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A loud bang throws him back to Siberia. For a split second he doesn’t know if he’s lying on the concrete five thousand miles away, or grasping the edge of his workbench with a deathgrip. Peter dropped his screwdriver on his workbench, Tony tries to tell his brain, but it’s dead set on replaying legitimately the worst moment of his life on a loop. He can feel the crisp coldness of the air, the shield digging into his ribs, through his arc reactor, so so close to his heart.
In that moment, Steve’s afraid of himself, Tony realises. And the second thought is how Tony wishes Steve would’ve used just a little more force in his swing, wishes he would’ve broken his heart literally, physically, because this… this feels like it’s worse. Especially as Steve rips the shield off of him and throws it on the floor, like he’s disgusted of it, and then. Walks away.
”Mr. Stark, are you okay?” He can barely hear Peter’s voice. It sounds like it’s coming somewhere far away. Like he’s underwater. God, not that. Thinking about water is the last thing he needs now.
”Mr. Stark? Can I — uh, is it okay if I touch you?”
Tony barely moves his head in a way that could be interpreted as a nod before his legs buckle and Peter helps him to stay upright, gets them to the rugged couch in the dim corner of the lab while Tony tries to focus on breathing. His fingers clutch at his chest and he isn’t sure if they are searching for the ring or the arc reactor.
”Mr. Stark?”
Tony swallows and tries for a smile. ”Thought I told you to call me Tony.”
He expects Peter to deflect like he always does, come up with a flurry of excuses so Tony gets to avoid this awkward conversation.
”Tony,” Peter answers instead. Tony can’t decide whether his soft tone is grating or soothing. He hates people pitying him, but. This feels more like compassion, whatever’s the difference. ”You know, if you want to talk, I’m here.” Peter’s playing with his fingers, looking at his lap. He sits on the edge of the couch, turned towards Tony. He looks up, eyes bright. ”I mean, I’m here even if you don’t want to talk! You don’t have to talk. But if you do, I can listen. I might not have the best input but sometimes it helps to talk —” Tony can tell Peter will ramble on and on until he answers or stops him.
”Thanks, kid,” Tony chokes and pulls him for a hug. Peter’s arms hang in the air for a while and Tony snorts. ”It’s a hug, Peter.”
The boy wraps his arms tentatively around him and presses his nose against Tony’s neck. Tony lets out a long sigh. ”I guess I should tell you what happened in Siberia.”
Peter thinks he’s off the hook when there’s a school wide email from the principal saying that they’re looking into someone destroying school property, asking for eyewitness accounts. He settles over the breakfast bar with his homework. He barely even registers Natasha walking in. Then.
”So your sixth sense works with surveillance cameras,” Natasha says, apropos of nothing and picks a grape to pop in her mouth over Peter’s shoulder before sitting down and kicking her feet on the dining table.
Peter hums, staring at his math equations intently, squeezing his pen until he can hear the plastic creaking. ”What do you mean, Nat?”
Natasha sighs. ”We need to work on your acting skills,” she looks heavenwards. ”Gods, I can’t believe you kept Spider-Man a secret so long. How dense is May?”
The only reason why Peter doesn’t defend his aunt is because he knows Natasha has a crush on her. Or May has a crush. Or they both do, but they do nothing about it, just run in circles around each other and Tony once said that May is a gift since he has never seen Natasha as awkward as she is with May, scratch that, he has never seen Natasha awkward, full stop. They’re a thing that isn’t a thing that everyone knows about but knows not to talk about and anyway Peter knows he can’t deflect when talking with Natasha, not even with May.
Still, ”I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
”Rhodes,” Natasha calls out and Peter knows he should’ve just taken what was coming with her. The whir of Rhodey’s leg braces sounds like impending doom.
”What’s up?” Rhodey asks, walking in the kitchen. Peter keeps staring at his homework. ”You need help with calculus, buddy?”
”Peter vandalised all the Captain America educational VHS tapes he could find in Midtown.”
”You did what?” Rhodey sounds so scandalised Peter would laugh if he wasn’t feeling so betrayed.
”How do you know!” Peter exclaims, slams his pen down and gets up from his bar stool with such haste he almost upends it, would have if he didn’t have his preternatural reflexes. He can feel his cheeks heating up as he stares at Natasha. She pulls her legs down from the tabletop and leans her elbows over instead.
”She’s Black Widow. Wouldn’t question it, kid.”
”So…” Natasha prompts.
”I hate him,” Peter says, because there’s nothing else to defend himself with. He wants to break so much more than stupid tapes they watch in gym class and health education and detention. ”I hate him!”
”Tony told you about Siberia, then,” Rhodey hums as he sits across Natasha. It feels even more like an intervention. Peter reminds himself how cathartic it felt to break the casings in two, to rip the tapes in shreds. That hypocritical preaching bastard.
”Why are you so calm!”
”Because we had our freakouts when Tony was in the hospital.”
”I didn’t freak out,” Natasha sniffs.
”You did, your eye was super twitchy.”
Peter swallows. ”He was in the hospital? He didn’t say anything about a hospital!”
”Shit,” Rhodey curses, rubbing the bridge of his nose.
Before Peter has a meltdown and/or leaves to find Tony (to demand answers or to make sure he’s okay, even though Siberia was two years ago and he was fine before Peter heard he had been hospitalised, Peter doesn’t know), Natasha sets a tote bag on the table.
”You missed these.”
”Nat!” Rhodey hisses.
”When you’re done with them, we’ll get to the gym,” Natasha says with a tone that offers no alternatives. Peter goes to grab the bag. ”Am I clear?”
”Crystal, ma’am,” Peter answers and dares to smile.
”Sit down, Pete,” she says, her tone suddenly softer and pulls out a couple of scissors, offering one of them to Rhodey. ”You don’t mind sharing, do you?”
”Sure,” he answers, pulling a chair next to her.
”Destruction of stolen property,” Rhodey says dubiously.
”We won’t tell if you won’t,” Natasha gives him a charming grin. Rhodey sighs and takes the scissors.
When Tony gets to know about Peter’s near-death-experience, there are no educational VHS tapes to ruin and the Vulture has already been sitting in prison for a good while.
There’s some supervillain that attacks specifically because Clint’s in town. It comes as a surprise, as these things tend to do. She uses some kind of an EMP in the Tower lobby, shutting down all power. Peter knows something’s wrong as the elevator suddenly stops and the lights flicker shut, leaving him in darkness.
”FRIDAY?” Peter calls out. He pushes the buttons, but nothing happens. Then the fighting starts. He’s on the 12th floor and he can hear screaming all the way down. He can hear the elevator powering again, tries to open the door but it doesn’t work. The screen shows a red text saying REBOOTING. There’s a gunshot and that spurs him to action.
Peter tries to wrench the doors open, but even with his superstrength, he can barely move them. ”Hey, FRI? You with me?” There’s no answer still. Peter curses. Seems like his only option is to use the hatch in the ceiling.
The elevator shaft is even darker, only lighted by sparse blue lights. Peter looks over the edge into the deep abyss and takes a deep breath. It seems like the other elevator is somewhere up, he should be able to get down through the shaft — given the backup generators don’t come online and send the elevator down to crush him.
Good thing is, he wears his webshooters everywhere so he can get down quick and easy. Closer to the lobby, it sounds like at least Clint and Natasha got there. He can hear how the villain goes on a tirade about her personal grievances, until she’s stopped by the thwish of an arrow.
”Rude, Mr. Barton!” she screams, followed by seven gunshots.
Peter’s sticking on the wall, staring at the elevator doors in front of him. He realises that he didn’t account for this fact — he couldn’t open them earlier and even if that’s a sample size of one, he’s not hopeful it’s different with these ones. That leaves him with staying in the elevator shaft and getting crushed after the power comes back online, or going in the vents since there’s another hatch on the far wall behind him. Clint seems to like vents, Peter tells himself. It’s not a big deal.
