“We should meet for another debriefing this afternoon. Everyone good for around 3:00?”
“Sorry, Rogers.” Tony said, not glancing up from his phone. “Peter’s out at 3:15.”
Natasha rolled her eyes. “Have Happy get him.”
“No can do. It’s Friday.”
The entire team just stared at him. Tony snorted in indignation.
“Friday is Ice Cream Day. Kid and I are working through all the joints between his school and the Tower. I can’t ditch Ice Cream Day.”
“Tony, this is a meeting about how we’re going to deal with an elusive but highly volatile terrorist network.”
“Sounds like a meeting that can wait until the kid’s on patrol.”
Steve sighed, running a hand down his face. “When’s his patrol?”
“8:00 to 11:00 on weekdays. He gets to stay out until 1:00 on Fridays, though.”
Rhodey didn’t even try to muffle his groan. “Let him go out early, Tony. The kid’ll be thrilled and we can get the meeting over with when it’s still daylight.”
“Nope.” He said, popping the ‘p,’ “Routine is important for teenagers, and he usually eats dinner at 6:30.”
“Which means he could leave at 7:00.”
“Gotta have time to let the food settle, Rhodey. He’ll make himself sick otherwise.”
“I swear-” Sam threw his hands up in the air, laughing a little hysterically, “is this actually happening right now? Is everyone else hearing this?”
“Hearing what?” Tony snapped.
“You,” he replied, gesturing wildly at where the billionaire was sitting casually in one of the leather conference chairs and looking completely oblivious, “being a dad.”
Tony just stared, and then spoke in a deadpan. “I’m not his dad.”
Sam snorted. “You know his schedule.”
“I’m his mentor, it’s my job to check up on him.”
“You got new curtains in the Compound because the kid didn’t like the old ones.”
“The kid said that yellow makes him anxious-”
“You can name all his favorite songs in order.”
“You do know that. I’ve heard you list them.” Rhodey added, a little apologetic. “And I mean, Tones, you’ve got his report card hanging up in your lab.”
“Kid got straight A’s in all his AP courses! That’s impressive!”
“You’re his dad, Tony.” Steve broke in, trying to cover a smirk. “Honestly, I think the only person who doesn’t know that is you.”
There’s a moment where Tony just blinked, and then sighed. “You forgot Peter.”
Rhodey laughed so loudly that the entire room jumped. “Peter knows it better than anyone, Tones. In fact, the poor kid would probably be heartbroken that you didn’t know it, too.”
“He doesn’t want me as a role model.”
“You wanna bet?” The Colonel tugged out his phone with a smirk. “I think a little demonstration is in order.”
“He’s at school.” Tony muttered. “You can’t call him.”
“He’s at lunch right now, which you know very well.”
“How the hell do you know that?”
“Because I’ve heard you talk about his schedule more than I’d like to admit.” He hit dial and turned the line to speaker as it rang.
“Mister Rhodes, Sir?” Peter’s voice was breathless with excitement, and Tony smothered a fond smile behind his palm. “Is everything okay? Is Mister Stark alright?”
“Everything’s fine, Pete. Tony is, too. Just saw him, actually, and it got me thinking.”
“Oh, yeah? About, uh, about what?”
“Well, remember when you asked me about Father’s Day?” Tony’s eyes snapped up to meet Rhodey’s, and the Colonel just winked. “I think he’d like the first idea you had.”
“You think?” There was a pause, and Tony could practically see the kid scuffing the toes of his ratty Converse against the school’s linoleum floors. “I kinda feel stupid about doing something at all, honestly. What if he thinks I’m being, like, too forward about it?”
“Oh no, Peter, he wouldn’t think that at all. He was just raving about you in the meeting, actually.”
There was such a delicacy to the hope kid’s voice, and it nearly crushed Tony. “He was?”
“Absolutely.”
“Oh, that’s… that’s really nice.” Another pause. “He’s getting me for ice cream today.”
“I heard. He’s really excited.”
“He is?”
“Ice Cream Fridays, right? Made us schedule a meeting around it and everything.” Rhodey smiled. “Hanging around you is good for him, kid.”
“It’s-It’s good for me, too, Sir. It’s… really nice to have him around. I-I’ve always had May but then Uncle Ben and I-well, I didn’t really think I’d have that again, you know?”
Rhodey kicked his feet up on the table, braces whirring mechanically, and went in for the kill.
“Didn’t think you’d get to have another father figure, you mean.”
“Y-Yeah. A father figure. That’s-That’s what he is.” Peter sighed. “Is it… okay, do you think? For me to think of him like that?”
The entire room swiveled to look at Tony, and Rhodey held out a hand in an invitation for him to give or deny his consent.
He bit his tongue and rolled his eyes, shooting the Colonel a begrudging thumbs up, hyper-aware of the reaction it would incite. Sure enough, the rest of the team scrambled to muffle their amused laughter behind elbows and cushions.
“I think it’s totally fine, Peter.” Rhodey shot Tony another wink. “Something tells me he’d love it, actually.”
