An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
Two scenes in this chapter were inspired by art created by @negativesd09 and @emkayoh, I have linked their work in the end notes.Â
Ever since Peter Anthony Stark was born, he had become the definition of a Daddyâs boy, plain and simple. Perhaps it was because he shared two of his names with his father, or perhaps it was because his father had been there to take care of him and love him when his mother could not â whatever it was, one thing was for certain, Peter Stark absolutely adored him.
He was always smiling and giggling in delight when his Daddy was in the room. His first word had been âDadaâ and his first steps had been to toddle towards his astonished father when the mansionâs A.I notified the billionaire of the new progression occurring in the childâs nursery.
There was nothing Tony Stark could do wrong in Peterâs eyes. At times, he was the only one who saw through the protective layers the genius had built over the years to see the loveable; (for lack of a better word) dorky side to the apparent well put together billionaire and business tycoon.
Tony Stark wasnât like his father. From the first time he held his new born son in his arms and gazed down in awe at the perfect little face with the tiny upturned nose, fingernails the size of a grain of rice and two beautiful dark chocolate brown eyes (an identical pigment to his own irises), he knew that he would not be Howard. He would not let his child feel neglected, worthless and the symbolism of disappointment as he had been growing up in the spotlight.
The love he had for Peter was indescribable, but those closest to him could see the irreparable bond Tony shared with his child. They were inseparable and so alike, not just in looks, but in their shared curiosity and urge to learn more, to thrive on in their own creative roots. Neither Pepper, Rhodey or Happy would ever deny that Tony was an excellent father. He had changed since Peter had arrived. The drinking and all-nighters were a relic of the past.
Now, Peter was the centre of the billionaireâs world. It hadnât been easy at first, but the little boy who shared his eyes and his high IQ had wormed his way into the billionaireâs closed heart and Tony knew deep down that he could not live without Peter. One of the best parts about being a father was seeing the pure admiration and adoration in his childâs eyes and it was very clear even from the early days when the young Stark couldnât even form words, that Peter felt exactly the same.
There was only one problem with this mutual strong connection the father and son shared. Peter had separation anxiety. He was incredibly susceptive to physical affection, which was all his fatherâs fault because the man couldnât resist kissing those cute chubby cheeks and mop of curls on a daily basis whenever he cuddled his kid in his arms.
At the age of four, Peter hadnât changed apart from growing a little taller and expanding his knowledge with the genius mind he had inherited from his father. He was still as adorable as ever and Tony just couldnât resist the inevitable urge to swing his little one into the air, heart swelling with love as the boy squealed and giggled in infectious delight at the playful action, before bringing him down and planting small kisses all over his little face like there was no tomorrow. This type of hyper scene occurred on a daily basis and it was no wonder that Peter often craved this indulgent affection as he had been raised to expect it. Â
Tony had been brought in a cold household with a detached and distant father. The only affection he received was from his mother and JARVIS, therefore as far as he was concerned he was entitled to ensure his own son knew that he was loved and cherished. Tony had very rarely experienced the tender, intimate moments he shared with his child when he was Peterâs age. He read to Peter, played with him, made him his breakfast, lunch and dinner and did everything with his son that Howard had missed out on.
As aforementioned, the only problem with his parenting style was that Peter couldnât stand to be parted from him. Tony always dreaded the inevitable business meetings where he was required to be out of Malibu a couple nights at a time, because he knew his kid would be unhappy and there was nothing he could do to sway him.
His son loved Pepper, his Uncle Rhodey and Uncle Happy, but they werenât his Daddy and no-body would ever be able to live up to the standards that his father had set. Tony never admitted it out loud, but the truth was that he hated being separated from his son too, even if it was easily perceived by Pepper when she witnessed first-hand how jittery and reserved the genius became when he couldnât be with Peter.
It just so happened that another business meeting was just around the corner yet again. Both he and Pepper were meant to be there, and Rhodes was busy with his duties for the army, so that just left Happy to watch Peter whilst Tony was away for his eleven oâclock slot.
Happy was fond of Peter, but he wasnât naturally attuned to childrenâs wants and needs and he often grumbled under his breath when he thought the others couldnât hear when the little boy would cry or would enter his âbrattyâ phase. It was very rare for Peter to do this, but it happened, as it did with all four-year olds from time to time.