Turns out, it kind of is a big deal.
He crawls through the back office space, trying to find a good place to exit. All the vents seem too small, and he’s dying to get out.
It takes a while until they’re done fighting and the situation calms down enough for anyone to hear his banging. His palms hurt and there’s no air to breathe. His throat feels hoarse, but he still keeps crying out for help.
”Peter?” Natasha’s voice calls and Peter doesn’t know if the sound he makes is a laugh or a sob.
”Yeah, I’m kind of stuck here!”
”Didn’t I tell you to avoid the vents on the first floor?” Clint shouts to him, clearly grinning.
”Yeah, thanks!” Peter yells back, his voice shaky and wet. He hopes his voice is too unclear for anyone to hear that he’s maybe kind of crying.
”Shit,” Clint curses and Peter can wholeheartedly agree. ”Where’s Stark?” he calls out.
Tony ends up shooting an opening for Peter with his repulsor. "Add that to the list of things that I need to fix around here. Or well, pay someone to fix," he says as Peter crawls out.
"I'm sorry!" Peter cries.
"Woah, it's okay, kid. I was just joking! No need to cry," Tony reassures him and Peter can see how he glances at Natasha and Clint, trying to get their support or input as Peter wipes snot from his face on his sleeve. Natasha gives Tony an exasperated look and nods towards Peter. Tony's out of his suit and hugging him to his chest in a split second.
"It's not it, Tony," Peter tells him quietly, fingers sticking to the back of Tony's under armour.
"Okay…" Tony says tentatively. "So, what is it then?"
He pushes Peter to an arm’s length and wipes his tears. Peter tries to unstuck himself but apparently his powers don’t listen to him, so they’re kind of in an awkward position, but Tony doesn’t seem to mind. He just leaves his palms on Peter’s shoulders, thumbs rubbing comforting circles on his collarbones.
”Uhm.” Peter doesn’t even know where to start — he never wanted Tony to know about this particular failure. He looks down, stares rather at the arc reactor nano casing over Tony’s shirt than meets his gaze. ”When I was fighting the Vulture, he might’ve… sort of, you know, dropped a building on me. So, I was stuck for a while before I lifted it off and went to stop him, and now I’m not exactly a fan of small spaces. There.” His voice is kind of frantic. He just wants to get it out, get his lecture and go see if May would be up for hot chocolate and cuddles.
Tony audibly swallows. ”I — Why didn’t I know about this? There was nothing about it in Karen’s data, why didn’t she call for help? FRIDAY?”
”I didn’t have the suit,” Peter says before FRIDAY can answer.
”You… Oh. Fuck.”
”Yeah.” Peter bites his lip. Tony inhales and he closes his eyes, waiting for the rant.
”I’m sorry,” Tony says instead and Peter’s eyes shoot open. He stares at his mentor in shock. ”I’m so sorry, kid.”
Tony’s hands drop from Peter’s shoulders. For a moment Peter’s sure he’s going to leave, and maybe he actually would have, but then Natasha steps in wordlessly and effectively pushes Tony back to him before hugging them both. ”You can make all the suits in the world, but later,” she whispers to Tony and pushes her fingers in his hair while she squeezes the nape of Peter’s neck.
”You’re okay, malyshka,” she tells Peter and presses her lips to his crown. Tony’s hugs feel meaningful whereas May gives the best hugs in the world, but Peter has to admit, Natasha’s hugs come pretty close, too.
Peter didn’t realise what Natasha meant with all the suits in the world, and for months he didn’t even think about it. But then, as the Autumn turns to Winter and New York is hit with frost and cold winds, Tony gives him a Winter Spider suit.
”The name’s a work in progress,” Tony says with a grimace as Peter questions the file name. ”But uh, I figured — just, here.” He opens a hidden panel in the wall of the lab and reveals a dark suit with chrome details, his signature red and blue still decorating the arms and legs.
”It’s designed to keep you warm without having an effect on mobility. The fabric is dense and there’s heaters on the sides as well as extremities.”
”It’s, um. Nice?” Peter says dubiously.
”You don’t like it?” Tony asks, his voice light. ”Doesn’t matter. How about this?” He opens another panel, revealing another suit that is nice and certainly different, but Peter’s happy with his suit as it is.
”Tony, I don’t need a new suit,” Peter tells him after the third suit.
”Sure, kiddo,” he answers.
Peter agrees to try on another suit when his old one ends up all torn up in a fight. It’s design is closer to his signature look and apparently with protective fabric stronger than kevlar but three times less thick. It sounds good, but while patrolling, Peter learns that bullet-proof does not mean stab-proof when he goes to break up a drug deal and one of the thugs manages to slash at his side while he’s apprehending another.
When he tells Tony that night, it comes off as a joke but Tony visibly pales.
”Hey!” Peter calls after him as he turns on his heel and practically runs for the elevator. Peter just gets in before the doors shut. ”I’m okay,” Peter says with a light laugh. ”Look, it’s barely there,” he tells him and pulls the fabric to show a light pink gash. ”Give it, like, an hour and it’s all gone.”
Tony’s hands are tentative on his side. ”We should go to the med bay,” he says, sounding distracted and presses another elevator button. ”What was I thinking? You must’ve lost a ton of blood. Are you okay? Are you feeling faint?”
”I’m fine, Tony,” Peter says, exasperated. Still, he goes to the med bay with him, to calm his nerves if nothing more. Tony calls someone called Helen and asks her about internal bleeding with accelerated regeneration while the doctors look him over. Together they finally get Tony to calm down, but agree to keep Peter under observation for the night. Peter rolls his eyes but goes with it.
Tony falls asleep on the armchair next to the hospital bed, but when Peter wakes up, he’s not there. The doctor laughs and apologises for keeping him there for the night, says something about ”boss’ orders”, as he signs himself out of the med bay. And then Peter walks straight to Tony's workshop.
”Did you actually sleep at all?” Peter asks and startles Tony, who looks like death warmed over.
”For a while, but you know what they say, strike while fire is hot,” Tony smiles and takes a sip from his coffee cup. It can’t be his first one. Peter thinks he’s in double digits.
There’s tons of schematics floating around him on the holo screens. He’s invented three new materials, it seems. In one corner there’s even some design patterns. The latest one, the one right in front of Tony, looks like some sort of tactical gear. Black with silly looking goggles. Peter can’t picture where Tony thinks he would use it.
”Okay, this is it,” Peter tells him. ”I’m calling May. We need to talk about this, this — it’s not a suit obsession, because that’s obviously just a symptom.”
They end up having tea and talking until dark. In conclusion, May tells Tony, ”What you’re experiencing is parenthood,” and hides her smirk in her mug as Peter splutters, blushing furiously and Tony pales. ”You’ll always worry, if they’ll hit their heads in the corner of a coffee table or fall down from a swing. Well, in Peter’s case, he’s swinging from buildings.” She adds, ”You could still hit your head on coffee tables, honey,” before Peter can protest.
”What do you do about it?” Tony asks, sounding lost. May pats his hand and smiles.
”You learn to live with it.”
It’s one of the hottest days of late May, when Tony breaks him the news. The United Nations have been working with the world governments to completely reform the Accords with Rhodey spearheading the project. Tony tells him the New Accords are comprehensive guidelines in what could be considered superhero work, with the Avengers initiative and SHIELD leadership having overruling authority in matters discerning the humanity as a whole. There would be an anonymous government database of those with powers, and only a select few people with the highest clearance could access their real identities, protecting those like Spider-Man. It all sounded reasonable, good even, but.
