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“Papa?” Peter shouted as he tore down the stair and into the living room. He’d come in early from patrol and played a few online games with Ned. During that time, he’d completely lost track of the hour. He cursed himself for not making sure he was ready for their evening out before logging onto the computer. As he skidded across the floor he nearly rammed right into Steve’s chest. Once he recovered from the near impact, he apologized and asked, “Have you seen my hat? You know, the really thick fleece lined one. It’s red and-”
“You wear it every day,” Steve replied. A beat of silence passed as Peter waited for an answer. It seemed that no matter what he was looking for his papa always knew where it was. Like a crazy lost things radar hidden somewhere in his brain. Sometimes he wondered if it was one of his enhancements. “Dad asked me to put them in the wash.”
Peter sighed in mild frustration. He knew they had a washer and dryer but they didn’t really use it often.Mostly they had a service that came in to take care of those kinds of things for them. He was mildly frustrated by the timing. They were supposed to be spending a good portion of the evening outside and he really wanted that hat in particular.
“What about my good gloves? Did they go in there too? And my super soft scarf?” he asked, because those too had gone suddenly missing. He could assume all of his winter wear was together but it wouldn’t be the first time he’d misplaced something. He didn’t learn about his papa’s knack for knowing where literally everything was by keeping up with every single one of his things.
“Yes, Peter. It all needed to be washed. Your coat too.”
“Do you know when it will be done?” Peter asked, his voice teetering closer to a whine than he’d like to admit. “Because you and dad promised we could go ice skating tonight and-
“Calm down, Champ.” Steve’s hand made it to Peter’s shoulder. He chuckled lightly as he gave it a squeeze. “It’s still early. We’ve got plenty of time.”
“Sorry,” Peter mumbled. The remainder had been just enough to knock his enthusiasm back a notch or two. “I’m just- I’ve never been ice skating. I’m excited.”
“And we’re excited to take you.” Steve smiled reassuringly. ”Last I heard, the plan was to leave here after dad get’s home around six, grab an early dinner and head straight to the rink, okay?”
“Yeah. That sounds good," Peter quietly agreed. He glanced at the clock to double check the time and sighed. It was only four. Six o’clock felt like a really long way off.
As if he’d read Peter’s mind, Steve smiled indulgently. “Dad should be done with work soon. Do you want to squeeze in some more Spider-time or do you want to watch a Christmas movie with me?’ He paused as though he were reconsidering his offer and tipped his head toward the kitchen. No pressure or anything but keep in mind, we have hot caramel apple cider here.”
Pete considered it. He’d gone out on patrol for a while that morning. He’d swing around keeping an eye on all the shops, then swung home for a late lunch. He’d stayed in after, humoring Ned with an afternoon of gaming. Typically he would want to make up for that loss of time by going out for a second weekend patrol. But with so much anticipation streaming through his veins he wasn’t sure he’d be able to focus. That and- well, hot caramel apple cider was pretty much the next best thing to hot chocolate. The only difference being, the cider was much more difficult to acquire outside of the month of December. “Movie,” he finally stated. “But I get to pick. You always want to watch those boring holiday romance ones.”
“Whatever you say, Champ,” Steve chuckled and waved his hand toward the wide open living room. “You queue something up. I’ll make us some drinks.”
Peter picked a really old Christmas comedy and sat down on the couch. Few minutes or so later, Steve arrived with a mug in each hand. He accepted his cup and inhaled deeply. The rising steam smelled of sweet cinnamon. He smiled as he took the first warm sip. “This is so good.”
Steve sat down beside Peter and stretched the arm not grasping his mug across his shoulders. “You know when I was a kid, my ma would heat this stuff up on the stove by the gallon. Made the whole tiny apartment smell nice. For me, apple cider smells like Christmas.”
Peter snuggled into Steve’s side and smiled contentedly. Despite having never really had apple cider until he’d come to live with the Stark-Rogers, he had to admit, it really did smell like Christmas.
They sat together sipping at cider and laughing at the comedic tragedy playing across the screen. They hadn’t quite made it to the end when Tony, unexpectedly, came bounding into the room.
“Well, don’t you two look all toasty and festive,” he said as walked into the room. He took a second to kiss Steve’s cheek before sitting down on Peter’s other side. Less than a second later, he leaned over to snag Steve’s mug from the coffee table and swallowed down the remnants of his hot drink.
