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Tony was cowering behind his bed. Dad was mad again, about something he built that wasn’t good enough. His little body shook with tremors as he listened to the footsteps getting closer and closer. They were heavy and slow - Howard.
Tony pressed his fist to his mouth to stop the sound of fear that tried to escape. Stark men weren’t scared, he thought. That was what Dad always said.
The door swung open and Tony could see brown leather dress shoes from his hiding spot behind the bed.
“Come out Anthony,” Howard said, he paused, searching the room for Tony, “you need to learn to do better.” He said.
The shoes were getting closer.
Then Dad was grabbing Tony’s arm and pulling him up from the ground. “I will accept only the best from you.” Howard said, his face set with determination.
Howard pinned Tony’s wrists together with one hand to keep him in place and at the first swing of Dad’s belt into Tony’s back Tony chanted his mantra over and over again in his head. ‘Stark men aren’t scared.’ He thought even as tears ran down his face.
—----
When a kid was dropped on Tony’s doorstep he really really didn’t want to do the father thing. But he did, because what choice did he have? Leave his biological son to face foster care alone just because his bio mom couldn’t support him? No, the kid was his and Tony was working on dealing with his consequences so he brought him to the tower.
His name was Peter and yeah he might have been the light of Tony’s life or whatever.
“Dada!” Peter cried, running up to Tony on tiny little legs.
“Woah there buddy, we don’t need you tumbling down the stairs again.” Tony said, then just in case he asked, “Friday? Is the Baby Monitor protocol still up and running?”
“Yes sir,” came Friday’s response.
Satisfied, Tony turned to look at Peter. “What’s up squirt?” he asked, leaning down so he was level with his son.
“I built a rocket ship.” Peter exclaimed proudly, puffing out his little chest.
“Uh, alright, you weren’t messing around in the lab without someone there with you though right?” He said.
“No, Papa was there.” Peter said, already grabbing Tony’s hand to lead him to the lab.
When they got to the lab Steve was indeed there and leaning against a small work table.
“Hey, I heard our kid genius built something,” Tony said to him by way of greeting.
Steve laughed, the action throwing his golden hair back, “oh he built something all right,” Steve said.
Peter was preoccupied by tugging out a metal and plastic contraption from behind the work table. Tony walked around the table to get a look at it.
“Tada!” Peter shouted as he gestured at his work.
Tony froze because, honestly, it was a piece of shit. The metal and plastic were glued haphazardly into the rough shape of a triangle with bits of circuiting and wires sticking out all over the place.
Tony opened his mouth automatically to say something. Something like ‘when I was your age I could build toasters and small grenades’ or ‘what is this?how can you be the best like this?’
But then he paused. Peter was looking at him with such shining hope in his eyes, his little hands outstretched to innocently show Tony what he had made for fun. He couldn’t take that away.
“That looks awesome bud,” Tony said thickly.
Steve heard the emotion in Tony’s voice and came to stand next to his husband in support, gently leaning into him even though he had no idea what it was about.
“Thanks Dada!” Peter said and happily went back to playing with pieces of wire.
Tony smiled at him.
—------
When Tony felt his tummy feel icky he knew not to tell Dad. Howard didn’t know what to do with sick boys, he just told Tony to get over it and he knew he couldn’t do that.
But someone in the mansion would know what to do. Tony went to find Jarvis.
He wandered down the long hallways until he heard humming coming from Howard’s office. He peeked around the doorway to stick his head of unruly black hair into the room.
He stayed silent watching as Jarvis organized paper’s on Howard’s desk. The man’s back was to Tony but somehow he knew that Tony was there.
“Tony?” he asked quietly.
Tony almost cried when he heard Jarvis’s soft voice because his tummy hurt so bad and now Jarvis was here and everything would be ok.
“Ye-yeah, hi Da- Jarvis,” Tony whispered, correcting himself because Howard got mad when he stuttered and when he accidentally called Jarvis Dad.
“Hey buddy, what’s wrong?” Jarvis asked, turning around to examine the boy.
“My tummy hurts..” Tony murmured, staying behind the doorway cautiously.
“Oh, ok, let’s get you fixed up Bambino,” Jarvis said, coming over and crouching in front of Tony. “Does it hurt like a punch feeling or like a throw-upy feeling?” he asked.
“Punch,” Tony said.
“Ok, c’mere,” Jarvis held out his hand and Tony carefully took it, letting the man lead him back to his bedroom.
When they got back to Tony’s room Jarvis instructed him to lay down on his bed and try not to move too much. “I’ll be right back buddy,” Jarvis promised before disappearing down the hall.
Tony whimpered softly as he lay on top of his blankets motionless. He didn’t like his queen-sized bed because it was so big he imagined that monsters could sneak in and he wouldn’t even notice. Tony didn’t like being all alone in his room.
