go and make some food. You must be hungry,” he chuckled, hearing the obvious rumbling of the kid’s tummy from underneath the duvet.

Peter was soon left alone again wondering how on earth he was going to get out of this mess.

…

One month later…

He was sitting at the top of the extravagant playground set Tony had invested quite a bit of money in, all for him.

Peter had been blown away by the whole house, as well as unnerved to discover that everything had been prepared for the arrival of a child well in advance, including child protection locks on the TV in his bedroom and the living room/kitchen. The back garden was even better, with a combination of tunnel and open slides, swings and a pool with a selection of toys to play with.

The boy had gone along with the fantasy his once idol had created for them, behaving like the good boy he was expected to be by being polite and using his pleases and thank yous. He may be eight, but he was still clever enough to know that he needed to gain the man’s trust so that he wouldn’t suspect anything.

Peter still wasn’t getting used to Tony referring to himself as ‘Dad’ or ‘Daddy’ whenever he could. He had just become numb and accepted it, even though the self-appointed title was still unbelievable to hear. The man hadn’t forced Peter to call him either yet, but it was apparent that simply using ‘Tony’ wasn’t going to be staying around for much longer.

Peter watched with moderate interest from the top of the slide as Tony scooped some leaves out of the pool. The kid still found it strange to see the billionaire complete such mundane, domestic tasks, but he supposed it was the least surprising thing he’d witnessed in recent memory.

Tony smiled at him once he noticed his kid observing. “You watching Dad, honey?” He mused, warmly, winking at the suddenly embarrassed boy who shuffled awkwardly upon being caught in the act.

The father chuckled at this, looking away to place the net down and pull the cover over the pool. Peter had slid down the slide by then and moved to the swings.

“Hey, buddy, I’ve gotta go inside for an important work call, alright?” Tony announced, walking over to his son and leaning against the frame and Peter slowed to a halt. “Can you be a good boy for me whilst I’m gone?”

Whoa, it was just going to be as easy as that.

Tony hadn’t left him on his own yet apart from when Peter had a shower or bath or went to toilet and slept, but he was always there every other minute of the day. The kid couldn’t even believe his ears. If this was the only chance he would get to escape, he had to take it now otherwise he’d never forgive himself and he missed May too much not to at least try.

He nodded ‘yes’ and only waited half of minute after the man disappeared inside the cottage before jumping off the swing and bolting in the direction of the dirt track around the front. He knew the only chance he had to find help was to try and stick to the road. Tony had told him that no body lived around the area and that there was only forest and lakes for miles, but Peter tried not to think about that as he sprinted away from his prison.

His heart was hammering in his chest, breathing ragged and heavy, fear and adrenalin consuming his whole body. He ran for so long until eventually he couldn’t anymore, chest tight and throat sore as he leaned down and resting his hands on his knees to try and catch his breath.

Peter was horrified by the conflicting emotions currently battling out inside him. He felt triumphant for managing to get away, terrified because he didn’t know where he was and how far away civilisation could be from him, but also…he felt guilty. Guilty for taking off. It had only been a month and already Tony’s emotional and mental manipulation had affected him. He felt terrible for leaving and repulsed with his own guilt.

Crying in despair, Peter lifted his head and attempted to jog a little further, stopping when he came across a fork in the dirt track. He roughly swiped at his wet face with the sleeve of the expensive designer hoodie Tony had bought him the week before. He shivered, wrapping his arms around himself as a cold breeze whipped through the valley and even though the boy had been sweating from running for ages, he suddenly realised how cold it was becoming now that the sun was beginning to set.

Peter eventually chose a path and walked instead, panicking over the fact that it must have been about an hour now since he’d been gone, and Tony’s work call probably would have finished by now. He nervously chewed on a finger as his eyes darted around the deserted forest, trying to stop sobbing but unable to find the motivation.

He was lost and alone and scared. Crying seemed pretty small in comparison.

Peter didn’t walk for too much longer until he heard it. A car’s engine. It was coming from behind. His stomach lurched, and he made the quick decision to dive into the nearest bush, but it was too late. The headlights had already come around the corner and Peter had waited too long to double check if it really was Mr. Stark coming to find him.

It was Tony’s car alright and the child was petrified as he quivered within the bushes, listening out for the crunch of the wheels as his guardian pulled to a stop and the slam of the door.

