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pride is not the word (i'm looking for)

Summary:

“We really did it,” he whispers at their son’s retreating back.

“We did,” Steve nods beside him.

Then, he takes Tony’s hand in his and pulls him down the same path.

“Where are we going?”

Steve grins. “You’re going to show me your campus, mister, and we’ll make some new memories.”

------------

Or, Peter gets accepted at MIT.

Tony is a worried Proud Dad™, and Steve gets Tony to show him his favorite spots on campus.

Notes:

for the anon who requested this on tumblr! if you've read my stories before, this is veryyyy loosely connected with the privilege of loving you, otherwise it reads entirely as a standalone. hope you enjoy this product of my stress writing :)

(See the end of the work for more notes.)

Work Text:

 

 

“I still can’t believe you’re going.”

“Dad,” Peter says in a long-suffering tone, “I had recommendations from Doctor Banner and Doctor Cho, and Uncle Rhodey helped me through the whole thing. Of course I got in.”

It was true. Tony had panicked when Steve had pointed out that their son was soon to graduate high school. Every day Tony watched Peter grow up was filled with a disbelief: between the cave, the palladium poisoning, and alien invasions, Tony didn’t expect he’d get to watch Peter graduate. Prom was a far too emotional experience, but Steve wasn’t much better in holding back the tears either.

When Peter expressed interest in biological and chemical engineering – or as Tony liked to call them, the squishy sciences – it wasn’t much of a surprise given his newfound powers and his history of growing up in a household where medical bays were a necessary instalment.

Still, Tony hadn’t remembered how he went through the entire nerve-wracking process of applying. Steve wasn’t of much use either. Rhodey had swooped in with pamphlets and taken over as Steve attempted to stop Tony from threatening the admissions board.

In the end, however, Peter had been accepted on his own merit.

Bruce only gave his recommendation after a very lengthy science debate, and Tony had given Peter other options.

“If you really want to, you can even go to Harvard,” Tony had bitten back anything else he might say about the other place. There was cautious joy around Peter choosing the same school – he didn’t want his son growing up in his shadow.

But Peter had shaken his head firmly. “I’ve always known where I want to go – because of you and cause it’s the best there is.”

The entire world considered Iron Man a hero, and yet, when Peter made it so clear that Tony was his hero, well. Tony could hardly say anything to that except hug his son.

Now, as they shoved Peter’s entire bedroom into cardboard boxes for him to bring to Boston, Tony felt less sure.

“ – the classes there won’t be a breeze, I know, but Ned also got in so it’s not a surprise that I’m going,” Peter says, scrunching his nose at the pile of shirts he needs to sort through.  

“You know that’s not what I meant. I’m proud of you,” Tony makes sure to tell Peter. “I just – you’re going to be staying in a dorm and – ”

“And he’s going to miss you,” Steve chuckles, stepping into the boxed-up bedroom. “But regardless, you need to stop standing around and finish packing.”

These days, Steve trains the Avengers and Tony keeps creating new gear, but they’ve given the command to Rhodey, Sam, and Bucky. Retiring from active duty was a unanimous choice: they both wanted more time to watch their son grow, and more time spent with each other.

“I’ll call you both everyday,” Peter reassures them, “and that might persuade you to give me a little sibling.”

“Between you and saving the world, Pete?” Tony laughs, leaning easily onto his husband’s chest. “We didn’t have time for a second rascal.”

“Not when your dad was helping your troublemaking.”

Tony tips his head up to stick his tongue out at Steve. “You would have been bored without us.”

Steve ignores him, wrapping his hands tighter around Tony’s waist and tucking his chin on Tony’s shoulder as they both faced their fondly exasperated son.

“Ugh,” Peter groans, “you can make heart eyes without me. Can you help me move this box, Pops?”

“Don’t you have superstrength now?” Tony teases. He grips Steve’s arms tightly. “It’s been a long day. Your Pops is recharging me.”

Nodding solemnly, Steve agrees. “I told you to do this a week ago. I’ll help you carry them to the lift.”

“Pops? Please?”

A beat. Then, “I’m sorry, Tony.”

Huffing, Tony pulls away. “You were always weak for puppies.”