Tony was keen to keep his boy distracted and entertained for the morning before he would have to leave. He had told Peter about the meeting when he went to wake him up early that morning with a gentle, warm hand stroking his sonâs back to rouse him from his slumber and a soft kiss to his curls. The boy was too lethargic to properly take the meaning behind his fatherâs words in and had mumbled some incoherent words at the mention of the business meeting, before rolling onto his back and snuggling into the manâs sturdy chest, nuzzling his face into the crook of his Daddyâs neck.
Tony huffed a laugh at the gesture, well used to Peter being pretty unresponsive and even more clingy when he first woke up and the billionaire was only too obliged to hold his kiddo close and carry him to the kitchen to make some blueberry pancakes together and forget their worries. Heading down to the lab was the next point on the agenda.
The workshop underneath the main floor of the mansion was their favourite place. It had always been Tonyâs main area of expertise, of course, as it allowed him to indulge in his genius ideas and creations and it was where he felt most at home.
As Peter was his little shadow, naturally that meant that the father had had to make a few changes to the lab to ensure it was safe for a baby to be in. The soft foamed area specifically designed for Peter, created by Tony, had been installed soon after his kid begun to display a certain neediness to be with his Daddy nearly twenty-four seven.
Peter didnât spend all his time in his highly efficient playpen though. That was only reserved for times when his father was working on something dangerous like tasering some loose wires or working with small intricate designs which required tiny bolts and gadgets that were liable for little feet to accidentally tread on. Peter spent many a time in his fatherâs arms when the man wasnât working with his hands, sitting in his Daddyâs lap and basking in the warmth and comfort that only a parent could provide.
When his son was a baby, Tony would often sit cross-legged on the floor, cradling the little one in his arms and browsing through online articles and profiles about particular topics and public figures. Peter loved the blue glow that came from the screens that seemed to float in mid-airâŠ
âŠâDa!â The baby chirped, waving one small chubby arm at a photo of an old car model from the 1960s which the billionaire was interested in buying.
âMhm,â Tony hummed, lifting his son so he was standing on the manâs legs to see the picture better. âWhat do you think, Pete? A worthy investment?â He asked, resting his chin on the top of the boyâs fuzzy chestnut curls.
Peter didnât answer with any coherent words, but he babbled enthusiastically whilst waving his little fist, drool trailing down his chin.
The father deciphered that the only reason why his kid was drawn to this 1967 Shelby Cobra model was because it was blue. It was the colour of Peterâs nursery walls, even though this was a royal blue instead of the sky shade his room boasted, but it was smart lick of paint, Tony would give it that.
âA fitting endorsement if I ever saw one,â the billionaire remarked, tilting his chin to place a quick kiss to the top of the boyâs head, before leaning round the small body to wipe away the trail of drool with the sleeve of his long-sleeved Metallica top. The baby squirmed and wriggled but didnât whimper as he was used to the man fretting over him. âYouâre a little dork, you know?â He teased.
Peterâs little face broke into a big slobbery grin at his fatherâs playful tone and the tickly feeling of the beard which was scratching against the side of his face as the man leaned close to him.
He burst into a fit of giggles, Tonyâs favourite sound in the world, which spurred him to grin and snigger at how perfect his little boy really was, nuzzling his face against Peterâs and scattering loads of small kisses all over his babyâs face.
âYeah, youâre a crazy monkey, arenât you? Crazy baby,â Tony joked between kisses, heart swelling with warmth when his kid squealed with laughter and wriggled even more.
Peter babbled some other incoherent words, but his delighted laughter was enough. Tony chuckled, warmly, rubbing his face against the little tuft of hair and closing his eyes as he inhaled the sweet smell of the apple scented shampoo he had applied the night before and something that was distinctly Peter.
âLove you, baby,â the father murmured after a few moments once the boyâs infectious giggles had reduced and the gummy smile was all that remained. Peter snuffled and cooed, nuzzling into the manâs warmth and the two remained down in the lab for the rest of the day.
Pepper found them a few hours later in a rather unresponsive state. Tony was splayed out in the playpen, top discarded beside him and Peter was lying on his bare chest.
Both were sleeping soundly, cute little snuffles escaping the baby as he nuzzled into the spot right above his fatherâs heart and the manâs hand was resting protectively on the childâs back, jaw slackened in his relaxed state but the steady grip on his son never faltering.