“Peter? Baby, can you come to me?”

Tony was close, but his voice…it was so fragile and broken. He had always been confident and charismatic, especially when he needed to warn Peter to behave and this was a shocking change. He almost sounded vulnerable and hurt and even though the rational side of Peter was telling him to stay hidden, there was another part of him that told him not to disobey the man any further. Tony was likely to find him anyway and running wasn’t getting him anywhere.

“Come on, Petey, come to Daddy.”

Peter swallowed, shocked to feel fresh tears burning his eyes. It was scary how easily the man’s words manipulated him and caused him to feel like he was the one in the wrong. He released the breath he had been holding, before pushing the branches away and crawling out to face his captor.

“Oh, baby…” Tony murmured. He didn’t sound angry at all, which wasn’t soothing the boy’s nerves as much as he thought it would.

The genius approached him, and Peter allowed himself to be pulled into an embrace, tensing up a little as Tony easily lifted him into his arms and held him tightly. Too tightly, as if he was afraid of something.

“Jesus, Peter, you’re freezing. Here-“ Tony placed him on his feet again, quickly shrugging off his jacket and placing it around the boy’s shoulders. The bottom of it reached Peter’s knees and it definitely looked as if he were a son dressing up in his father’s clothes, but that didn’t occur to the kid in that moment as he missed the heat.

“Come on, let’s go home,” Tony said, holding his hand out and Peter didn’t hesitate to take it, allowing his guardian to lead him to car and strap him in.

They didn’t speak on the drive back to the cottage, but Tony turned the heat on as soon as he started the engine again, so Peter could warm up. When they arrived, the boy was passive as he was led to the bathroom, where a bath was run. Before Tony left, however, he got down on one knee and caught Peter by his forearms, standing the boy in front of his ‘father’.

Peter refused to meet the man’s eyes, but he wasn’t given much choice when his chin was taken in a soft grip and he was looking into those coffee coloured eyes so similar to his own. Tony’s expression was serious and calculated, something the boy was well used to seeing, but it was also seeped in intense concern and he still appeared saddened like before.

“I want you to promise me you won’t do anything naughty if I allow you to wash by yourself. We are going to have a very serious talk once you’ve warmed up, so I want you to think about your actions whilst you’re in here. Can you do that for me, Pete?”

Numb and exhausted, Peter could only nod in agreement. “Yes, sir,” he spoke, so quiet that it was almost a whisper, but his guardian was close enough to hear.

“Good boy.” Tony’s lips quirked up for a second into a pleased smile, before he left without another word and Peter was alone again. He should have been relieved, but he wasn’t. He felt like he could be sick, but he somehow kept everything down as he took Tony’s jacket off and slipped the rest of his clothes off, before getting in the bath tub and sighing in relief when the hot water engulfed his body.

Peter didn’t stay in the bath long, because he knew Tony was waiting for him. He dressed into the soft pyjamas Tony had left for him and stopped to pick up the man’s jacket, smelling the cologne he had noticed before in the car. It was strange, but the scent somehow calmed him. Confused, he dropped the jacket on top of his dirty pile of laundry, before leaving to his adjoining bedroom.

Tony was sitting on the edge of the bed and he immediately pocketed his phone when Peter walked in. The boy looked a mess, head bowed as he nibbled on his lower lip anxiously and wrung his hands in the hem of his pyjama top. In other circumstances, Tony would have found his little one very cute for his shyness, but this was different. Peter had tried to run away and could have gotten himself seriously hurt and it was clear from the boy’s dejected persona and watery eyes that he knew that. It all must have been too much for the poor thing.

“Come here, buddy,” he requested, quietly, spreading his legs so the boy could stand between them. “Look at me.”

Peter slowly raised his head, eyes cloudy with unshed tears and lower lip trembling slightly. It was heart-breaking for the father to see his son looking so exhausted, both physically and mentally, but he needed to nip this rebellion in the bud now.

“Have you been thinking about what you did?”

A nod.

“Do you have anything you want to say, honey?”

A broken sob as the boy desperately tried to hold back his sorrows, but it was impossible. “I-I…” His breath hitched and the floodgates finally broke. “I’m s-sorry, I’m sorry!” He wailed, crying so harshly that his whole body was shuddering, and Tony didn’t hesitate to pull his son into his arms, sitting him up on his lap and cradling him close.