“Hey!” Steve glared, but there was a twinkle in his eye that said he wasn't nearly as upset as he was pretending to be. Likely because they had at least four large unopened bottles of cider in the bottom of the refrigerator. Tony, however, took the bait, smiled teasingly and looked down at his over-priced watch.
“Gosh. Would you look at the time?” he casually stated. ”Someone should wash these empty cups so we can get ready to head out.”
Steve’s forehead crinkled with mild confusion. “Already?”
“Yep,” Tony happily declared. “I didn’t come home early to sit around waiting to leave.”
Excitement bubbled in Peter’s chest as he scrambled to grab the empty mugs from the table. “Yes! I’ve got the mugs!” He stopped short, when he realized there could potentially be a snag in the while ‘leaving early’ plans. “ Wait! Is my coat still in the dryer?”
With a deep sigh, Steve stood up and waved Peter toward the kitchen. “No worries, Champ. I’ll grab your stuff.”
“Neat. Are we just going to get like-fast food or something so we can go straight to the ice skating rink?”
Before Steve had a chance to answer, Tony hopped up from the couch and stuffed his hands into his pockets. “Nope. I made some reservations at Palmira’s Steakhouse.”
“What?” Peter asked, slightly taken aback. A ‘sit down dinner’ had definitely not been a part of their plans. Let alone a ‘sit down dinner’ at a place like that. “Why! They take forever!”
Tony chuckled. “They don’t take forever. They make your food to order so it’s hot and fresh. There’s a difference.”
“They make you wear a tie,” Peter blandly pointed out. Palmira’s was one of his dad’s go-to restaurants. They probably ate there at least once a month. Each time, Peter had been forced into wearing a button-down shirt and an uncomfortably restrictive tie.
“They make you dress nicely,” Tony corrected. “Sweaters with some chinos will be fine for tonight.”
Peter released a discontented breath. “But we’re going ice skating! Who goes ice skating in Chinos?”
“Uh, you do. Unless you want to reschedule.” Tony smiled and raised his brows in a challenging manner. Because the Steakhouse is going to be a thing.”
“But-” Peter began to protest.
“No but’s. We’ve got to get going soon.” Tony waved his hand in a circular motion and smirked. “There should be a surprise waiting for you to get there.”
Dubiously, Peter narrowed his eyes. “A surprise?”
“That’s what I said. Go on, Kiddo. Get changed. Papa and I will meet you at the door in fifteen.”
For a moment, Peter considered demanding more information. But deep down he knew he wouldn’t receive it. Both of his father’s enjoyed creating surprises and hardly ever gave any sort of clue as to what it was. Getting heads up that there was going to be one at all was out of the ordinary all on its own. He decided he may as well go with it. “Fine. Fine, I’m going but only because I want to know what kind of surprise you could possibly have waiting for me at the steakhouse.”
As they walked into the dimly lit restaurant, a waft of warm fragrant air hit Peter’s face. He inhaled deeply and began to peel off some of his layers. The gloves, scarf and hat came off immediately.He shoved it all into his deep coat pockets and reached up to check the state of his hair. He was certain it looked awful. He heard his dad chuckle as he pawed at the wildest of his curls, hoping desperately to tame them. It didn’t take long for him to give up on it. The warmth of the restaurant combined with the coat he was wearing was making him sweat. He pulled that off too, sighing in relief as he draped it over his arm. With his free hand, he tugged his red cable knit sweater past his brown leather belt.
Moments after their arrival, a young woman dressed in an all black uniform came over to escort them to their usual table at the back of the room. Peter didn’t pay much attention where they were going. His brain was entirely too busy trying to work out exactly how long they would be stuck in the stuffy restaurant. He looked down at his dark brown dress pants and huffed. When the evening had originally been planned, he’d imagined it being a lot more casual. Jeans and thermal shirts, hot dogs on the go and leisurely walk from the car to Rockefeller Center. At no point had he thought he would be sitting around for over an hour with too many forks and a stupid napkin in his lap. His thoughts were interrupted when a hand began to wave back and forth past his eyes.
“Hey, Earth to, Peter,” Tony said in a tone that made Peter wonder how many times he’d already repeated the phrase. He looked up and his mouth twisting to the side and his dad smiled at him. “Are you planning on sitting down? Your surprise is here.”