“Oh, that’s good.” In classic Parker fashion, he whiplashed the conversation from serious to lighthearted in a split second. His demeanor re-inflated, and his next words were practically vibrating with energy. God, Tony thought, I love this kid. “Do you need anything else from me, Mister Rhodey Sir? It’s just, it’s not like I don’t love talking to you, but I’ve got a Calculus quiz in a bit and I’d love to run through some of my notes before-”
“You’re good, kid. I’ll see you later, okay?”
“Yeah! Of course! Oh, and if you see Tony again? Will you, uh- actually, no. Nevermind. I’ll tell him myself. Bye, Mister Rhodey!”
“Bye, Peter. Good luck on your test.”
“Thank you!”
Sam was the first to speak once the line went dead, voice dripping with satisfaction. “Not his dad, huh?”
“Oh, fuck off, Wilson.” Tony pointed dangerously at Rhodey. “And you’d better not spill that kid’s Father’s Day plans, Rhodes. I want it to be a surprise.”
ok, but what if peter finds all those children’s drawings tony keeps and finds the one he sent to iron man after being saved by him at stark expo and tells tony he’s the one who drew that
tony would be weeping like a baby
Oh look my hand slipped
“Hey, this is mine!”
Tony looked up from where he was moving boxes around. The lab was getting a bit crowded with him, Bruce, Vision, and the bots in there already, and with Peter joining them more often, accidental bumping was becoming a more common occurrence. So, Tony had decided to clean out the back storage space of the lab so he could expand it, that way everyone would have their own little corner. However, that involved cleaning. Which meant going through a bunch of boxes and deciding what to keep and what to move into storage.
Peter was sitting hunched over a box he’d just opened, holding and slightly crinkled piece of paper in his hands.
“What are you talking about, kiddo?” Tony asked, dropping the box on top of the stack next to him.
Peter got up from his own box and brought the paper over to Tony, shoving it in his face.
“That box had a bunch of kids drawings and stuff and Iron Man stuff, so I wanted to see what all was in it,” Peter said, smiling at the paper in Tony’s hands, “and I found my drawing!”
Tony looked down at the drawing in his hands.
On it, a little boy in Iron Man armor was fighting off a bigger, clunkier suit of armor, standing next to a taller, more adult looking Iron Man armor. They stood side by side with their hands out, shooting repulsors at the cluncky armor. A speech bubble popped out of Tony’s armor, saying “Nice job, kid!”
Tony recognized the drawing. It had been one of his favorites. He’d gotten it not long after the Stark Expo incident of 2010, and it had really helped him feel better after the whole “Tony Stark, not recommended” fiasco. If he remembered correctly, the picture came with a letter from some kid, telling him that they were excited they got to see him at the Expo, even if “Mr. Hammer” had ruined it for everyone in the end. The letter was probably over in that box where Peter had found the picture.
“This was yours?” Tony asked, a weird, warm feeling spreading through his chest. His throat feels weirdly tight, and he’s sure it’s probably just dust or something kicked up from moving boxes that’s making his eyes water, too.
“Yeah!” Peter nodded enthusiastically, “look at the back.”
And sure enough, there on the back, printed in somewhat jagged child crayon block letters, was the signature P. Parker.
“I remember drawing it and sending it to you after you saved me at the Expo that year.”
Ice suddenly floods Tony’s veins as he flips the picture back over. The memory of a kid, a stupid, stupidly brave kid standing up to a Hammer drone with nothing but a plastic Iron Man mask and a fabric glove with LED repulsors built in. If JARVIS hasn’t called the boy to his attention as he flew by, that kid would’ve been—
“That was you?!” Tony practically shouts, his head swinging back up to look at Peter with wild eyes.
Peter doesn’t seem to notice Tony’s freak out in front of him, his eyes still dancing over the picture.
“That was the coolest day of my life, honestly. I couldn’t believe I actually got to see you in the armor. I don’t think Uncle Ben really believed me when I told him, now that I think about it, but he helped me send this to you to say than— Hey, Mr. Stark, are you okay? You look a little pale, do you need to— oomph!”
The breath is knocked out of him when Tony suddenly grabs onto Peter’s t-shirt and pulls him against his chest. His hands come up automatically to rest loosely on Tony’s back, the exact opposite to the way Tony’s hands are clenched in Peter’s shirt, his old drawing crinkling slightly in his clenched hand.
“Uhh.. Mr. Stark?” Peter says timidly, suddenly unsure of himself, “Are you okay?”
“Shut up, Pete,” Tony says into his shoulder. Peter’s eyes widen at how choked Tony sounds, and he almost thinks he feels wetness on his shoulder where Mr. Stark’s eyes are.
“Is this— is this a hug? Because if it’s not I don’t want to make it weird again—“
“Kid, just let it happen.”
Peter stands shocked for a minute before shrugging within the hug.
“Okay!” Peter says brightly. He brings his arms up to wrap tighter around Tony’s chest and he lets his head rest on Tony’s shoulders, a small smile pressing against Tony’s shirt.
Tony just clutches him tighter.
Stupid dust in my eyes, he thinks, ignoring the warmth he feels spread in his heart when Peter hugs him back.
what i do is not up to you 