They didn’t speak for several minutes, as the genius wanted to give his boy time to reflect on his actions and cry it out. Plus, he got to hold his kid so really it was a win-win scenario. His heart fluttered when Peter pressed his face into his collarbone, nuzzling his little curly head there as if trying to bury himself away. If he knew that Peter was inhaling his guardian’s cologne for comfort, Tony’s heart would literally have exploded with so much love.

Once the boy’s cries had calmed somewhat and small hiccups and sniffles were now escaping him, Tony gently lifted him and walked them to the bathroom without a word. Peter was docile in his hold and the father relished the feeling of his baby in his arms, saddened that he needed to place him on the ground, but he needed to clean his kid’s wet face. Peter hadn’t cleaned everywhere in the bath, but it wasn’t a surprise considering how tired the kid looked.

Tony knelt on the tiled floor, grabbing a wash cloth and carefully wiping the tears and dirt from his son’s red face. His poor sweet boy…Peter’s doe eyes betrayed his exhaustion and mental anguish. He needed rest and comfort from a loving parent, just like any child would after a long day.

Peter…well, he was all these things, but very confused and frustrated too. He didn’t understand why he was beginning to feel safe around the man who took him away from his family and friends. He had rightfully tried to run away to escape this new life he had been forced into, but Peter could never have predicted just how wrong that action had felt. He had gotten lost even after his Da…Mr. Stark had warned him that it was dangerous out there and if he hadn’t been found, he could have gotten into serious trouble.

The boy stood passively and let Tony clean him, feeling tears spring to his eyes again when he soaked up the doting fatherly action like a sponge. Tony was always taking care of him and doing his best to make Peter feel safe, hugging and kissing him a lot. Right at the beginning, Peter hated these outward displays of affection from his kidnapper, but in the past couple of weeks, things didn’t seem so black and white. He was an nine year old boy who craved comfort after not seeing his aunty for over four weeks and it was becoming tiring to fight his guardian’s comfort.

Peter observed the man’s face, the dark eyes doting, soft and warm as he cleaned. Tony really loved him. He hadn’t even mentioned punishment for running away yet, hadn’t even looked angry when he found him in the woods. Instead, Tony was relieved. He always made Peter breakfast, lunch and dinner every day and played with him when he could be working. He even gave Peter his favourite chocolate bar every once in a while, for when he was a very good boy.

“There, sweetheart…Does that feel better?” The man asked, drawing the child away from his thoughts.

Peter’s lips twitched upwards every so slightly, small hand reaching forward to trace his father’s face, his prickly goatee tickling the boy’s skin. He felt the scratch when Tony kissed his cheek, or his fore-head and it was oddly soothing, especially when he was hugged too.

“I’m sorry for what I did…I’m really really sorry…” Peter murmured, ducking his head in shame and he shuffled his feet awkwardly.

Tony cupped his cheek and lifted his gaze. His expression was still soft and understanding. “It’s alright, baby, you don’t need to apologise again. You just got scared, we all get frightened at some point, even Daddy! I’m just relieved that you didn’t get hurt, because…I don’t know what I would do if I ever lost you, Petey, you’re the best thing that ever happened to me,” he expressed, sincerely. “Can you promise that you won’t do it again?”

Peter didn’t even hesitate to nod vigorously. “I promise.”

“That’s a good boy,” Tony praised, softly and Peter smiled at the remark. His chest always felt warm when he was praised, it made him feel good when he did something right and adults were pleased with him. It felt even better coming from Tony. “How about some warm chocolate milk before bedtime?”

Peter’s smile widened, and he couldn’t help but lean into his father when he took the man’s offered warm, rough hand as he led them to the kitchen.

The milk was great but seeing Tony’s pleased smile was even better.

…

Three months later…

“You’re leaving? You’re leaving me on my own?”

Peter had been sitting watching cartoons whilst Tony was across the sofa from him on his laptop doing work when the man suddenly announced he would need to go into the nearest city for an important business meeting.

“It’ll only be for a little while, bud,” Tony reassured. “As we’re new to this part of the country and there are employees for the company near, I need to make an appearance to keep the peace. I made a sudden move out of New York, so things need to be smoothed out. Does that make sense?”

“I guess so, but…what if something happens and something goes wrong?” Peter asked, anxiety at suddenly being left alone overcoming him.

