Work Text:
The penthouse was still. The Christmas tree was twinking in the corner, and jovial Christmas music was playing quietly through the speakers. Through the window, bright white snowflakes could be seen swirling against the enveloping darkness of night. The pleasant smell of fragrant pine and peppermint permeated the room, adding another layer to what could only be described as the perfect December evening.
Sighing contentedly, Tony turned another page in the book he was reading. There was a stirring beside him. He looked down to see Peter, still asleep with a soft red blanket draped over his back. He smiled indulgently as he pulled the blanket up a little higher so that it covered the kid's shoulders.
The hand that wasn't holding his book, found its way into Peter’s hair. His fingers threaded through the slightly tangled locks, smoothing down the curls. He paused a moment or two later to turn another page, causing Peter to produce a small noise of protest. Tony chuckled lightly at the demand.
Moments later, the clock on the wall read midnight, delivering them into a new day. It was Christmas Eve. Tony knew he should probably insist that both he and Peter go to sleep in an actual bed. But the extraordinary warmth of the room was penetrating him down to his very soul. Between the peaceful atmosphere and the comforting weight of Peter’s head lying against his thigh, he couldn’t bring himself to move.
For a while, Tony continued to leaf through his book and thread his fingers through the kid’s hair. Then exhaustion began to take over. The book began to droop in his grasp and the hand on Peter’s head periodically fell limp without his permission. When his chin dipped down to his chest, he gave in. He stretched his legs out so that they were propped up on the coffee table and slouched down on cushions. It was fine. The couch was comfortable enough, and he couldn’t imagine his cold empty bedroom being nearly as soothing as the living room was at that moment.
Tony glanced towards Peter one more time, smiling at the way the kid had already adjusted himself to his current position. “Goodnight, Pete,” he whispered tenderly before fastening his eyes. “And Merry Christmas.”