Pepper downright cooed at the sight and immediately asked JARVIS to take a photo and a video; smirking when he replied with an almost response that could almost be described as fond (even though it was technically an AI): âI already have, Miss Potts.â
Tony loved that picture. He had plenty of photos in a file named âPeter Anthony Starkâ, where JARVIS had been like his own personal cameraman; always being there to capture the moments, but that photo definitely had to be in the billionaireâs top five that they had collected over the past four years.
Lab time was still special, especially as Peter was big enough now to sit at his own desk and work on drawings or small DIY projects, whilst the genius tinkered a few feet away. It was the perfect way to keep his kid occupied for the morning until Happy arrived.
After devouring the blueberry pancakes, Tony scooped Peter up into his arms, licking his finger and wiping away the syrup which had spilled down the boyâs chin.
âOkay, I know you love your old manâs cooking like a champ, but you wanna try actually getting it in your mouth next time, buddy?â Tony teased, light-heartedly, tickling underneath his kidâs chin, eliciting approving giggles from the little boy as he squirmed uncontrollably in his fatherâs hold. âYou crazy demon child,â the man remarked, indulgently, bouncing the boy on his hip and tickling across his little tummy as he wandered over to the staircase leading down to the lab. Â
âDaddy, Daddy, Daddy!â Peter chirped, grinning from ear to ear and practically squealing when he realised where his father was leading them.
âPeter, Peter, Peter!â Tony replied on an instant, chuckling at the bright shine in his sonâs doe eyes.
âDaddy, I wanna, I wanna dress up as you! I wanna be you!â He was vibrating with excitement, bouncing a couple of times as he was barely able to contain his enthusiasm.
âReally? You wanna look like Daddy today?â Tony commented in mirth, smirking at his kid as he typed the pass code into the security panel. Peter was currently in his space themed pyjama top and bottoms, but he had his trainers on just in case there were sharp objects on the floor.
âMhm! Wanna be like you!â Peter expressed, enthusiastically with a serene nod, as if it was the most ordinary, everyday request. It definitely was for the son of Iron Man.
âAlright, kiddo. Weâll muck about down here for a bit and then weâll get you in your armour,â Tony joked, thinking about the Iron Man styled onesie hanging up in the boyâs wardrobe.
They didnât do anything too complicated as it was still early, and Peter was still tired, even though one wouldnât know it by looking at the ecstatic ball of energy, but Tony knew that it wouldnât be long until he crashed with the way his crazy kid was going on. The genius asked JARVIS to play some soft pop music for background noise and he let Peter sit in his lap as he sat in front of the monitors and messed about on the internet and make notes on his upcoming projects for an hour or two.
It was getting closer to eleven and Tonyâs heart sunk as he realised he would have to leave Peter soon, which was made even worse because of how perfect the morning had been up until this point. He wanted to make things as smooth as possible by keeping his son entertained, but it almost seemed to have backfired back onto the man since he would have to ruin the relaxed, peaceful mood he had created.
Tony sighed, deeply, ruffling his sonâs curls in the process from where his chin was resting on top of his head. He clicked off the document he had been working on and tilted his head to gaze down at his son, who was fiddling with an Iron Man action figure and one in the shape of an alien, making cute little âpow!â and âbang!â sounds as he made them fight each other.
The man brought his lips down and blew a small raspberry on the spot behind the boyâs ear, provoking him to snort and burst into peals of laughter, leaning against his fatherâs chest.
âDaddy silly!â He giggled.
Tony chuckled, warmly, hugging his kid close as he nuzzled his hair affectionately. âOh yeah?â
He watched on fondly as Peter played with his fingers where his hand was resting on the boyâs tummy. His hand looked so big on his childâs small body and the innocent curiosity displayed by someone so young was incredibly endearing to the elder.
âYou wanna get dressed, buddy?â Tony murmured into his sonâs curls after a couple moments of just watching his kid observe his hands like he was seeing them for the first time. It was adorable and Stark never thought that he would describe something like that in his entire life. Stark men didnât create adorable things; somehow Peter existed.
âI be like you now?â The boy asked, peering up at him with an excited grin on his face, adoration for his father shining in his brown eyes and Tony couldnât help but feel blessed.
He smiled, indulgently, bending to drop a kiss to his sonâs fore-head. âAnytime you want, kiddo,â he chuckled, swinging the boy into the air playfully and blowing another raspberry on his little pudgy belly as the pyjama top rose up from the sudden move and Peter squealed in delight, kicking his legs in his exhilaration.