“JARVIS will let me know straight away if anything happens, but we live in a very safe place so nothing bad can happen, as long as you promise to be good. I’m putting a lot of trust in you to be a good boy whilst I’m gone, so you will for me, won’t you, Pete?”

“You can trust me, I’m not going to do anything stupid,” Peter said, and his guardian smiled that special smile that always made him feel warm inside.

After that, Peter was left to finish his show whilst Tony went to get changed into smart clothes. The boy knew he shouldn’t be feeling so worried over his kidnapper leaving, if anything he should feel relieved at finally getting some peace, but that was the furthest thing from his mind then.

All he could think about was how strange and scary it would be to not have his Daddy here to look after him and comfort him when he needed it. He often found himself crawling into the man’s lap now when he was thinking about May and his friends, but it wasn’t good to dwell on those things anymore. Tony always made him feel better with those hugs and kisses he was beginning to crave rather than shy away from. It was just another one of those things he couldn’t explain.

When Tony returned, he went over the rules that Peter had heard before, but they were even more important now that he was to be left alone for at least a couple hours. Things like not answering the door to strangers, leaving the house, all the usual stuff.

He must have looked anxious because Tony smiled at him with compassionate eyes and reached over to stroke the curls away from his face. “You’ll be fine, don’t worry. I’ll be back as soon as possible, alright?” He cupped his son’s cheek and brushed his thumb across it, affectionately.

“Okay.”

Five minutes later, his father was gone.

…

It wasn’t okay. It wasn’t okay at all.

Peter watched a film to try and pass the time, which happened to be two hours long so once that was finished, his anxiety began creeping up again. Tony should be back soon, and it was worrying that he wasn’t already, especially because Peter didn’t even know how long away the nearest city was. He hadn’t thought to ask.

He moved to sit on the ledge by the foyer where the large windows were, so he could see the road and wait for Tony a little longer. After about forty minutes, Peter was becoming more restless and upset.

Horrible thoughts started to race through his head, imagining his Daddy in a car accident or a crazy person bursting into the meeting room with a gun. The frightening image of the man’s dead body was enough to break the boy’s demeanour and he sobbed at the thought of being left alone in a house miles away from civilisation.

He also wondered whether he had done something wrong to cause his Daddy to be gone for so long. He had been very good for ages, always saying his pleases and thank yous and doing his homework, so he didn’t really think that it was the right reason, but it was still on his mind. He cried, weakly, wanting the man more than ever and craving the safety that came with being in his father’s strong arms, protected from the world.

Peter was so desperate to feel his Daddy’s warm presence again, to be close to him and breathing in his comforting scent. There was only one way to do that, so he jumped up and ran to his guardian’s room.

…

Tony arrived home later than he would have liked.

It was his first time leaving his little boy alone and he hadn’t been able to relax fully for the entire meeting, if any of his employees noticed, they chose not to say anything. He had been gone for around three and a half hours and after a quick stop at the store, he was finally pulling up in the long driveaway leading up to the cottage.

Tony placed the shopping bags on the counter and went to go find his boy after not seeing him in front of the TV where he left him. He trusted Peter not to run away again as he had been so well behaved and seemed to be settling into his new home well now, becoming less quiet and reserved around the genius.

“Peter?” He called, looking in his son’s bedroom and not finding any sign of the boy.

Suddenly, the sound of crying reached his ears and he followed the source quickly, bursting into his own bedroom. His boy was sobbing, lying on the king sized bed with his red wet face buried in the t shirt Tony had been wearing yesterday.

“Petey?”

Peter’s head shot up upon hearing his father’s voice and the man’s heart immediately tore in two at seeing the broken distress on his little one’s face. The child sat up straight and reached his arms out desperately, fingers curling in grabby motions and if that wasn’t enough to spur the elder forward, the next words that came out of Peter’s mouth had him racing over in an instant.

“D-Daddy…”

Tony collapsed on the bed and quickly pulled the boy into his lap, wincing a little when Peter clung to him like a dying man, gripping tightly at his suit jacket and bawling. He’d never seen his kid so hysterical before, it was frightening.

“What is it, baby? What’s wrong?” Tony asked, rocking them gently from side to side and cupping the back of his son’s head to press kisses across his hairline, trying to project all of his love onto his little one.