”It doesn’t mean,” Peter starts but he can see it in the twist of Tony’s lips before he gets the sentence out. Peter sighs and sits on his stool. ”They’re coming back.”
”Yeah.”
”I’m sorry?”
”Hah,” Tony kind of laughs. It’s more of an exhale. ”Yeah, you don’t need to be. We’ll figure it out.”
It’s barely summer and all Peter can think about is Christmas. He and May spent the last two in the Tower with Tony. With Pepper and Happy and Rhodey and Natasha. Clint came to visit on Boxing Day.
They used to spend Christmas with Ben. They had their own traditions. And then, after Ben, they… Christmas wasn't the same. They ate a lot of chocolate, watched three dozen Christmas movies. And now it felt like they were starting new traditions, finding a new family.
It’s barely summer and all Peter can think about is how this can ruin his Christmas. We'll figure something out, Tony says, and Peter wants to believe.
Natasha doesn’t usually come to him, unless he’s been on an invention bender and no one’s around to drag him out of the lab. They’re ships passing in fog, but still Tony knows they’re friends. If he needs — when he needs her, she will be there for him and vice versa, if Natasha ever admits to needing anyone. And as the plane makes its landing, Natasha walks in and deposits herself on the lab couch. Tony has the live footage on the holo screens, accompanied by security cameras from the airport and satellites for good measure.
He’s standing in front of them, arms crossed. He knows he’s tense and he knows Natasha can feel it. As the Rogues walk down from the plane, led by Steve in his tactical gear, Tony grits his teeth but tries to keep all emotion from his face.
Steve’s dressed in a dark navy suit, almost black, with an indentation of his star over his chest. Probably the most neutral option, Tony thinks. He doesn’t want to let go of the title of Captain America, but also doesn’t want to look like he assumes it’s his to take. Tony can respect that. The Rogues coming back is the first step, but that doesn’t mean they’re reinstated.
Sam Wilson walks down the stairs after Steve. Then Barnes. Wanda and after her, Vision in his human form. Tony realises he’s missed him. Losing JARVIS felt like losing a limb, and getting to know Vision after that was hard but they were starting to get closer before the… Civil War. God, such a stupid name, but Tony doesn’t know what else to call it.
The Rogues get to the small stage, standing in front of dark SHIELD SUVs and grim looking agents. The press goes crazy, reporters trying to get their voice heard, shooting dozens of questions all over each other. A graceful older woman in a blazer and pencil skirt gets them to settle, and selects who gets to ask their questions. She’s a SHIELD agent, too, Tony knows. She might look harmless but could kill a man with the heel of her stiletto in a heartbeat, her voice demanding compliance.
”How does it feel to be back home?”
”Great,” Steve smiles, and looks at the other Rogues, who seem to agree. ”I think I can speak for all of us and say that we’ve been waiting for this anxiously. Three years is a long while to be away from home, even if you’re living in luxury.” Steve turns back to the audience with a charming grin.
Someone asks where they stayed for the past couple of years. "Since the United Nations and the Accords Council are already aware, I feel like I can thank prince T'Challa of Wakanda publicly. His hospitality and generosity made this conclusion possible.”
”Do you plan on continuing your work as Avengers?”
"We are grateful for this opportunity," Steve answers. "The Accords Council will decide whether we are a good fit for the Avengers initiative or not."
”Mr. Rogers! What does the future hold for your marriage? Will you file for a divorce?” Good old Christine Everhart. Steve opens his mouth to answer, but before he can utter a word, he’s interrupted.
”That’s all the time we have today,” the same agent says in a stern voice. ”Thank you for your cooperation.”
The agents behind them, who stood as still as wax figures, rush into action and usher them into the vehicles. Just like that, it's over and the Rogues are on their way.
Tony closes the news reports as they move to their studios and the newscasters start speculating the professional and personal futures of the Avengers. He brushes the CCTV footage off the screens, but leaves the satellite images following the SUVs towards the Compound. Then he just… stands there. They’re silent for a while, just looking at the convoy.
”How do you feel?” Natasha starts at the same time as Tony says, ”He has a beard.”
”Ooookay,” Natasha answers. ”And that makes you feel...?”
"And. He still wears his ring."
"You do too," Natasha answers.
Tony drops his hand from his collar, where it always seems to stray, playing with the ring hanging from a chain around his neck, always with him. Always hidden from the public. (The Avengers Civil War or the divorce of the Stark-Rogers couple? — Iron Man’s first public appearance after the faithful fight, the UN still searching for Rogers with the US military — Tony Stark shows his bare ring finger: see photos! Is the world’s most loved bachelor back to his old ways after the dramatic break up? The press was going crazy after he stopped wearing the ring. The last thing he needs is another whirlwind of speculation.)
An anxious tic, he reassures himself. Doesn't mean anything. He leaves the satellite footage running and gets to the couch next to Natasha. "It's different."
Natasha hums. "Is it?"
She gives Tony a meaningful look, one that makes him feel Judged.
”My therapist says it’s a token. Reminds me of the good times and how I got through the bad times. It doesn’t have to mean I still have feelings for him.”
”Your therapist is kind of an ass.”
”Hey,” Tony says lamely.
”So let’s talk about your feelings,” Natasha tells him and it comes off as an order. Tony sighs.
Flash finds Peter sitting on the floor in a little nook of the school library.
"I thought you left already," he says in a way of greeting.
"Yeah, well… I didn't want to go home."
"You skipped AcaDec."
"Yeah."
"Michelle's mad at you."
"Yeah."
Flash sits down next to him. They sit there for a while, silent.
"Why aren't you going home?" Peter asks eventually.
"...I don't like it there. Too quiet."
"So you come to the library?" Peter smiles.
Flash hums. "It's different. The house is too big to be so empty."
"Empty?"
"Yeah. My parents are never really home. Conferences, meetings, you know. And I'm too old for a nanny."
"That's why you have so many parties." Peter doesn't mean to say it aloud.
"They get old real fast. Twenty loud drunk teenagers don't really help for loneliness, who would've thunk," Flash says, self-deprecating. "But we weren't supposed to talk about me."
"According to who?"
"We were supposed to talk about how lame you are," Flash continues, not caring about Peter's interjection. Peter snorts. "You never miss AcaDec, and you're never like this."
"Like what?" Peter asks defensively.
He gestures at Peter's whole being. "Like this."
"And what am I like usually?" Peter huffs.
Flash rolls his eyes. "You're a firecracker. Loud and excited. Nothing gets you down. So what's up?"
"It was on the news," Peter says and gets back to staring at the fluorescent lights above them.
Flash fishes his phone out of his pocket. "NASA records radio waves from deep space, nope — President Harris nominated for a Nobel peace prize, that’s not it — Ryan Reynolds rumoured to renew his role as Deadpool in the second installation, god that man is hot."
"What?"
"What?"
"You just casually —"
"Hey, you don't get to criticize how someone comes out, your first tweet was I'm bi."
Peter swallows. He didn’t tweet that. Spider-Man did. "What — what do you mean?"
"I might not be as quick as Michelle, but I'm not blind. You hanging out with Stark? You and your aunt moving to the Tower? And Spider-Man's your height and… build."
"Wait —"
"I haven't told anyone and I won’t.” Flash goes back to scrolling through his phone, seemingly unfazed while Peter looks at him with an expression akin to a dying fish. "Here. The Rogues are home! United Nations installs the New Accords in place, 69 —”
”Nice,” they say in unison.
”— names signed,” Flash continues. ”That's it, right?"
Peter lets out a long sigh. "They're back."
"So what? Oh boo hoo, you get to meet more superheroes. Wait, wait is it because you're afraid Stark will focus on Cap and you'll get thrown to the sidelines?" Peter can see Flash's pearly white smile in his peripheral vision. It's cold, and excited. "You're suffering from separation anxiety? Aw, poor Puppy Parker."