Somewhere between the tower and the steakhouse, the promised surprise had completely slipped his mind. A small amount of renewed interest piqued with the reminder. He peered past his dad, toward the table, and suddenly nothing could have been more exciting than making his way around the sparsely decorated table. “Uncle Rhodey! Uncle Bucky! I didn’t know you were going to be here!” His eyes instantly fell to a third individual sitting beside them. He looked familiar. A second or two later, it clicked. “Oh wow! You’re The Falcon!” There was a beat of hesitation where he wasn’t sure what he was supposed to say. He’d met a few of the other Avengers in the past and had frozen up in the exact same way. Vaguely he wondered if he would ever get used to the experience. “I’m, uh, I’m Peter.”
“It’s nice to finally meet you, Peter,” Sam replied, his hand politely outstretched. Peter accepted it without question and shook it, perhaps a little more vigorously than necessary. “You can call me Sam.”
While Peter recovered from his latest introduction, everyone else settled into pleasant conversation. The waiter brought tall clear glasses of water to the table, and additional drink and appetizer orders were taken. Afterward, Peter was a little more prepared to participate in the friendly exchange..
“So, I’ve been spending the last week or so in Louisiana with Sam.” Bucky said, smiling in a way Peter couldn’t recall having ever witnessed before. “I met his sister and his two nephews. It was actually a lot of fun. It got me thinking- well, obviously he already knows Steve and Tony but I thought maybe it would be nice to introduce him to my honorary nephew.”
There were a million things Peter could have said or asked that would have made more sense at the moment. But he’d sort of latched onto the part where Uncle Bucky had said he’d had fun hanging out with Mr. Sam’s nephews. Before he could think it through, he blurted out, “Are you guys going to go ice skating with us?”
The entire table laughed. Peter bowed his head to conceal the way his cheeks were pinkening.
Rhodey had mercy on him and announced, “That’s the plan! Dinner and ice skating with the entire Stark-Rogers’ family.”
Peter peeked upward and smiled. It had been a year since his official entrance into the Stark-Roger’s family but hearing it out loud never failed to make him smile. “That’s actually really awesome. I’m so glad you guys came to visit.”
Chatting back and forth with his uncles made time pass a little more quickly. He listened to Uncle Rhodey talk about his work with the military and Uncle Bucky go on and on about his visit to the south. Mr. Sam was pleasant and he couldn’t help but notice the way he and Bucky looked at each other. It reminded him of his fathers.
The actual food finally arrived at the table. The talking went down to a minimum, replaced by the clinking of glasses and cutlery. Peter finished his food first, having wolfed down an entire large steak and three sides in n o time at all. At one point Tony had attempted to slow him down, insisting that he ‘taste the food that was going in his mouth.’ He’d nodded and marginally complied. Not that it had mattered. Everyone else was eating so slowly that he was let there with an empty plate and a rising amount of impatience.
“Here. You should have some of these,” Steve had said, passing over a handful of truffle potato wedges. It was an obvious attempt to placate. Peter would never admit that it worked. Grudgingly he chewed through the pile of glorified fries.
He watched carefully, waiting for the moment that each of the adults put their silverware to rest. As would be expected, Tony was the last to finish. The moment his fork hit the edge of the place, Peter sighed in relief. “Can we go now?” He sent each adult a beseeching look. “Please?”
“Kid,” Tony said, his eyes twinkling with an annoying amount of amusement. “It’s only six-thirty. The rink is open for hours yet. Even if it wasn’t I can assure you, I could make it work. Chill, please.”
Despite the kind tone, Peter felt mildly guilty for rushing. He scrunched his shoulders up and sighed. “Sorry. I’m just- I was already excited and now they’re here and that makes it even more exciting, and-”
“I hear you, Buddy,” Tony replied. “Give me a couple minutes to pay the bill and we’ll be on our way.”
A couple of minutes easily turned into fifteen, then twenty. But eventually they walked out of the restaurant. The first thing Peter noticed was that snow had started to fall. Not heavily. Just enough that a flurry of fat white flakes were visibly against the deep navy sky. Peter smiled. Snow in New York City wasn’t exactly rare or exciting. But being so close to Christmas, the stereotypical winter weather felt a bit more magical
Together they stood under the awning, waited for the valet to return with the car. The chilled wind darted past Peter’s cheeks and billows of warm vapor escaped his mouth with each breath. It was cold, but the anticipation of what would come next was enough to keep him from freezing. He looked down the hill to the sidewalk. The light streaming from the streetlamps caused the thick granules of precautionary salt to glisten. An idea was in his head and out of his mouth before he could stop it. “Can we walk?”