“I…I-I thought you l-left me,” Peter stuttered out between his sobs, pressing his wet face into the man’s neck.

“Left you? Oh, sweet boy…I would never leave you, you’re mine forever,” Tony assured, sincerely, raking his fingers through the baby soft locks.

“Y-y-you were gone for s-so long! I thought you’d got-gotten hurt!” Peter wailed, clutching at the man’s shirt tighter and beginning to hiccup from the force of his sobs.

“I know, baby, I’m sorry. I tried to come home as quickly as possible, I promise. I will never ever leave you, you can always count on that,” Tony promised.

Even though it was breaking his heart to see his son so distressed like this, there was something inside him that was secretly revelling in the boy’s reaction to him only being gone for a few hours. It meant that Peter completely relied on him for everything and now that he really claimed Tony as his father, he was finally trusting the man entirely.

Tony couldn’t help but think how perfect everything was becoming now and his son was really here with him now.

Peter hiccupped some more and leaned back so he could look the man in the eye. His face was a mess, tears turning his cheeks red and hair sticking up everywhere, but he was beautiful, and he was Tony’s.

“Promise?” Peter whispered, big brown eyes so open and trusting.

Tony smiled, lovingly, cupping his baby’s cheeks and smoothing away the tears with the pads of his thumbs. “I promise, my little angel. We will always be together, and nothing will ever change that, alright?”

His son smiled and nodded, still sniffling but clearly his father’s words of reassurance were sinking in. Tony brushed a curl away from his fore-head and leaned forward to press a kiss there, lingering for a moment and then placing more kisses across his kid’s face, because he deserved to feel loved.

A sweet giggle escaped the boy and he wriggled a little at the tickly goatee scratching his skin. “Daddy, s-stop…” He weakly protested, shyness taking over. Tony chuckled, fondly, his heart glowing with the use of that word again, before pulling back, allowing Peter to rest his head on his father’s shoulder again and small hands immediately wound around his neck.

“Come on, little man, we can go and have some of the chocolate I bought you,” Tony announced after a few minutes of bliss, standing and placing his son on his hip as he walked them to the kitchen.

“Chocolate?”

The genius smiled at the childlike excitement in the kid’s tone, turning his head to press a quick kiss to the boy’s hair. “I got you your favourite because I knew that you would be good whilst I was gone. I’m so proud of you, baby.”

Peter smiled and nuzzled his face into his father’s broad shoulder, inhaling the coffee and cologne in person and it smelt even better. His Daddy was home and he would never leave him.

…

One month later…

“Daddy?”

Tony looked up from the book he had been reading, using his finger to mark the page as he made eye contact with the source of the soft, sweet voice he loved so much.

His little boy was standing in the doorway in his Star Wars pyjamas, the ones Tony had bought for him when he first brought him home, nervously playing with the hem of the top and fidgeting from foot to foot.

“Hey, buddy. What’re you doing up? It’s very late.” It was eleven and his son had been put to bed three hours ago after some warm milk and a bedtime story.

“I…I had a nightmare…C-can I sleep with you?” The question was hesitant and hushed, but the father heard it and he was already pulling the covers back in invitation.

“’Course you can, Pete, come on.” He patted the mattress in encouragement and Peter shuffled over, nibbling his lower lip and Tony didn’t think that anyone could ever be cuter than his kid.

Peter climbed up on the bed and was immediately pulled against the man’s side, where he happily snuggled in and rested his curly head on his father’s burly chest. He could listen to his heartbeat there and it was a bonus to being held in his arms.

“You wanna talk about anything?” Tony asked, quietly, nuzzling his face into his son’s apple scented hair.

“No…just missed you…” Peter mumbled, rubbing his face against the man’s chest like a cat would.

Tony hummed, fondly, raking his fingers through the curls and brushing stray strands away from his fore-head, Peter sighing in contentment and completely relaxing into the familiar hold.

“Lights off?”

“Mhmm…”

Tony asked JARVIS to do just that and slipped down the bed, hefting the boy a little higher up his chest to make them both comfortable, feeling himself getting misty eyed when Peter immediately snuggled closer. He couldn’t have imagined that the kid would become this clingy in a relatively short amount of time of being his parent, but it was such a blessing.

“Love you, baby,” Tony murmured into his son’s ear, before kissing his temple.