Jarvis came back with a large white jar that held some kind of cream. “Can you lift up your shirt for me?” he asked.
Tony nodded and pulled up the hem of his tee shirt to expose his small belly. Jarvis slowly began rubbing the cream on his tummy and Tony whined because it was so cold.
“This’ll make your tummy feel better ok?” Jarvis said reassuringly.
Tony nodded, trying to fight off tears but Jarvis was right he soon discovered because his stomach did start to feel better as the cream soothed it. He relaxed and melted into his pillows and Jarvis hummed in satisfaction.
“That’s it Tony,” he said contentedly as he continued rubbing the stuff in.
Then Jarvis started to hum the same tune he was humming in Howard’s office.
“What’s that?” Tony murmured, close to sleep now.
“You want me to sing it?” Jarvis asked amused. Tony nodded, a tiny movement.
“Ok, here goes,“ Jarvis said, then he opened his mouth and began to sing softly and sweetly to the little boy, “Fa la ninna bel bambin, Fa la nanna bambin bel, Fa la ninna, fa la nanna…”
As he trailed off Tony’s eyes slipped shut gently and he drifted off to sleep.
—-----
It was roughly three in the morning when Tony heard the knock at his door. He cracked one eye open blearily and rolled over to face Steve. He thought he might be imagining things.
His husband was sound asleep next to him as usual, curse his perfectly normal sleep schedule. Tony took a moment to take in the sight of Steve sprawled across the sheets, his toned bare chest rising and falling softly. Now that was something he’d never take for granted.
Then the knock came again. Not a hallucination then.
With a groan Tony rolled off the edge of the bed clumsily, hitting the floor with a thump. “oof, “ he grunted, looking up to see Steve sleeping peacefully as ever.
He got up and made his way towards the door, he pulled it open to reveal Peter peeking around the corner of the doorway.
“Pete?” Tony asked, his eyes squinting in the darkness.
The tiny figure nodded, “my tummy hurts,” he whispered like it was a secret.
“Ok,” Tony said, rubbing a hand through his sleep-mussed hair. “C’mere.”
He led Peter into their bedroom, telling him to hop up on the bed then he went to wake up Steve.
“Stevie,” he whispered, then when the lump of his husband didn’t answer he shook his shoulder gently, “Steve.” he said more insistently.
“Wha-” Steve woke up slowly, looking up at Tony. Then he saw Peter lying next to him and said, “oh, what’s wrong?”
“His tummy hurts,” Tony explained. Steve started to sit up and Tony shushed him, “I got it,” he said.
Steve shot him an uncertain look, “you sure?” he asked.
Tony scowled at him, “F- fudge you, I got it.” he answered determinedly. Steve rolled back over in defeat.
“Ok buddy, how does it hurt? Like a throw-upy feeling or a punch?” He asked Peter.
The boy whimpered, “both,” he muttered.
“Ah, ok, we’ll try this first and if you feel like you're gonna throw up let me know ok?” Tony said, backing away to grab the cream.
Peter nodded uncertainly.
Tony crept out of the room and down to the medical cabinet in the hall. Retrieving the cream he returned to the room to find Peter clutching Steve’s arm with one small hand and smiled softly.
“Ok Bambino,” he said, “Can you pull up your shirt for me?” he asked, setting the cream down on the bed.
Peter complied and lifted up his shirt to show his belly. Tony opened the jar and gently began rubbing the white stuff onto Peter’s belly. The boy stiffened up at first and started to pull away.
“I know buddy, I know,” Tony murmured.
Peter relaxed once the cream started working and settled into the bed with a contented sigh. He wasn’t quite asleep yet though, his eyes were staying stubbornly open and if there was one thing Tony had learned in the course of being a parent it was that he needed to get him to sleep.
An old memory re-emerged from Tony’s memory covered in dust and cobwebs. “You wanna hear a song Bambino?” he asked. Peter nodded sleepily.
Tony took a deep breath, tried to recall the words, and started singing. “Fa la ninna bel bambin, Fa la nanna bambin bel, Fa la ninna, fa la nanna…”
As the last words left his lips Peter slipped into a blissful sleep.
“Buona notte Bambino,” Tony whispered into the darkness, reaching his hand down to rub Peter’s soft curls.
—-----
Tony was sixteen years old and a ball of teenage rage. Or debauchery. Or both.
“Anthony, we’re leaving,” called Howard from downstairs.
Tony rolled his eyes and adjusted the collar of his formal shirt with a swift tug. He wandered down the stairs making sure to take his time so Howard would know that he didn’t want to go to this party.
Howard - not Dad, the Dad phase had been short lived and Tony couldn’t care less.
Howard and Jarvis were waiting for him at the bottom of the stairs and Tony felt a pang of sadness that Jarvis was just driving them and not attending the party. He would have liked to have him there.