Peter doesn't answer.
"Wow. That's really it, huh?"
"You know, sometimes you're okay: when you're not trying too hard. We even had a moment somewhere about there," Peter answers. "Puppy Parker sounds like an endearment, Eugene."
"Ugh, you're no fun." Flash lets out a long-suffering sigh. Then they stay there for a while, silent.
"It's not my story to tell," Peter says. "But Cap hurt Tony really bad." He swallows. "And I don't want him here."
"Oh."
"Yeah." Peter hugs his knees and hides his face. He's afraid and doesn't even know what he's afraid of. Flash pats his back awkwardly. Peter lets out a wet laugh. "Thanks," he whispers. Then they're silent again, but neither of them leave.
They've been working on Peter's suit for the last three hours.
He finally got back home in the evening, with Flash's number on his phone, saved as Eugene. He's on Flash's as dog emoji Parker. "Can I have your number?" Flash had asked, and Peter was glad he had because he was thinking about it but wouldn't have had the guts. They had a so-called moment behind bookshelves in the furthest corner of the Midtown library, but he didn't want to presume it would mean anything. "I can, I don't know, send you memes about Rogers' stupid face or something. There’s plenty from those old education videos – wait. It was you, wasn’t it? They never found out who it was and it was months before they got new copies, and then they were edited!" Peter had pleaded the fifth with a grin.
Flash had sent him memes all the way to the lobby, and in the elevator Peter had answered with "I'm actually afraid of seeing him. Laugh at me?" and Flash had answered with a couple of cat pictures instead. Somehow after that getting back to the lab with Tony didn't feel like the last time.
"So… will you?"
"Hm?"
Peter drags the latest news from his phone screen to the holograms. The Stark-Rogers marriage still has hope, one says. The Rogues are back and Captain Rogers is wearing his ring, announces another one. We are rooting for the Avengers power couple — Tony Stark and Steve Rogers are still legally married even after a three year separation — Captain America is back to his Iron Man: insider account of the steamy reunion
The last one hovers right in front of them, before Peter puts them all away.
This is why Stark should divorce Rogers
"Will you take him back?" Peter's voice is quiet.
"I don't know, Pete," Tony answers and he sounds tired. "I haven't even met him yet."
"You haven't?"
"You really thought that steamy reunion thing was fact?"
"Ew, no," Peter says immediately and gets a smile out of Tony. A small one, but a smile nonetheless. "I just thought… they came to New York this morning."
"There's a compound upstate. They'll stay there until the Accords Council decides what to do with them," Tony says. "We could visit?"
Peter looks at him dubiously.
"I'd like you to meet Vision."
"Okay, yeah, sure."
First time they meet after three years is in a cold conference room. Bare, impersonal. Brings to mind another place, if you start to make connections. Tony doesn't.
Steve's sitting at the table as he walks in. His "hey" is more of an exhale than a word. He looks cautiously hopeful, hands over it like trying to show he's not a threat. Tony's probably reading too much into this. He sighs and steps to the table, slides the folder over to Steve and doesn't bother sitting down. He crosses his arms as Steve opens it, a familiar bemused wrinkle on his brow.
"Tony," Steve pleads. He looks up from the papers and Tony can see how the hope is dying from his eyes, how he's killing it. "Do you really want this?" he asks, nodding to the folder.
Tony swallows. "I don't know. I don't know what I want. My therapist — wow, that's still weird to say — my therapist suggested it." That's his defense. Actually he was the one who brought it up first, but his therapist encouraged him. Steve doesn't need to know that. "Food for thought." He scruffs the toe of his shoe against the floor, dodges Steve's gaze.
"I know," Steve says and that's when Tony looks at him sharply. He's about to say a slashing how could you possibly know what I want, you haven't been here for three years, you barely know me, but Steve continues. "I know what I want, and it certainly isn't this. And I won't sign it, until you know for sure." He pushes the papers away from him, like they disgust him. "If you really want this, I will, okay? I'm not keeping you a hostage, Tony. If you want a divorce, you tell me, and I sign it. God, I just – I know there isn't a single thing I could do to even begin to make this right but I still love you, Tony. I love you more than anything."
"Yeah," Tony chokes out.
"I know," Steve says again and this time it feels like he actually might, even if he has been gone for three years, even if he barely knows Tony anymore. Tony doesn't know himself either, but he knows that he loves. Even if maybe he shouldn't. Even if maybe it would be easier, healthier to stop.
For a moment they're silent.
"Who's the kid?" Steve asks then, his lips turned to a small smile. He looks past him and Tony turns around to see Peter standing in the corridor, staring intently at them through the full-length windows.
"My intern," Tony says. Steve hums, doesn't push him to elaborate. "Looks like I should go."
"If you ever need anything, or want anything, or just… anything, I'll be here," Steve tells him and Tony stops at the door.
"I know," he says softly. Not just because Steve is legally obligated to stay there and hence, he literally will be there. But because Tony knows here isn't a place.
Until the Accords Council decides what to do with them ends up being five weeks.
They’re truly in the middle of the summer season, but May is knitting the longest, ugliest scarf the world has witnessed, and Peter complains it's months too early to succumb to Winter.
"Shut up, and bring me my tea," May commands from under the yarn pile she's gathered on her. Peter sighs and goes to boil water.
Peter's phone buzzes and he thinks it might be another meme from Flash, but it's not.
"Can I call?" Rhodey asks.
"Sure," Peter types back and it takes approximately two seconds from delivered to read to Rhodey calling.
"Hey, what's up?"
"I figured you'd want to hear this from someone close."
In a heartbeat Peter goes through everyone who could've died but doesn't dare to ask.
"Someone leaked it to the press and I know you get Alerts from everything related to the Rogues or the Accords so I figured I better get to it before your phone blows up."
"Oh," Peter says quietly. "So, what's going on?"
"To ensure the future functionality of the Avengers initiative and, more importantly, the current team, the Accords Council decided the best course of action is for them, or us, live in the same housing unit," Rhodey sounds like he reads it from somewhere, "— that's the long and short of it, really. And since Tony works where he lives and everyone else's job kind of is being on the team, well."
Peter sighs. "They're moving in."
"Yup."
"At least we get to stay here."
"Yeah, at least there's that, kiddo. Think I can still catch Tony or did the news get to him?"
"Wait, you called me first?"
"He's probably working, FRIDAY would've handled it. You needed the parachute more, Pete."
"I — Thanks, Rhodey."
"Any time. You're not gonna go and read every article you can find about this when I hang up, right?"
"No," Peter lies.
"Tell Natasha you need more acting lessons. See you soon, kid.”
”I don’t need a bodyguard,” Tony tells them, as they’re standing in the foyeur, waiting for the Rogues. ”And I certainly don’t need four of them.”
Peter bites his lip so he won’t laugh and looks somewhere to the side. Clint grins and starts to say something but Natasha elbows him and all that comes out of his mouth is a pained exhalation. Peter doesn’t know what it would’ve been but Natasha obviously does, the seething look she gives to Clint tells that much.
”Come on, Tones,” Rhodey says with a smile. ”We just want to give them a warm welcome back home.”
”I see you, Platypus,” Tony answers with a squint. ”And I don’t like what I’m seeing.”
”Don’t need to like it,” Rhodey smirks. The elevator gives them a clear bling that pulls Peter’s insides into a knot. ”Now, shut up and face the music.” Rhodey pats Tony’s shoulder and turns him towards the Rogues who exit the elevator. Then they’re standing there, staring at each other. It’s reminiscent of Germany, but this time Peter’s standing firmly right on Tony’s side as they face them.
Barnes is the first one to talk. ”This seems awfully formal.” It breaks the tension, pulls a snort out of Tony.