“Mmm, love Daddy…”

Peter was asleep then; he didn’t know his father was crying.

Chapter Text

Peter loved when his Dad got playful, especially when it was completely out of the blue and the eleven year-old couldn’t have prepared for a sudden tickle attack. The worst ones were the raspberries his Dad mercilessly laid all over his stomach, because he couldn’t escape them when his arms were pinned at his sides and he was forced to bear the whole thing.

It didn’t matter that he laughed so much that he could barely breathe, or he sometimes got a bit overheated from wriggling around a lot, because his Dad loved him. His Dad often got giddy and silly around him, not so much in public where prying eyes could see and snap some shots of the recently adopted son of Iron Man, but he was completely himself in the penthouse.

Tony Stark adopted the small orphan boy a three months ago, but they had been a family for much longer. The billionaire wasn’t one for soppy love stories or corny romances, but it wasn’t exactly an exaggeration to claim that the moment he laid eyes on the little boy with those adorable chestnut curls and sweet dark brown eyes, he knew he had become smitten instantly.

It only got better and brighter from there once he got to know the kid who had recently lost his aunt and uncle in a car crash, the poor soul who had already lost his parents in a plane crash. It was as if Peter was made for him, they were perfect for each other.

Peter was very bright for his age (Tony had to double take when the boy corrected him about his age – gosh, he only looked about eight or nine!) and was a huge fan of Tony Stark. Not just Iron Man, but all of the inventions and tech Tony had pioneered since he was Peter’s age.

The both of them just clicked and it only took about a month of knowing the boy for the genius to wonder how he had ever managed without that shining sunshine smile, or the joyful laughter and giggles, or the nights cuddling a little warm body to his chest and breathing in his new favourite scent in the world: green apple shampoo.

Peter was usually a little ball of energy, always brimming with wonder and excitement and jumping about like a baby monkey.

Not tonight.

He was happy and smiling as always when his father picked him up from school, especially when he announced that he had come top of his class for the science test, but it was clear that it had been a long day.

Tony knew that his son was often picked on by some of the other bigger boys in his class, but Peter didn’t mention anything during the sombre car ride home. He either had a good, albeit long and tiring day, or he didn’t want to bring the bad shit up. Either way, Tony chose to let it slide even if his so-called ‘Dad sense’ (as fondly dubbed by both Happy and Rhodey) were playing up something chronic.

They arrived back at the penthouse and thankfully Peter seemed to perk up a bit when they bumped into Happy at the lift. Tony’s personal bodyguard had never been comfortable with kids before Peter, but this kid just had a way of lighting up the place and warming even the hardest of hearts. Happy now took his duties as the boy’s uncle very seriously.

“Uncle Happy!” Peter grinned, racing over to the burly man and looping his lanky arms around his waist in a quick hug.

“Hey, kiddo. Good day at school?”

Peter averted his eyes and pressed his lips together, shrugging his shoulders. “Yeah, it was okay I guess.”

“Hm. I don’t believe that grumpy face,” Happy joked, chugging the boy under his chin. “Here, I’ve got something for you. Just don’t share it with your Dad, alright? He doesn’t need the extra calories.” He winked, flashing a quick glance at his approaching boss and reaching into his inner blazer pocket.

Peter’s face instantly brightened, bouncing on the balls of his feet in the most adorable way. It was just too easy to love the kid.

“Oh, oh, oh! What is it? What is it?” Peter gabbled excitedly. He always got treats from his uncles and they were different every time, so there was no guessing what this one could be.

It was a blue bag of M&Ms. Peter’s stomach growled just looking at them. He was really hungry after Flash tripped him up at school and he dropped his lunch tray and he only had enough time to share a sandwich with Ned before their next class.

“Wow, thanks!”

Happy chuckled. “No problem, buddy. Try and make them last, yeah?”

“Uh huh.” Yeah sure, nope.

“Ah, what delightful treat are we ruining my kid’s teeth with now?” Tony spoke jovially as he approached the pair.

“M&Ms!” Peter thrust the packet in his face, grinning with that innocent childlike look in his eye as he ripped the bag open and delved in.

The adults smiled.

“See ya later, kiddo,” Happy said, ruffling the boy’s hair and stepping aside so father and son could enter the lift.