Before he had his baby, Tony hadnât been one for physical affection or physical contact at all for that matter. He never liked people handing him things and it was always Happy, Pepper or Rhodes who dealt with the personal one to one contact with investors and journalists. He had become so accustomed to behaving this way that upon the discovery that he had fathered a child, his first reaction was fear. He rarely opened up to anybody and the idea that he suddenly had a tiny human being to care for and raise terrified him.
The incredible thing was that Peter made it easy. He had literally fallen in love. Pepper liked to joke that her boss had become smitten with his kid ever since he first laid eyes on him and Tony didnât even have the heart to argue. All of it belonged to Peter and he wouldnât know it yet, but in a few years, Pepper would enter his heart too and he would finally open up fully to someone other than his son.
Until then, Peter would be the sole receiver of Tonyâs physical affections. Thatâs what made the whole leaving predicament so much harder, because Peter relied on him for so much and only Tony knew all the little details about what his son liked and disliked, what he was afraid of, what brought him the greatest joys in lifeâŠhe could go on and on. Even though it physically pained the genius to hear his child crying for him, he knew that Peter couldnât live like this forever and they would have to get used to living their own lives as the boy grew older.
Tony carried the little one to his bedroom, heart sinking and stomach churning with dread as he placed the boy on his feet beside his bed and headed over to the wardrobe to grab the Iron Man onesie. He wasnât ready for the next conversation he had to have with the gleeful little boy currently bouncing on the balls of his feet at the prospect of dressing up like his Daddy and blissfully believing that they were going to be spending the whole day together, but deep down the billionaire knew that it had to be done.
When he turned back around, he couldnât help the warm smile that graced his features as his amusement caused the laugh lines around his dark eyes to crease and his lips to perk upwards, because Peter had taken the initiative to remove all of his clothes himself.
âYouâre a terrific helper, buddy,â Tony chuckled, kneeling down to be at his sonâs height so he could ask him to raise one leg to slip the onesie over his body, but he stopped to pull the boyâs underwear back up again. âSorry, Pete, gotta keep yourself tucked away during the day,â he sniggered.
âNuh uh! âm gonna be naked!â Peter giggled.
âNot gonna happen, pal. We want you to look your best for when Uncle Happy comes, right?â Tony said, pulling the onesie up over his kidâs shoulders and zipping it up. The comment left a bitter, sour taste in his mouth as it cemented the fact that he would be leaving his son in little more than half an hour.
âWe goinâ out with Uncie Happy?â Lordy, this was going to be funâŠ
Tony smoothed the wrinkled fabric down and gently gripped the boyâs arms. âNo, bud, you remember what I told you this morning when I woke you up? Your Uncle Happy is coming to spend some time with his favourite nephew whilst Daddy goes for his meeting,â he spoke softly and reassuringly, although it didnât do him any favours because the moment his words left his lips, the boyâs face immediately scrunched up and his bottom lip trembled.
âNo,â Peter whimpered. âDaddy stay with Peter.â
Jesus, the poor kid only now seemed to notice that the man was dressed smartly in one of his expensive suits.
Tonyâs heart broke at his kidâs trembling voice and his little plea, as tears formed in his eyes. The father reached up with one hand to cup his childâs soft cheek and catch a fallen tear on his thumb as it fell.
âIâm sorry, baby, I wish I could. You know that I would stay and play with you all day if I didnât have important work to see to,â the man explained.
âBut Auntie Pep can do your work and you stay here?â Peter said, toying on his bottom lip with his pointer finger as his big doe eyes begged the man to stay with him. God, this kid was so damn smart, but he was so damn innocent still.
Despite the gloominess of the situation, Tony couldnât help but chuckle at his kidâs optimism. âItâs not that simple, honey. Pepper isnât the head of the company, so there are some things that she canât do, but guess who can?â
âYou,â the little boy mumbled, reaching up to rub at his nose as he sniffled.
The billionaire smiled, sadly, rubbing his hands up and down his sonâs arms in what he hoped would be a comforting gesture. âExactly, buddy, good job. If I donât show up, then I would get a big telling off and you wouldnât want that to happen to Daddy, right?â
Tony couldnât stand the completely dejected look on his kidâs usually beaming face; it felt like his insides were being ripped apart. âCâmon, Petey, lemme see that billion-dollar smile,â he coaxed, tickling the boyâs ribs and under his arm pits, two sensitive areas which never failed to get the little one giggling hysterically.