Tony got in the car and before he knew it they had arrived at the mansion of some wannabe-senator who was interested in Stark Industry weapons - for expanding the US’s military of course.
As he got out of the car and walked through the massive oak front doors Tony couldn’t help but take in the splendor of the house. Even as someone who’d grown up with wealth this guy was crazy rich, apparently from Texas oil money, and his house showed it.
Glittering chandelier hung from the ceiling casting their pale yellow light across all the polished marble and maroon rugs. There were priceless artworks hung on the walls. Servers dressed in tuxedos milled around handing out drinks from impossible tall and skinny crystal glasses to impossibly tall and skinny women.
After that though, Tony lost interest and went to get a drink. No one stopped him of course, he’d been tasting this chardonnay and that sparkling wine at these events since he was eleven.
Drinking was usually how he got through these events anyways as speakers droned on and on and Howard made him put on a perfectly-respectable-heir-to-Stark-industries face.
Tony noticed the women, of course he noticed the women. He prowled around the rooms loosely clutching a wine glass in one hand and watching people’s faces. But, then he saw him.
A tall blonde guy with erotically broad shoulders was leaning against an open oak door frame watching the crowd just like Tony. His dark navy suit fit him just right, hugging all the right places while still looking like the correct size.
Tony threw back the rest of his wine and took a deep breath. He had no idea what his plan was, but the alcohol must have gone to his head because he found himself walking over to the guy.
“Hey,” he said when he reached him.
The guy looked up, his blue eyes seemed darker, hungrier. “Hey,” he said.
Tony let the wine speak, “So which one of these douchebags is your dad huh?”
The guy chuckled, “mom, actually, and she’s trying to get the ear of the senator dude.”
Tony whistled lowly, “damn, that's ballsy.”
The guy nodded, then said, “you wanna get another drink?”
Tony accepted his offer and soon he found himself not at the bar but in an empty study room with his mouth on the blonde's mouth. Don’t ask him how, ‘one thing led to another’ as they say but what Tony did know was how right it felt. He liked this guy, hell maybe he liked all guys he thought through the haze of wine.
“Fuck,” the blonde panted against his mouth as their hands roamed over each other’s bodies. Tony nodded back in agreement enthusiastically. He wasn’t sure where this was going but he didn’t give a damn.
Then the door swung open and the bright light of the hall invaded the cool darkness of the study room.
“Anthony. Edward. Stark. Get out here right now.” Howard’s voice said.
—------
The kid was acting weird. Peter was fourteen after all but still, this was weird even for a teenager.
Tony took note of the things he’d been noticing all year: the isolation, the muttering when asked about school, the increasingly interesting fashion choices.
Not that Tony was one to judge but Pete never talked to him anymore.
Lab time rolled around, the ‘official’ lab time that was because he couldn’t keep Pete out of the labs if he wanted to and most days he went there immediately after school.
“Hey underoos,” Tony called out as he stepped through the lab doors.
“Hey,” Peter called back from somewhere in the depths of the lab. Tony started walking towards the sound of his voice, talking as he went.
“So I was thinking we could mess around with that new Dum-E design you wanted to try?” He said.
“Yeah sure.” Peter answered and Tony paused. Something did not sound right about his voice, usually he was over the moon enthusiastic when Tony let him tinker with whatever he wanted instead of trying to teach him boring things.
“Pete? You ok bud?” Tony asked as he rounded the corner.
“Ye-” Peter started to answer but then Tony rounded the corner and caught sight of him.
He froze dead in his tracks.
“Who the fuck did that to you.” Tony stated simply when he saw the black eye marring Peter’s face.
The boy fidgeted nervously, twisting his hands together in his lap. “No one-” he started to say but Tony cut him off shaking his head.
“If you say you tripped I swear to god Pete,” he warned.
Peter’s face bunched up like he was about to cry. “It’s- I-” Peter shook his head fast, as if dispelling the thought.
Tony came up to him and placed his hand on his son’s shoulder. “Hey, its ok,” he said, “take your time.”
Tony watched as Peter took a deep breath, exhaled, and whispered, “some guys at school did it.”
Tony was raging inside but tried not to let it show. Instead he spoke in a clam voice like he was talking to a frightened animal. “Why, why did they do it Pete?” he asked.
Peter looked away, staring down at the floor and letting his long hair hide his face. “It’s cause -” he took another deep breath, “they know I’m gay.”
Tony sighed, letting the fight go out of his body for Peter’s sake. “Oh, baby.”
At that Peter choked up and started to cry, slumping forward to bury his head into Tony’s chest and clutch his shoulders with both hands. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you,” he got out in between sobs.
Tony shook his head gently, “no, no, baby, that's your decision to make however you want,” he insisted firmly, holding Peter that much tighter.
He felt Peter give a weak nod against his chest.
Later, later there would be many words with the school and students losing their scholarships but for now Tony held his kid close.