”Stark,” Bucky nods and closes the distance to shake Tony’s hand.
”Barnes.”
”You — Tony? Bucky?” Steve stutters, but Bucky has already moved to Natasha, who he greets with a quiet ”Natashenka,” before Natasha pulls him into a quick hug. They leave towards the kitchen, Clint following them after a sharp ”Nat?”
Tony shrugs. ”Thought I should make my peace, since we’re legally obligated to live under the same roof.”
”And since I didn’t kill your folks,” Bucky calls over his shoulder.
”Yeah, that too, I guess,” Tony grins. ”Anyway, welcome home. Good to see you guys.”
”Thanks for having us, Stark,” Wilson says.
”Tony,” Tony corrects.
”Well, thanks for having us, Tony,” Wilson grins. Then he looks over Tony and his face turns grim. ”Colonel.”
”Staff Sergeant,” Rhodey answers, just as serious. Then he breaks into a smile and Wilson laughs.
”It’s an honor to meet you,” Sam says and Rhodey answers with, ”Are you kidding? You fly with literal wings,” and then they leave the foyeur too.
”It’s good to be home,” Vision smiles. ”Thank you, Tony.”
”Of course, Vis,” Tony says with something akin melancholy.
He whispers something to Wanda, who’s looking awkward, hugging herself and hiding behind the waterfall of her hair. Vision presses a kiss to her temple, and then falls through the floor which leaves Peter wide-eyed. Not as much as Wanda walking to Tony and hugging him, though.
”I’m sorry,” she whispers and she sounds like she’s on the verge of tears.
”Hey, it's okay," Tony says and pets her hair. "It was a grand shit show, but it's over now," he laughs lightly. ”There’s a room for you and Vis, if you want to go check it out. Last one in the corridor after the common room.”
Wanda nods and goes, too. Leaving Peter and Tony alone with Steve. Peter bristles.
”Hey, Pete. Go check if Barnes and Nat are already burning the place down, will you?” Tony smiles.
It’s such a blatant excuse Peter kind of wants to call him out. Instead, he nods towards Steve. ”What about —?”
Tony rolls his eyes. ”I’m okay.”
”Fine,” Peter says and looks at Steve bitterly.
”An intern, huh?” he hears Steve ask when he walks away. It sounds like he’s smiling.
Before the Civil War, they were a family. This cohabitation feels… weird, to say the least. It feels more like having tons of roommates, everyone’s a little awkward. Not Peter, though. He’s making friends with everyone, even Bucky. Well… everyone but Steve.
And Steve’s been nothing but attentive with Tony. But that seems to make it worse, as much as Tony appreciates it. Peter sure knows how to hold a grudge. There’s fear in his eyes, too, and Tony sees it after those long hours in the lab, when Steve comes up to ask if they’ve eaten and drags Tony out. Steve’s sure to prompt Peter to follow them, but Peter always mutters something about needing to write down the solution, he’ll come in a minute.
Tony doesn’t exactly know what Peter’s afraid of. It’s been weeks since the Rogues integrated back with them and Steve’s been… normal. If Peter’s afraid Steve will hurt him, there hasn’t been any signs he would do that.
And Tony’s ashamed to admit, he’s happier now than he’s been in years. It’s not something he would say out loud. Even if the Avengers are still stumbling around each other, trying to find their footings, Tony feels a sense of normalcy. Those moments with Steve, when he’s so into his work he can’t hear or see or breathe anything else, and he gently prods him back and takes care of him. It feels like home, it pulls at his heartstrings.
”Do you even drink any water?” Steve asks, and Tony mumbles something about coffee, making Steve roll his eyes. Tony can tell, even if he doesn’t look away from his performance calculations.
”When was the last time you saw daylight?”
”I’m not a houseplant!” Tony laughs.
”Yeah, but sometimes it feels like I’m talking to one,” Steve grins. ”Taking care of a plant wouldn’t be such a pain in my ass.”
Steve’s not afraid to sass with him, and if that makes Tony’s smile that much wider, he’s well within his rights to keep it to himself.
”So… what’s up with you two?” Clint asks one evening, when they’re eating Taiwanese takeout. Him and Steve with Clint and Natasha.
Steve looks like a deer in headlights. Tony sighs and sets his chopsticks down.
”You could go to Coulson,” Natasha offers with a slight smile.
Clint laughs. ”Yeah, last time Coulson played a marriage counsellor, me and Laura ended up in a triad with him.”
Natasha gives him a sharp look. Clint shrugs. ”Okay, fine. You should probably try, he’s pretty good,” he allows, then grins. ”Just remember, I don’t share.”
That’s how they end up on the helicarrier, in Coulson’s office.
”So, what can I do to help?” Coulson asks, shuffling papers on his desk.
”Well, Natasha,” Steve starts.
”No,” Coulson says sternly.
”But —” Tony tries.
”Wait,” Coulson orders, gets up from his desk and walks to the door. ”Hill!” he calls out. There’s thundering steps and then agent Hill looks in. The moment she sees them, her expression turns visibly annoyed.
”Oh, God,” she groans. ”Seriously? You want to cash in your favour on these two?”
And that is how they end up with Maria Hill as their marriage counsellor. Coulson leaves them and agent Hill sits in his chair, closes her eyes and takes a deep breath.
”Okay,” she says, more to herself. Tony looks at Steve, who looks just as puzzled as he feels. Steve shrugs. Hill opens her eyes.”Okay,” she says again. ”First things first. We will meet once a week, every week, no exceptions. Our sessions are not only confidential, but everything that we go through, stays here.”
”Isn’t that the definition of confidential?” Tony asks.
”No,” Hill tells him sternly. For a while there, she seemed softer, and now suddenly she’s back to being this kickass agent. Tony can do nothing but raise his eyebrows. Hill takes another deep breath. ”What I mean by that is that you leave everything on the doorstep when you leave. You will not bring up anything we talked about outside this room. You can write down things you want to discuss in the next session, but you will not, under any circumstance, go through the problems we have at hand, in any length. Am I being clear?”
Steve looks at Tony and then says, ”Sure, sounds reasonable.” Tony nods.
”Great,” Hill says and gives them a tight smile. ”Coulson sprung you on me, so I’ll spring this on you. You need to decide, if you want this.”
”Of course we do,” Steve tells her.
”No. You need to decide whether you are ready to do everything to stay together. You don’t get to quit, I don’t take on cases that end up in divorces. And it’s going to get hard. You both have traumas, separate and shared.”
Tony swallows. He searches blindly for Steve’s hand and Steve takes his. ”We’re here, aren’t we?” Tony says.
Agent Hill sighs. ”Okay. You can call me Maria.”
”This feels…” Tony starts, with a purse of his lips.
”Way more strange than it should?” Steve asks with a laugh.
”Yeah,” Tony admits.
They’ve been working with Maria for a couple of weeks and she told them they should try dating. It’s not really like they can go to a dinner and a movie, the press would be all over them. There has been four attacks on New York since the Rogues were reinstated as or welcomed as Avengers, and they have been speculating every interaction they’ve had during battle.
Somehow it’s easier to be around each other casually. When they have DATE NIGHT in their calendars (on Tony’s Stark calendar which syncs across all devices with reminders from FRIDAY, and Steve’s, dare he say, acoustic), it’s suddenly awkward. Tony has trouble chewing his steak, they don’t find any topics to talk about.
”Let’s go out,” Steve offers.
”We can’t,” Tony tells him.
”Penthouse balcony,” Steve says with a soft smile.
They get there, and instantly it’s easier to breathe. The silhouette of chilly evening New York sparkles right in front of them. They stand there for a while, and then Tony takes Steve’s hand, which prompts the man to wrap his arms around Tony. He presses his chin on Tony’s crown and starts telling him how different the New York skyline used to be.