Peter only fidgeted a bit at the move, a stubborn pout protruding on his lips and he crossed his arms to effectively stop his fatherâs tickling and the elder had no choice but to take his hands away and raise an eyebrow at his kidâs attitude.
âIf you canât stay with me, then Daddy take Peter with!â The boy suddenly announced, tone completely deadpan and leaving no room for argument.
It was quite the statement from a four year-old child, but it amused the father because his kid sounded so much like him. He was just as stubborn and enthusiastic once he got an idea in his head and Peter clearly thought that he had just come up with a brilliant idea, judging by the satisfied glint in his eye, refusing to back down.
âI donât know about that, buddy.â He couldnât stop the huge smirk tugging at the corner of his lips, hands gently resting on his sonâs hips as he spoke. âA lot of business people donât like kids, theyâre nasty old men who donât care about anyone, especially little boys like you. You wouldnât want to sit in a boring room with dudes like that, would you?â
Peter shook his head, his determination not once wavering even if the idea of scary old people scrutinising him did give the child some sense of anxiety. He didnât care, he only wanted to be with his Daddy.
âI be with Daddy, bad guys donâ matter,â he stated. His fierce attempt at a serious expression was adorable, if not slightly worrying to the concerned father.
Tony caught his bottom lip between his teeth, eyebrows narrowing as he studied his kid for a moment in pure disbelief. He wasnât usually left speechless by anybody and always managed to have the last word, but he was pretty much flawed. His four year-old had stunned him, but he supposed it wasnât the first time Peter had done this, the little bugger had made him incredibly soft and Tony knew it.
He sighed through his nose, leaning forward to scoop the boy up into his arms, staring into his childâs eyes in admiration at his valiant efforts. He supported his sonâs lower half with one arm as he playfully bopped his kidâs nose with the other hand, causing it to scrunch up as Peter giggled at the gesture.
âYouâre incredible, Pete. Four years old and youâre already leaving your Dad lost for words, what is the world coming to, huh?â Tony spoke, jovially, shaking his head in wonder.
âLove Daddy!â Peter chirped, sweetly.
A soft look crossed the billionaireâs face, paternal love for his child glimmering in his chocolate brown eyes and he leaned forward to rub his nose against the boyâs, giving him an Eskimo kiss. Peter loved these kisses the most and he was in a fit of giggles immediately, squealing with delight at his fatherâs affections.
âSir, Mr Hogan has arrived,â JARVIS suddenly announced. Perfect timing.
âThanks, J,â Tony murmured, pressing a kiss to his sonâs fore-head and making his way out of the boyâs room and down to the foyer. He braced the back of his kidâs head, allowing him to cuddle close since it was the least he could do, because he knew that he was in for one hell of a goodbye in a few moments.
Happy was just walking through the front door when father and son arrived, tucking the car keys into his pocket.
âHey, Hap. Good drive?â
âAs good as it can be. Howâs the kid?â The driver asked, gaze drifting to the boy in his best friendâs arms. The sight certainly wasnât anything new for him, especially when his boss had a business meeting.
âSulking,â Tony smirked, bouncing his kid gently on his hip, who refused to move his face from the crook of the manâs neck.
âHe been good his morning?â
âAs good as he can be,â Tony retorted with a cheeky wink and a mischievous smirk. âNah, heâs been great. Heâs just a little cutie-pie, arenât you, pal?â He spoke with a high lift in his voice, bouncing his kid and tickling across the boyâs rib cage, eliciting some high pitched squeals and bombastic laughter as Peter finally removed his face from the manâs neck.
âThere he is, thereâs my handsome little guy,â Tony beamed, pleased that his son was now smiling brightly. Speaking too soon⊠âHey, Pete, Uncle Happyâs here, you wanna say hi?â
âHey, buddy,â Happy greeted, walking up to the two with a kind smile.
âHi, Uncie Happy!â Peter waved and reached over to give the driver a hug, Tony taking the opportunity to transfer the boy into the other manâs arms. Happy squeezed the child warmly and caught his friendâs eye, who smiled sadly and reached over to gently stroke his sonâs hair.
Tony leaned in to press a quick kiss to the top of his kidâs head, murmuring in his ear, âSee you soon, kiddo. Love you.â
He should have just left as soon as he placed Peter in Happyâs arms, because what followed was definitely all on him. He hated leaving his kid just as much as Peter detested it and it probably would have been better if he had just snuck out, so he didnât have to put them both through the heavy emotions that came with their separation.