Peter’s wide eyes could pull Steve’s heartstrings more effectively than anything. Tony never imagined that he would be the strict parent, but Steve was weak for their son. In all fairness, Tony was also weak, just in different ways.

Steve plants a quick, chaste kiss on Tony’s cheek before carefully navigating the towers of boxes in the room to reach Peter’s side, and Tony watches his husband and his son – his family – shifts boxes around.

The flame of warmth that blossoms is something more than pride, something more than love.

 

 


 

 

It’s in the darkness of their bedroom, the night before they fly out to Boston, that Tony admits his fears to Steve. Adjusting to darkness after a decade of the arc reactor lighting up the room had been difficult, but every night that Steve no longer feels the cold rim of the reactor was a reminder that they were here to stay, that they were no longer one heartbeat away from death.

The darkness, however, often pushed Tony’s fears to the surface.

“What if he – what if he meets the wrong people there?”

Shifting to press closer to Tony, Steve lets Tony curl into him. “Ned got into MIT with him and MJ’s over at Harvard,” he reassures his husband. “They’ll keep him honest.”

“But they aren’t in the same dorm, and – ”

“And Peter is our son,” Steve emphasizes, “I like to think we raised him well.”

There were moments when Steve still wished to travel back in time, and nights like these, he wished it more desperately than ever.

Tony sighs, heavy and miserable. “You were a good example.”

They had gone through moments of doubt like this. When they had adopted Peter as a toddler, Tony spent most nights cycling between fear and exhaustion and wonder. Most of that fear had faded as Peter’s laughs filled the Malibu house, but returned full force after Tony’s kidnapping and the looming spectre of death that seemed to follow him all the way as they moved to New York, and fought aliens.

A sharp pain squeezes Steve’s lungs as he thinks of those dreadful moments praying for Tony to come back, and he forces himself to turn to lighter thoughts.

“I thought we agreed that you’re the best Dad in the world. Peter got you a mug and an apron saying that. I only got a shirt saying best Pops.”

Tony’s voice turns muffled when he presses even closer to Steve’s chest. “Doesn’t mean it’s true.”

“Anyone who’s seen you spend one minute with Peter would know it’s true,” Steve chides, carding his hand through Tony’s hair, hoping to soothe his husband into a calmer sleep.

Predictably, Tony lets out a happy noise at the touch, even if he still tries to argue. “It doesn’t matter if he meets the wrong people. Peter’s a teenager. He’s going to rebel somehow.”

“You said that about high school too. Look how that’s turned out.”

“Yes, but – ”

“But what if we use your house in Boston for one weekend every few months?”

“I don’t want to be overprotective, I just – ” Tony trails off weakly.

Peter didn’t know about any of these worries. All he knew was that both his parents were incredibly proud of him, and Steve had an inkling that Tony had been bottling up his concerns.

“Tony, sweetheart, we’ll discuss it with him tomorrow. I’m sure Peter is going to miss us too.”

Steve feels it when Tony finally gives in to reason. The brush of Tony’s lips against his chest sends him smiling. An incoherent mumble, and Steve continues to card his hand through Tony’s hair.

“Yeah,” he tells his husband, “our son is going to change the world.”

Another grumble.

Steve thinks of how Peter’s arrival forced them to rethink their lives, carving out the space in their hearts and filling it to the brim. He thinks of how Tony smiled brighter whenever Peter was in the room, how Tony treated his own self more kindly after learning how to care for their son.

He’s proud – so, so proud for both his son and his husband. Tony who made it this far, who clawed his way out of hell, and fought and changed and grew – something swells in Steve, fiercer than pride. Wrapping his arms tighter around his husband, he lets it wash over him.

“Yeah,” Steve agrees again. “He already has.”

 

 


 

 

The sun dawns bright on Peter’s first day at MIT. He’s bouncing as he waits for Ned to meet them by the steps of his dorm. Their boxes of clothes are set to arrive later, leaving them time to go through orientation before the arduous task of moving in.

“Be careful,” Tony reminds Peter, firmly putting his sunglasses on. It wouldn’t do for paparazzi to snatch a picture of Tony Stark crying in public.

“I’ll send you a text when the session finishes,” Peter parrots the earlier instructions.

Steve squeezes Tony’s shoulder. “What about a picture while we wait?”