Peter did offer to share his chocolate with his Dad despite his uncle’s light hearted advice, but the man just shook his head with a knowing smile that Peter didn’t fully understand. He got to eat twice as much chocolate though so that was a plus.

When they reached the top floor, Peter moved to the dining table to start on his homework and it didn’t take him very long to finish seeing as it was based on subjects covered in their test. Besides, his Dad was there planning a new upgrade to his suit and whenever Peter got a bit stuck, his Dad always knew the answer.

“Right, all done. Bored now,” Peter announced, slamming his textbook shut and dramatically slumping over the table, small pout on his lips.

“Ooof, I’m mortally wounded, kid. Literally spilling blood everywhere.”

The boy peeked out from his hidey hole in his arms and smirked. “Not of you! I’m just hungry, but it’s too early to eat.”

It was only half four.

“It’s never too early to eat, buddy. Have you met me yet?”

“Dad!” Peter snorted, rolling his eyes to play along.

“Petey pie, Dad’s hungry now and he knows when his kiddie is too,” Tony retorted in a silly voice, flicking the pen lid towards his bashful kid.

“What about snacks?” Peter asked, pushing away from the table and heading over to the kitchen. “I want Doritos.” He stood on his tippy toes to reach the cupboard where they usually stocked everything unhealthy.

Tony followed his son’s movements closely, a sparkle of mirth in his dark brown eyes as he leaned against the counter, casually folding his arms over his sturdy chest.

“Hmm, chocolate and crisps? That’s a dangerous combo, honey.”

“Aw man…then, what can I have instead?”

“We may have some raspberries hanging about somewhere,” Tony suggested plainly, eyes flickering to the fridge.

Peter completely missed the signs as always. It was really something special to watch him fall apart the moment his father got his hands on him. His boy needed cheering up and there was no cure better than this.

“Oh, in here, right?” Peter moved over to the kitchen and opened the door, brow crinkling as he frowned when all he saw was milk and everything other than the juicy red fruit.

“Dad, where’s—” He started to turn round but never got to finish his question.

“Here!” Tony surged forward as quick as a cheetah and grabbed his son around the waist, earning him a loud squeal right in his ear that only made his heart soar.

Peter was startled only for a moment when he was effortlessly lifted into his Dad’s arms, but the familiar coarse fingers were gripping his sides in all the most sensitive places and his uncontrollable laughter soon followed.

“No, no, Dad! S-stop!”

“Oh yeah? You want those raspberries now, buddy?” Tony teased, swinging his kid forward to hold him bridal style and press a kiss to his soft cheek, making his way over to the sofa.

This was by far his favourite game to play with Peter, he loved having a bit of harmless fun and making his kid laugh so much he was wheezing.

“No, n-ho, no raspberries, please!” His son begged, voice all high pitched and squeaky like it always was when he was overwhelmed and couldn’t even talk properly.

He was squirming about like a wriggly worm and shining that bright grin when his father’s fingers danced up and down his rib cage, causing him to giggle maniacally.

“Ohh, are you passing out on me now, huh, Petey? I thought you said you were hungry,” Tony mused with a cocky smirk, ghosting across the boy’s armpits and Peter shrieked, immediately locking his arms against his sides to try and stop the onslaught.

“No! I-AHH-I w-as just joking!” His kid squealed out, writhing about like a wild thing and kicking even more when Tony’s fingers slipped underneath his t-shirt and skimmed across his bare skin.

His Dad was way bigger than him and most of his body was pinning him down, so he couldn’t escape.

“Mhm, you lying to me now, pal? Raspberry monster doesn’t approve, he’s getting really hungry.”

Peter’s eyes widened in dread in his anticipated realisation, shaking his head desperately and squirming a little more. “N-o, no,” he gasped weakly.

He didn’t get a chance to do or say anything else because his Dad dove right in and blew straight on his stomach.

The reaction was instantaneous. The shrieking was dialled up the eleven and Tony wouldn’t have been at all surprised if the people on the next floor down called up thinking that someone was being viciously attacked.

Well, in a way, the poor kid was.

Tony wasn’t exactly going easy on his boy either, blowing plenty of raspberries all over his belly and gently nipping the sensitive skin. Whenever he did that, he had to duck to avoid a skinny elbow jabbing the side of his face.

Worth it just to hear his kid’s contagious laughter.