A heavy hand fell to his shoulder. He looked to the side to see his dad smiling at him. “Sorry, Kiddo. Can’t exactly leave the car here.”
Bucky stepped forward, both of his hands stuffed into his pockets. He tipped his head toward Sam, “We can walk with him.”
Steve’s brow furrowed. “It’s a little over twelve blocks.”
“It won’t take us more than twenty minutes to get there. With traffic and parking. We’d probably get there before you did. Besides, your car only seats five.” Bucky shrugged. “Someone was going to have to walk or call a cab anyway.”
Steve gave in with a sigh of defeat. “Yeah, okay. That’s probably true.”
“So we can walk?” Peter asked, prompting his fathers into a non-verbal conversation. They raised their brows, tilted their heads and shrugged their shoulders. Eventually Tony nodded and Steve turned back to Peter.
“We’re going to be outside ice skating for who knows how long. I suppose twenty more minutes out in the cold won’t matter much.” He took a hold of Peter's lapels and tugged him forward. The top two buttons that had been left done were fastened and the loose scarf was wrapped tightly around Peter’s neck.
“Stop it, Papa! It’s fine,” Peter protested. He unwrapped the scarf and rewound it at a more desirable tension. “You’re going to strangle me with it,”
Steve smiled as he yanked the knit hat down, over Peter’s ears and eyebrows. “I just want to make sure you’re warm, that’s all.”
“I’m warm. I promise.” Peter batted his papa’s hands away and sighed dramatically. “I’ll be even warmer once we start moving.”
“Let your Papa fuss over you,” Rhodey grinned from behind. “It’s cute.”
Peer narrowed his eyes.. “It’s not cute. I’m old enough to button my own coat.”
“Yeah?” Tony chuckled. “Then why wasn’t it buttoned?” When Peter glared in response, Tony’s face pinched, completely unamused. “Fix your face, Kiddo,” he quipped. “Maybe keep in mind that I’m the one paying for you to go ice skating tonight.”
The surly look on Peter’s face swiftly morphed into a wide grin. “Sorry! I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it.” A laugh spilled out of his mouth as he dad reached over and yanked his hat down over his eyes.
The car pulled up. Took his place by the driver side door and dug into his pocket. He pulled out a shiny black credit card and slid it across the hood. “Here. Take this. That way You three can go ahead and get in line. I’ll text you some skate sizes. Make sure they actually sanitize them. At least twice.”
Peter grabbed the card and rolled his eyes. “Sure thing, Dad. I’m actually a little surprised you didn’t pack your own sanitizer.
“Wearing double socks. I can ditch the icky pair when we’re done.” Tony winked and stepped on foot inside the car. He started to duck his head inside but stopped short. “Stay safe. Don’t do anything I would or would not do. Gray area, yeah?”
With his arms crossed tightly over his chest, Peter huffed. “All we’re doing is walking.”
“Exactly, Bud. See you soon.”
Moments later, the car revved and drove off. Peter started down the restaurant driveway. As he transitioned onto the sidewalk, salt began to crunch beneath his shoes. Snowflakes began to collect on his clothing. He outstretched his hands and spud around on the balls of his feet. “I love the snow, when it’s like this,” he chirped. “It’s less fun when it gets all gross and slushy. But this- this is perfect.”
Bucky hummed neutrally and casually slipped his hand into Sam’s. “Steve said you’ve never been ice skating before.”
“Nope!,” Peter said, turning around to walk backward as he walked. “My parents- my first parents- took me to the place in Bryant Park once but we never actually made it to the rink. When we got there the line was super long and for some reason, I'd decided to sneak into the kitchen and drink like- three cups of cocoa before we left. So after about fifteen minutes of waiting, I had to pee so bad.” He paused, grinning sheepishly as he laughed. “My dad took me to the restroom. But I was a little kid. By the time we got back, I didn’t really want to stand in line anymore. We ended up going on a carriage ride instead.”
“You never tried again?” Sam asked.
Peter shrugged his shoulders and turned around to walk forward again. “I wanted to. But the carriage ride sort of became our thing. Never got back around to trying out ice skating, I guess.”
“Stevie and I used to go ice skating every year when we were kids,” Bucky said. There was a beat of silence before he added. “A whole lot of time has passed since then, though.”
“I took my nephews a few years ago to an indoor place,” Sam chuckled. “The boys ended up spending more time in the arcade and at the snack bar than they did skating. I’m sure this will be an entirely different kind of experience.”