”Thank you,” Tony whispers, burrowing back into Steve’s chest.
”You’re welcome,” Steve says and Tony can hear his smile.
”You’ve been weird,” Tony tells him.
”Weird how?” Peter asks. His voice is tense. He’s started doing his homework in the lab, trying to spend more time with Tony, even if it would just be coexisting in the same space.
”Distant, I guess,” Tony says. He doesn’t sound accusing, but it still hurts.
Peter writes down his answer angrily. ”You’ve just been with Steve.”
”Well, yeah. Hanging out is kind of in the contract, he’s my husband.”
”Sure! But you’re supposed to be my dad!” Peter finally looks at Tony, who seems surprised. Peter looks quickly back down. ”I’m sorry,” he says, gathering his books and notes before he practically runs out.
Peter doesn’t really know when Flash became one of his best friends. Maybe around the time he asked him to join the D&D campaign they were starting with Ned, MJ, Abe and Cindy, DM’d by Betty (and finding out she was a nerd was, honestly, such a paradigm shift. Obviously she was a nerd, she was in Midtown, but a nerd like them AND willing to lead a campaign?) At that point it still made him nervous to ask Flash anything, even to hang out. After that, they got closer and started hanging out more. Whenever Flash was lonely (which was so often Peter got sad if he thought about it too much) he could text Peter and more often than not he invited Flash over, or they would meet up downtown.
And after a while, they didn’t just text when either of them was lonely, they just texted. All the time. Memes, complaints about life, Flash gave him updates of his two ragdolls Mimi (Peter laughed when he heard it first, then laughed harder when Flash told him that his mum named her) and Minerva — ”Your cats are called Mimi and Minnie?” ”Excuse you,” Flash had said, covering Minerva’s ears. Then he pet her cute little head and squished her cheeks. ”Her name is Lady Minerva Mousehunter the Fierce, or Lady Fierce, or Lady Minerva, or Lady or Minerva and you will address her as such!” Peter snickered and offered his hand for Minnie to sniff. ”Good to meet you, Lady Fierce.” — and Peter would give him the hottest of teas from the Tower (like where did Clint fall asleep this time, or what they were working on with Tony or what’s the latest on the Stark Industries Research and Development Interns Drama aka SIRADID or one time how May crocheted a beanie for Natasha and Peter doesn’t know if she was appearing teary-eyed because she was so touched or because the beanie was so terrifyingly hideous) knowing that he wouldn’t tell anyone in his excitement. (Looking at you, Ned. The only person in the world who knew for a fact Spider-Man wears a thong under his suit, before it was all over Twitter. Peter’s not mad, just disappointed.)
The point is, Peter hasn’t felt nervous with Flash for a while. And now he spins around in his desk chair, around and around and around. He feels nauseous, but not because of the spinning. Flash is lying on his bed, has been for like twenty minutes now: reading aloud funny tweets every now and then, seemingly unaware of Peter’s woes. ”Can we, like — ugh, I don’t know how to say this. Would you — I mean, could we — Will you —?”
Flash gets up on his elbows, twitter feed forgotten. ”Date you?”
”Yeah! If we acted like we were dating, maybe Tony would think about something else than Steve!”
Flash sighs through his nose, lies back down and gets to scrolling his phone. ”...you want to make him jealous?”
”Ew! What the hell!” Peter kicks Flash’s side with his socked foot. Flash grins and Peter snickers. ”Ew, no. Could you imagine?”
Flash puts his phone down to gesture a wide headline with his hands. ”Spider-Man in a love triangle! Will this young hero come between Iron Man and Captain America? Stark-Rogers divorce hasn’t been finalised, but Stark already has a new fling: see photos! Exclusive insider interview: who is Spider-Man and is he the reason why America’s favourite supercouple broke up?”
Peter holds his sides laughing. He climbs next to Flash with a wide grin. ”You’re awful,” he accuses. They’re silent for a while. ”So, will you? Can we do that?”
”What’s your master plan? You want to introduce me to your parents?”
”My parents are dead,” Peter pouts. Flash rolls his eyes.
”Your parents, as in your aunt and your adoptive dad.”
”He’s not my —”
”Please.”
”Okay, we can start with that.”
Flash snorts. ”And then?”
”I don’t know, what are you comfortable with? You know, we probably have to be cute and couple-y? Cuddling in the common room, yes or no? Holding hands?”
”Sure, why not.” Flash shrugs, and then he goes back to reading out tweets, this time about Spider-Man’s ass.
”Did you specifically search for tweets about my ass?” Peter laughs.
”No,” Flash tells him. ”I searched for tweets about Spider-Man’s ass. Now listen, someone called spider emoji, web emoji, Overcooked Avocado —”
”Overcooked avocado?”
”Shush. Flushed emoji, water droplet emoji, says: I could write arias about Spidey’s bootiful bouncy castle, but Twitter restraints me to haikus.”
”Beautiful bouncy castle?” Peter snorts out.
”Booty-ful,” Flash corrects him.
”Oh my god. Please don’t subject me to their haikus.”
”Their handle is spideydaddy,” Flash continues. ”Just b-t-dubs,” he says grinning, as Peter wheezes. ”Wait, this next one is even better —”
They haven’t even officially started their fake dating when they get the first comment from a team member and that makes Peter believe that this might actually work.
They’re watching a movie in the common room, because it has the best surround sound, unless you count the theatre, but the common room has better couches. Flash is sitting with his legs kicked up on an ottoman, Peter’s curled right in his side, resting his head on Flash’s shoulder. It’s not really that different than how they watch movies anyways, but after their earlier discussion, it sure feels different.
And then Wanda and Vision walk in, Wanda looks tired and a little frazzled.
”How did the mission go?” Peter calls out. They don’t answer.
”You really are in love with that boy,” she tells Flash instead, with something close to wonder in her voice.
”Wanda,” Vision warns gently and guides her towards their room.
Peter watches them walk away and then whispers, ”See! It’s working already!” Then he turns to Flash, who seems like he was just petrified. He’s pale and wide-eyed and Peter feels instantly bad.
”I’m sorry, we don’t have to do this if it makes you uncomfortable!” Peter says quickly and tries to subtly take a little distance, but Flash puts his palm on his thigh and squirms a little to find a better position, even closer to Peter.
”It’s cool, Parker. Just took me by surprise,” Flash laughs. ”We should totally do this, right? We barely even started and people already think we’re an item.”
”Sure,” Peter grins.
”Come on, chill. You’ve met Tony so many times already,” Peter whispers in Flash’s ear, pokes his chin on his shoulder.
”Yeah, in passing, not as your boyfriend!” Flash hisses.
”Oh, we’re boyfriends now?” Peter asks, pleased.
”Wasn’t that the deal?” Flash asks, agitated. ”Oh, god. We had that field trip! I was such an ass —”
The elevator dings, stopping his train of thought. Peter grins.
”Well, guess it’s time for new first impressions.”
They walk in the penthouse and find Tony sitting in a leather armchair, swirling whiskey in a crystal glass.
”Hi, Tony,” Peter says and looks around. ”May’s not here yet? Well, anyway. Here’s Flash. He’s my boyfriend.”
”Good to meet you, Mr. Stark,” Flash says awkwardly.
”Flash? That your real name?” Tony asks, sounding bored.
”Eugene Thompson, sir.”
”Thompson, huh. I think your mum might be a board member?”
”Oh, that’s my aunt!”
”Tony… Why are you drinking whiskey?” Peter asks tentatively. He wanted to shake Tony up a bit, but not that much.
Tony loses his serious facade with a laugh. ”It’s apple juice! Quite local, there’s a beautiful orchard upstate near the compound.” He downs the glass and sets it aside. ”Thought it would add to the atmosphere.”