Peter squealed so adorably like a little toddler being offered a tasty ice cream sundae when his Dad snapped at the slight baby fat still visible on his stomach.

“D-ah-ad! S-stop, Daddy, please stop!” He screeched, wheezing heavily and when Tony glanced up, he saw his poor face had flushed as red as a cherry.

“Mmm, you’re lucky. He’s pretty full now, kiddo.” Tony leaned back and smiled in amusement at the flustered boy.

Not a moment later, Peter surged forward and wrapped his arms around his Dad’s neck, nuzzling his face into his neck. “I love you, Dad.”

God, he would never get used to this. It was like everything tight in his chest instantly loosened and his heart just felt so full and perfect.

“Love you more, Pete,” he asserted, smoothing the springy curls back down and kissing the side of his hot face. “You wanna order pizza with extra pickles and watch a movie?”

“Sounds awesome!”

They ordered a spicy beef and pickle pizza with a tub of Ben & Jerry’s to share, each lazily scooping a spoonful every now and then when they were watching Toy Story, even though they were both stuffed.

About three quarters of the way into the film, Tony found himself on the floor where he was answering some last minute emails. They’d seen the movie plenty of times and it was more of a comfort watch than anything else now for Peter.

Speaking of Peter, he was laid out across the sofa sideways, clearly facing a serious case of junk food crash. When Tony turned his head to see how he was getting on, he barely held back a coo when he saw Peter’s thumb was firmly lodged in his mouth.

Peter never sucked his thumb unless he was really tired and maybe a little bit sad…His eyes were glazed over with sleep, his arm supporting his head as his attention was only partially on the colourful characters zipping about the screen.

Tony had a huge dopey smile on his face as he leaned his elbow on the sofa and stroked a couple of curls away from his son’s pale fore-head. “You know, I used to suck my thumb when I was your age, especially when my Dad wasn’t around. Bad habit to break, right?”

Peter’s lips quirked slightly around his thumb and when he glanced up, those big chocolate brown orbs just melted the older man. He carded his fingers through the baby soft curls a few times, just enjoying the texture and the close proximity to his tired boy.

Peter was dropping off quickly and even though it was only seven o’clock, his father knew that he needed a good night’s sleep after an obviously terrible day.

“Up you come, spider monkey,” Tony murmured, looping his arms around the small body and carefully standing with his precious bundle. “Hold on tight.”

Peter smiled sleepily, leaning his heavy head on his father’s shoulder and wrapping his legs around his waist, arms snaking around his neck. He could smell the aftershave his Dad always used and there was the metallic tang of metal from his lab too.

He let himself relax, giving in to the slow swaying and soaking in all of his most treasured comforts like a sponge. His Dad was humming ‘Sweet Child O’ Mine’ quietly; he often sung it to Peter when he woke up from a terrible nightmare and nothing else would work to send him back to sleep.

The boy cuddled closer, rubbing his face against the soft fabric of Tony’s t-shirt.

“Sing it, Dad. Please?” He whispered, voice lifting in his exhaustion, but he released a sigh of content when his Dad began to sing in a low, warm tone.

“He’s got a smile that it seems to me, reminds me of childhood memories where everything was as fresh as the bright blue sky…”

A large, calloused hand braced the back of his head, thumb tenderly stroking the hair just above his ear as they slowly swayed back and forth.

“Now and then when I see his face he takes me away to that special place and if I stare too long, I’d probably break down and cry…”

His father carried him down the hall towards his bedroom, but all Peter was aware of was the gentle rocking of the movement and the reassuring softness of the man’s voice by his ear.

His Dad continued humming quietly as he lowered him to his bed and manoeuvred the duvet over his sprawled limbs. They didn’t bother with pyjamas because Peter’s eyes were half lidded and he was a song beat away from dropping.

“Whoa, oh, oh, sweet child o’ mine-“ Tony smoothed his son’s hair back once more and caressed his soft cheek with his thumb; the final push the boy needed before he finally fell asleep with a small sigh of fulfilment.

His father hummed the last few lines of the chorus whilst pulling the covers up over his kid’s bony shoulders, before leaning down to place a sweet kiss to his son’s cheek.

“Good night, baby. See you in the morning,” he uttered his parting words.

With one last smile full of paternal affection and a chest full of all those fuzzy feelings only Peter could spark within him, he silently left his boy to rest.