Peter laughed and took his surroundings. As they drew closer to Rockefeller Center, more and more decorations began to appear. Lights on trees and festive displays of large molded sculptures decorated the route. And at some point, holiday banners started to appear on some of the street lamps. There were poinsettias, pale blue snowflakes, swatches of holly, and pairs of cardinals sitting in wreaths. He chuckled happily as he spotted the bright red birds. “Did you know that female cardinals are brown?”
Sam followed Peter’s gesture and tilted his head every so slightly to the side. “I don’t suppose I ever really thought about it.”
Grinning brightly, Peter asked, “You know what that means?”
Bucky smirked. “I’m sure you’re going to tell us.”
Peter grin grew impossibly wider. He bit his lip to tame and laughed. “It means that every time you see two red cardinals all cozied up together on a Christmas card-” He paused for emphasis. “they’re gay.”
All three of them burst out laughing.
“What’s extra funny is the number of people who don’t know that," Peter cackled. “It’s great.”
“Gay birds, huh?” Bucky asked, while simultaneously wiping a joyful tear off of his cheek.
“Gay birds,” Peter repeated. At that same moment they rounded a corner bringing the very top of New York City’s icon tree well into view. “Look! I can see the tree! It’s crazy how big it is! Can you imagine decorating it? That would be so awesome.”
They pick up the pace from there, following the signs until they found the end of the skate rental line.
“Dad! Papa! Uncle Rhodey! We’re over here!” Pete waved his hands above his head until he’d grabbed their attention. Once everyone had gathered around the beacher, Peter stated handing out skates. “We didn’t have to wait long. Someone recognized Mr. Sam and took us to the front of the line!”
“That’s great, Buddy,” Tony said, then glanced warily toward Peter’s feet. “You have those laced up nice and tight?”
Peter huffed. “Yeah, because Uncle Bucky refused to let me tie my own skates.” His eyes drifted from his Dad to his Papa. “Something about a sprained ankle?”
Steve’s eyes widened. Peter giggled uncontrollably as his Papa lunged toward Bucky and whacked him on the shoulder. “It was one time, Buck!”
The mild drama simmered down quickly. Everyone got their skates on and plodded their way towards the rink. Peter got on the ice fist, feeling extremely unsteady at first. It was odd because, with his enhancements, he typically had perfect balance and agility. But something about not having his feet sticking to the ground was throwing him off. A foot slipped out from under him. He likely would have landed directly on his butt had Rhodey not caught him under the arm. He laughed, pulled away and tried again. It took a few minutes of experimentation, but eventually he was gliding smoothly over the ice. He cupped his gloved hands around his mouth and shouted toward his family. “Hey! Look at me!” All five adults smiled indulgently in response.
As everyone became more and more acclimated to the activity, they began to break off form the group. Peter watched Sam and his Uncle Bucky hold hands as they slid past him. He turned around in search of his fathers. They were also together, enjoying one another’s company. And clearly unaware that their son, or anyone else was watching them. They leaned closer, exchanged hand holding for linked elbows and kissed. Peter’s jaw dropped and his lips curled in feigned disgust as the affection went on for a second too long. “Oh, come on!” he gleefully shouted. “That’s gross. We’re in public.”
The comment did nothing but provoke his dad into kissing his papa three more times. Peter continued to complain but he didn't really mean it. He was happy that his fathers were happy. Knowing how much they loved each other made him feel warm and safe.
“Looks like you and I are sharing the third wheel for the night,” Rhodey said, skidding right up to Peter’s side. “Or is it the fifth wheel… Either way, how about we stick together.”
“Yeah!” Peter agreed. He kept in step with his uncle for a while. They laughed and talked. Mostly about Christmas plans. Peter babbled about how he’d come up with the perfect gifts for his dad, papa and friends. And Rhodey nodded along, making encouraging comments whenever he could get a word in. After a while, they fell into a comfortable silence. Peter looked around toward the middle of the rink where a few more skilled ice skaters were practicing. “Do you know how to skate backward?”
Rhode laughed and tapped the extremely high tech leg braces that were hidden beneath his slacks. “Not even a little bit. Honestly, I'm happy to be going forward.”
“I bet I could figure it out!” Peter grinned and paused by the wall. “Can I hold your hands?”
“Of, course.”
Peter wrapped his fingers around his uncle’s while sorting out the mechanics of sliding backward on the skates. He looked toward the other skaters and attempted to mimic the sway of their hips and angles of their skates. It didn’t take terribly long for him to get the hang of it. He could only assume he had his spidery balance to thank. Eventually he let go of Rhodey’s hands.