”Tony, why are you trying to scare my nephew’s boyfriend?” May asks as she walks in. She was in the kitchen then, Peter thinks. Hopefully not cooking. ”Sorry, I shouldn’t assume,” she says with a warm smile. ”Is partner better? What should I call you?”
Flash gives Peter a glance. ”Uh, boyfriend’s fine.”
”It’s so nice to meet you, Peter’s talked so much about you,”
”May…”
”You have?” Flash grins at him. ”All good, I hope?”
”Hm, well. The last couple of months have certainly been better, haven’t they?”
Flash swallows.
”It’s fine, honey,” Peter smiles sweetly and pats at his upper arm. ”It’s so much better.”
Flash tries to smile, but he looks like this meeting-the-parents dinner can’t be done soon enough.
It’s been almost three weeks since Peter’s outburst. Most of it, he’s been avoiding Tony and spending all of his time either with school or with Flash. School’s something he needs to do, and Flash is someone he enjoys spending time with, so he’s almost not even feeling guilty about it. (He is, but he keeps telling himself that he isn’t. Anyway Tony’s happy with Steve, and he doesn’t need some kid running circles around his knees while he’s trying to work.) Then Tony comes to him and drags him back to the lab citing suit upgrades as the reason. He opens both his nanotech suit and Peter’s Iron Spider schematics for show.
He sits down, leans his elbows to his knees and looks at Peter in a way that makes him feel seen. Peter waits. He already apologised. Tony brought him here, he obviously has something to say.
”You know, I am your dad. And I think I haven’t been doing this thing right, but I don’t know what to do,” he starts.
”You are?” Peter asks with a small voice.
”Yeah, of course I am. Remember how I freaked out last spring? May said it then and I thought that was it, but now I see we should’ve had this conversation.”
”Yeah,” Peter says, pulling on a string on his sleeve, biting his cheek.
”Look, I’ve seen you as a son for a long while, and well. I liked hearing you call me dad, even if it was a heat of the moment thing.”
”Really?” Peter looks up, hopeful.
”Yeah, kiddo,” Tony smiles. ”Listen. Steve and I, we’re really trying, going to counselling and stuff. God, you’d think talking about mushy shit would get easier, what with that and therapy, but no. Still awkward. What I’m trying to say here is, that Steve’s here to stay, but so are you, okay?”
”Okay,” Peter answers, pursing his lip.
”Don’t pout, buddy,” Tony laughs and pokes Peter’s chin. ”You were the one thing that pulled me through after… well, after Siberia.”
Peter grimaces at the mention.
”Yeah, I know. And you don’t need to like Steve, but I’d like if you tried to tolerate him. I kind of really love him, and I’d like if the two people I love most in this world could be in the same room without this, how do I say this? Tangible tension.”
”I love you, too,” Peter mumbles and sort of falls into Tony’s chest, squeezing him and breathing in deep. They stay there for a while, Tony rubbing his back.
”Okay, now, there’s a movie night tonight. You wanna invite Flash?”
”Can I?” Peter smiles.
They’ve been fake dating for two months when Peter realises something that profoundly changes his world view. He’s swinging back home from patrol, watching as the sun sets and paints the city in orange and pink, and suddenly it comes to him. I actually like Flash.
He almost lets go of his web, and then almost swings into a building before he rights his course and gets home safely. Then he runs off to find May.
”I think I have a crush on Flash! I wasn’t even sure I actually liked boys!” he yells to her before he starts pacing around the living room, stretching his mask around in his hands.
May looks at him like he just grew another head. ”Uh, honey, I don’t want to invalidate your feelings but are you seriously having a crisis over having a crush for your boyfriend? Because he’s a boy? That’s to be expected, you’re dating.”
Peter stops, stares at her for a second and then yells, ”But we’re not! We’re fake dating so, ugh. This is so stupid. So Tony would pay attention to me.”
”Peter,” May says sternly, ”I don’t think that’s healthy.” Before Peter can come up with an acceptable excuse, she starts laughing so hard she doubles over. ”Oh god, Peter, my sweet child, come here,” she giggles and pulls Peter into her. ”It’s okay, sweetie.”
”It’s not funny,” Peter complains.
”It kind of is, though,” May grins.
”Okay, it kind of is,” Peter allows, ”But I don’t know what to do,” he pouts before realising — ”Oh no! Please don’t tell Mr. Stark!”
”I know it’s kind of a big deal,” Peter starts.
”Hm?” Flash hums without looking up from the video game he’s playing for Peter. Bloodborne, this time, because Peter enjoys watching it but can’t play it for the life of him. They’re hanging out at Flash’s place this time, which is kind of rare (if the definition of rare can be extended to at least once every two weeks) and Peter’s trying his best to scritch between Mimi’s ears and fluff Minnie’s belly — yes, he’ll call her Minnie in his head and when there are no witnesses that can communicate in human means.
”But um. Do you think it would be possible for you to, to, to maybe spend Christmas with us?
”Sure.”
”That’s it?” Peter asks, surprised.
Flash finally looks up and smiles. ”Yeah, why not. Seems cool.”
Later in the evening, when Peter’s getting ready to go to bed, Flash texts him.
”Mum and dad told me that they already have Christmas plans, but if I want, I can stay behind,” he says, ”They’re gonna fly to Cayman Islands on Christmas Eve.”
Peter feels sad for him, it sounds like his parents were all too ready to leave him in New York. He wants to comfort him, but doesn’t know what to say.
”You’re welcome here, if you wanna come, but it’s okay if you’d rather go with them,” Peter ends up texting him.
”Nah, it’s such a hassle to find good sitters for Mimi and Minerva,” Flash answers and Peter almost offers to catsit them, but it kind of sounds like an excuse. ”Anyway, I’ve heard Stark really knows how to blow money on Christmas.”
”Yeah, it’s kinda insane,” Peter says with a laughing cat emoji. ”Anyway, I’m happy to have you here.”
May takes Peter Christmas shopping after the Black Friday craziness passes. He could never stand that amount of people, all the voices and scents, and of course lights. So they pick a nice Thursday evening, where there’s only a few people milling around. Peter doesn’t need to think too much about Michelle and Ned’s gifts. MJ has been raving about some makeup brushes and painting brushes lately, so Peter gets her both. Ned always appreciates Star Wars memorabilia and Peter doesn’t feel too bad using Tony’s credit card on a lego set for his best friend. He’s got to know Abe, Cindy and Betty fairly well, so finding gifts for them is easy, too. For May, he has a stupid(ly cute) mug with a pink cat that has an unicorn horn saying be unique because it’s kind of their thing, Peter’s given May stupid cups for Christmas as long as he can remember. Then there’s a gift card to a nice spa May always talks about, because she totally deserves it.
And inventions have become his and Tony’s thing over the last couple of Christmases. Or is the plural of Christmas Christmi? Peter wonders. Anyway, he has a new type of nanotech for Tony’s suit and he’s perfected his web fluid formula for medical application. Because what can Peter give to a man who has everything? His brain power.
But then when he tries to come up with a gift for Flash, he comes up with nothing. He even has catnip treats and pretty peacock feather toys for Mimi and Minnie, and for Flash he has soft socks with cat and candy cane print, and little more expensive chocolates in a nice box, because chocolate and Christmas go together. (Like Peter and Flash should go together, he thinks woefully, and then feels like he should kick himself.)
”What do I get for him?” Peter asks May after they’ve spent the last half an hour going around just looking for Flash’s gift. He can truthfully say now that he’s despairing.
”Well, I don’t know, sweetie,” May says gently. ”What does he like?”