That successfully distracts Tony’s nerves for a few minutes, and when Ned finally arrives to take Peter with him, Tony is jittery with worry and excitement. Peter makes it a few steps away before he turns back and launches himself into Tony’s arms.

Tony lets out a little ‘oof!’, stumbling backwards and held steady by Steve’s quick hands.

“Thank you, Dad,” Peter whispers, “and love you.” He accepts the kiss Tony plants on his cheek. “I promise I’ll be fine. No web swinging. Just learning and making you proud.”

“You’ve always made me proud,” Tony thickly sniffs.

With a grin, Peter lets go, giving Steve a quick hug too. “Take care, Dad, Pops. And get me a little sister!” he yells while running back to Ned.

Tony watches as Peter waves one last time, his own cheeks hurting from the wide smile spread there.

“We really did it,” he whispers at their son’s retreating back.

“We did,” Steve nods beside him.

Then, he takes Tony’s hand in his and pulls him down the same path.

“Where are we going?”

Steve grins. “You’re going to show me your campus, mister, and we’ll make some new memories.”

Tony thinks of how differently his life would have gone if he had met someone as kind and true as Steve earlier in his search for romance, but he doesn’t let himself wallow in the what-ifs.

Today was supposed to mark the beginning of a brighter future, so he shows Steve the spot where he first met Rhodey, and Steve places a kiss on his shoulder. He brings them to the building where he built DUM-E, and Steve kisses his hands, one kiss on each scarred knuckle. He takes them to the dorm where he stayed, and Steve presses a kiss on his temple.

He takes them to the roof of the Great Dome, the sprawling green lawn spread before them, and –

“I wish I’d met you sooner,” Steve confesses.

Tony laughs it off. “You would have hated me in my college days. Absolutely obnoxious.”

“You’d know how to get on my nerves,” Steve smiles back, “but I always liked that about you.”

“Only liked?”

Shaking his head, Steve’s smile turns into a playful grin. He reaches out and takes off Tony’s sunglasses, meeting Tony’s eyes straight on. “I love you getting on me.”

Laughing even louder, Tony prods at Steve’s arm. “Scandalous, Mr. Stark-Rogers.”

“I don’t think my husband minds,” Steve smirks.

“Your son would mind.”

“When did you get so responsible?”

“Did you know you’re a bad influence?” Tony shoots back.

Self-assured, Steve shrugs. “You know I’m the best.”

Tony pretends to consider it for another moment. He relents quickly, much preferring to tuck his head on the crook of Steve’s shoulder, staring out onto the open fields and thinking of Peter beginning his own journey, the bittersweet nights his son had to go through, that rocky journey into adulthood.

For the first time, Tony lets himself believe that it will be less rocky than his own journey. Peter had both his parents, had friends and family to fall back on. And on nights when Tony would miss Peter, he would still have Steve beside him.

Leaning up to breathe kisses along Steve’s jaw, Tony happily agrees.

“You’re the best.”

 

 


 

 

When Tony brings them back to Peter’s dorm to wait for their son, Steve kisses his lips, sweet and slow.

“A girl would be nice for our next one,” he murmurs as they break the kiss.

“She’d keep us very busy,” Tony points out.

“You’re right,” Steve hums, “I’ll be busy with you. Take you out to dates all night again.”

“Dad!” a voice disturbs their moment, “stop teasing Pops.” Peter rounds the corner, face flushed with excitement.

Tony indignantly crosses his arms. “Why am I the suspect? It was your Pops doing all the teasing.”

“Regardless,” Steve speaks loudly over him, amused, “how was your day?”

“It was so cool, we got to see all the labs and there was one with a museum of you, Dad, I took pictures, you should see – ”

The words tumble out of him in a rush. Tony has to race to keep up with the stories. His heart feels fuller than it’s ever been, and it brims even more when Peter takes his hand and starts pulling him towards the dorms, his son eager to see, to know.

Steve reaches out to take Tony’s other hand.

Tony holds on tight.

Home is home, he repeats the words Steve had said to him all those years ago.

This place had been Tony’s home for four blurry years.

Now, with his son and his husband, he finds it’s become home again, for all the different reasons, and at last, for all the right ones, too.

 

 

Notes:

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