“You’re really good at this. Are you sure you’ve never ice skated before?”
Peter ginned and attempted to swap from backward to forward. When he was able to do so without a hitch, he instantly flipped back around to face his Rhodey. “It’s natural talent, I guess.”
“Natural, huh?” Rhodey attempted to look skeptical but there was a tinkle in his eyes that said he was teasing.
Peter laughed, knowing his family was well aware of his vigilante status. “Something like that.”
A minute or so later Bucky and Sam stacked up to them. Bucky nudged Peter’s arm and asked, “Do you want to race?”
Peter looked around. He was fairly certain he’d seen a rule about no racing but he couldn’t be sure. But no one else appeared to be tearing across the ice. “Is that allowed?”
“Only if they catch you,” Bucky grinned.
Skeptically, Peter narrowed his eyes. “What if we get in trouble?”
Bucky scoffed, the grin never leaving his face. “If we we get in trouble then your Dad and Papa will fish us out. It’ll be fine.” He tugged Peter to his side and readied himself to take off. “Just one loop around the outside. Ready?”
Tenacity took over, forcing Peter to lean forward, one knee bent in preparation of pushing off. “Ready!”
They two of them flew away from the others, circling the rink at a rapid pace. Peter won. But not by much. As she laughed and cheered, he felt a tug at his coat. His dad was outside the rink wall, coffee in hand. His papa wasn’t terribly far behind him, seated on the bleachers. He wondered at what point his fathers had exited the ice and how he hadn’t noticed.
“Having fun?” Tony asked.
“Yes!” Peter eagerly replied. “I swear, this is the best night ever.”
“Best night ever, huh,” Tony murmured. “If this is the pinnacal, then I guess we don’t have to stop by the bakery for holiday doughnuts and hot chocolate on the way home.”
Peter was sure he had never back-peddled so quickly in all his life. He knew exactly what bakery his dad was talking about and was not about to miss an opportunity to take part in their holiday treats. “I take it back! I take it back,” he hurriedly spat. “That would make it the best night ever,”
With a knowing chuckle, Tony patted Peter’s shoulder and glanced at his watch. “Another half an hour here? It’s getting colder and you’re Papa’s concerned you’re going to turn into an icicle.”
Peter rolled his eyes. “He worries too much.”
“Only about you,” Tony quipped. He shivered violently and took another sip of his hot drink. “I’ve been freezing since we got here. He told me to suck it up. Take advantage. Go enjoy the rest of your time.”
Peter thanked him and took off to where Bucky, Sam and Rhodey were all waiting for him.
At the end of the night, Sam and Bucky hopped in a cab together. Despite the abundance of space within the tower, they had chosen to get a hotel room in Brooklyn. His Papa suspected it was for nostalgic purposes. Whatever the reasons, it left Peter riding in the backseat beside his Uncle Rhodey.
They stopped at the bakery as promised. They had the best doughnuts ever, with custard filling and an abundance of red and green sprinkles. The hot chocolate was just as good. It came in a giant red and brown paper cup with a plastic dome top to accommodate the copious amounts of whipped cream, chocolate curls and tiny marshmallows, and came with a peppermint spoon for stirring.
With traffic the ride from the bakery to the tower was a little over half an hour. During that time, Peter munched on doughnuts and slowly drained his cup. He’d just tipped the last of the marshmallow-whipped cream sludge into his mouth when they entered the tower’s underground garage. According to the clock, it was quit ten. Even so, he was comfortably exhausted. Before he could consider stifling it, his mouth stretched open and a yawn escaped.
“Tired, champ?” Steve inquired.
Peter shrugged and wiped a gloved hand over his eyes. “A little.”
“You going to bed when we get inside?”
Peter hummed in a neutral manner. “Can we watch a Christmas movie? I don’t care which one. You can pick a super sappy one if you want to.”
Tony answered rather than Steve saying, “Uh huh. Because you know you’re just going to end up falling asleep on the couch.”
Peter couldn’t deny it.
“In that case, you should probably get ready for bed before we start it,” Steve suggested. “After that gallon of pure sugar you definitely need to brush your teeth.”
Peter climbed out of the car and tiredly leaned into his Dad’s warm body. “He worries too much,” he mumbled.
“Only about you, Buddy,” Tony chuckled. He glanced between Rhodey and Steve, then pressed a kiss against Peter’s temple. “Only about you.”