”Oh! Thank you, May, thank you!” He hugs her around her waist and presses a wet kiss on her cheek for good measure. She’s amused and bemused, wiping his kiss away with the sleeve of her cardigan. ”We can leave now,” Peter grins. ”I’m going to build him a robot!”
The actual building of the robot is easy, Peter fixes a couple of parts together to make a rudimentary humanoid character about two feet tall and then with May’s help makes a soft shell for it so it can be cuddled with. Then the next few weeks Peter spends perfecting the coding for the AI. Peter kind of wants to call it McQueen, because Flash, lightning, anyone would need to be blind not to see where he’s going with it. But Cars is objectively one of the worst animated movies ever, and because the little thing is kind of reminiscent of Baymax and Big Hero 6 is one of Peter’s favourites, he ends up calling it Hiro. Flash has always been super interested of Stark Industries and he used to be in the robotics lab, so Peter figures it’s a fitting Christmas gift to show Flash his lab and then give him the little bot.
”You know I don’t really use the basement workshop?” Tony smiles as Steve pulls him through the corridor.
”Yeah, well, didn’t know where else to put them.”
”Them?” Tony squeezes his hand. He’s feeling like a teenager — not like him as a teenager but like a teenager. Like Peter’s with Flash, effortlessly happy, like floating in the air.
”You’ll see,” Steve says cryptically and grins.
They are two six feet tall plushies. They’re cute and cartoonish, with huge disproportionate heads and chubby limbs. There’s two of them. Iron Man and Captain America.
”You’ve been conspiring with Pepper,” Tony says, squinting at him.
”Well… You can consider it a payback,” Steve says with a grin. ”But then again, what can you give to a man, who has everything?”
Tony smiles softly and pulls his man to him. ”You.”
”Oh,” Steve smiles and blushes.
”I didn’t mean it that way!” Tony laughs.
”What! I didn’t —!”
”Maria told us we shouldn’t lie,” Tony sing-songs.
”Flash is coming at like twelve, he told me his parents are leaving in the morning and he’ll sleep late. Oh right, we should probably get the decorations up before the cats get here.”
”Wait, you didn’t say anything about cats,” Tony turns on the ladder so fast he almost falls — would have fell, if Steve wasn’t there to steady him. With a hand on his butt.
”Ew, Steve, stop touching my dad,” Peter complains and Steve turns beet red. ”And I did tell you!”
”Thank you, honey,” Tony says to Steve pointedly. ”And you didn’t. I’m pretty sure I would remember if you told me about cats!”
”You just never listen!” Peter tells him.
”What if someone’s allergic! Steve, can you call Clint and ask if his kids are allergic?”
Steve fishes his phone out of his back pocket. Clint answers on the second ring. "Please tell me it's not an emergency. Giant elves attacking New York?"
"Everything's fine. Are any of you allergic to cats?"
"Uhh, no? Peter asked me like two weeks ago. Lila overheard and she hasn’t stopped talking about cats ever since. Phil’s a bit, so again, no Lila, we can’t get our own kitty, but it’s okay, he has his meds and there’s plenty of space so he’ll be fine. Anyway, we’ll be there in like forty minutes, bye.”
”See?” Peter says.
”Any chance you only asked Clint?”
”Of course I asked you! Because I wanted to be sure if it’s okay with you, because you own the house!” Peter yells, exasperated.
”Okay, okay fine, turn it down and help me with the decorations.”
”Oh my god!” Wanda squeals when the kitties stumble out of their carrier. ”They’re so fluffy I’m gonna cry!” and for the next three hours she spends cuddling with them and fawning over them, even after Lila has lost interest and roped Peter and Flash into games with her. Minerva looks like she knows very well how graceful she is when she hops onto Vision’s lap and settles there, judging everyone around quietly like the fierce lady she is.
After games with Lila they help May in the kitchen. Tony always offers to get everything catered, but she insists that making Christmas foods together is what makes Christmas and somehow cajoles him into it. They’re both such disasters in the kitchen Peter was forced to learn how to cook and how to manage them while doing so.
Natasha helps with cutting, slicing and dicing, Tony mixes stuff together and mans the ovens, and Peter’s happy to notice Flash is distracting May enough with idle chit chat about cats and plans for the future that Peter can just focus on hanging about the stove stirring things. Mimi pads in and demands attention and Peter sneaks her bits of ham before Flash scoops her up.
”Hey, baby,” he whispers and presses kisses to her face, and something melts inside Peter. May coos at her and pets her and Peter counts his lucky stars how she’s even greater distraction from cooking.
Christmas Eve dinner doesn’t end up a complete disaster — actually, it ends up pretty perfect.
Clint and Phil help the kids with setting the table, as Laura works as the supervisor with her big belly. There’s already three kids running around and they’re expecting another one and for a second Peter’s amazed how they have energy for it, but then he remembers the kids have three parents. Wanda and Bucky make napkin origami for them, and then Sam calls Bucky’s origami shitty and Bucky challenges him to an origami duel, which is when Wanda vanishes like she was never there.
When they’re ready, Lila announces Sam the winner, making the man grin until Cooper jumps in and tells them that Bucky should have won, because his metal arm is super cool. That almost starts a second duel, but Pepper calls out ”Children, settle.” Bucky and Sam seem properly chastised and after that they finally get to settle at the table.
Peter’s glad he always goes with May’s insistence. First half of the dinner is littered with compliments that make him all warm, even though he blushes and stutters. The second half they’re chatting about, and even in the huge crowd everyone is included. Peter doesn’t know how they do it, but he guesses that’s just how families work.
After dinner, they all find their own places around the common floor to hang out, staying close enough but taking their space. It’s calm, and nice, and Peter’s really happy Flash is there to experience all of this with him.
”Mistletoe!” Wanda cheers and everything stops. Wanda’s looking at them, grinning like a cat who got the canary. Peter looks up, and there. A cute little branch with white berries and a red bow.
”That wasn’t there!” Peter accuses. ”Vision!”
Vision looks up from his book and tries to look innocent. ”Who, me?” he mouths, and the corner of his mouth twitches, trying to hold off a smile.
”We don’t have to, if you don’t want to,” Flash says with a soft voice, looking down in his cup of hot chocolate. Peter looks at him, sees the blush on his cheeks and feels bold. We don’t have to, if you don’t want to but if you do, we can, Peter deciphers.
He takes Flash’s cup and sets it on the breakfast bar. Then Peter gently pulls him in, presses his lips against Flash’s. The kiss is slow — shy, tentative movement, that feels like sweet relief and makes his cheeks burn. They part and Peter looks away, embarrassed.
Flash whispers, ”Oh.”
”Finally,” Tony says, exaggeratingly exasperated and leans into Steve with a pleased smile.
Peter gapes at him. ”What!”
”You’re hopeless, kiddo,” he says with a chuckle. ”Even Natasha can’t teach you to lie.”
”How long have you known?” Peter demands.
Tony shrugs. ”Right about the time you said This is Flash. He’s my boyfriend.”
Peter groans, rubbing his face. ”Why didn’t you say anything!”
Flash takes his hand down and squeezes it. ”I’m kind of happy he didn’t.”
”Okay fine,” Peter admits. ”But I want cuddles.”
”That I can help with,” Flash says and lets Peter pull him to the other end of the couch, push him down and burrow into his side. Peter squints at Tony, trying to stay angry, but Flash is playing with the hairs on the nape of his neck and it’s distracting.
”Merry Christmas, kiddo,” Tony grins.
”Merry Christmas, dad,” Peter says and it kind of feels like admitting defeat. And just because, really, that’s not such a bad feeling after all, when he’s warm and surrounded by family, he adds. ”Merry Christmas, Steve.” It’s worth it, when he sees the joy on Tony’s face and the surprise on Steve’s.
”Merry Christmas, Pete,” Steve answers softly and hugs Tony a tiny bit closer.