The moment the low goodbye left his lips, Peter suddenly burst into tears. His chest heaved dangerously with his heavy sobs and hitching breaths, both arms reaching out for Tony desperately.
âN-no, D-Dada, donât go!â Peter howled, cries only increasing as he made grabby hands at his Daddy, whose pained expression caused Happy to make the quick decision to transfer the hysterical child back into his fatherâs arms. His wailing still persisted even when he was as close as he could be to the man.
âSh, sh, shh, come on, baby, itâs alright. Shhh, itâs okay, Iâm right here, Daddyâs here, sweetheart, shhâŠâ Tony hushed, quietly, subconsciously rocking his son and nuzzling his fluffy curls, affectionately, placing delicate kisses across flushed cheeks and temples. The poor kid was bawling, his face bathed in tears and his grip on his fatherâs suit jacket exceedingly tight for one so small.
Happy watched on worriedly, eyebrows raised in concern at the boyâs complete meltdown. Tony usually managed to leave before things got this ugly, as Happy, Pepper or Rhodes were able to distract the kid with his Legos or some kind of game, so he wouldnât bring out the waterworks like this. It wasnât often that Tony got dragged away to these damn business meetings, so he supposed that it was just too much for the kid this time, as it had been a while since the man had been called away and it explained the extreme outburst from Peter.
The kid eventually managed to calm himself, but it took several minutes of Tony cradling him, rocking him and murmuring sweet nothings into the boyâs hair for Peterâs heart-wrenching sobs to reduce in their volume. He was still crying softly into his Daddyâs shoulder, begging for him to stay.
âAlright, screw this,â Tony spoke after a few more minutes, voice hoarse and rough as he stroked the back of his sonâs head whilst continuing to bounce him with his other hand. âIâm taking him with and youâre driving.â
âWait, youâre what?!â Happy exclaimed.
âThereâs no fu-freaking way Iâm leaving him here. Câmon, buddy, letâs get your toy,â Tony said, leaving no room for argument, as he hefted the boy higher on his hip and headed back towards Peterâs bedroom. Happy was left standing in the hallway, completely flabbergasted.
The billionaire didnât relinquish his hold on his son as he allowed the boy to reach for his Iron Man figure, but before he could dash back to Happy, Peterâs squeals of protest stopped him.
âWhat is it, Pete? Weâre gonna be late.â
âWant my crayons, Daddy!â
Tony sighed, grabbing the colourful box that was sat on Peterâs dresser and a little notebook, stuffing them in the inside pocket of his suit jacket, before making his way back to the foyer. He didnât care that he shouldnât be giving in to his kidâs desires like this; he couldnât stand listening to those horrible cries and begging anymore, and he figured it would just be easier for everybody if he brought Peter with. He could worry about what the board members would think later.
âRight, letâs go,â Tony ordered, slightly breathless from all the running around, but he was pleased when the driver simply shrugged and followed him to the car. He could always count on Happy to just trust his judgement and go along with whatever he came up with, even if it was ridiculous.
Tony climbed into the back seat, sitting Peter in his lap and pulling the seatbelt over the both of them. He was exhausted, emotionally and physically and he didnât have the heart to force the kid into his own seat, not after the huge meltdown he had just witnessed. Happy immediately pressed the button to slide the privacy screen up the moment father and son got themselves settled.
Peter appeared pretty content with their seating arrangements, sitting sideways on his fatherâs lap with his legs stretched out across the next seat and a small smile on his face as he nuzzled it into the manâs sturdy chest. Tony was aware that it wasnât the safest position for the boy to be in, but he trusted Happy to get them safely to this damn meeting and there was no way the genius was letting his kid leave his arms now after their eventful morning. He felt like he was going to get whiplash soon with all this hot and cold, but he supposed this was what it was like having a little human that took after him.
Tony was drawn out of his thoughts when he felt Peter rummaging inside his suit jacket, fishing out two crayons, one bright red and the other yellow. His other hand was still accommodated with clutching onto his Iron Man figure, which he held close to his chest as if it were the most precious thing in the world.
âWhatâre you up to, buddy?â Tony asked, fondly, gaze soft as he watched the boy.
âDwawing,â Peter said and before the man had a chance to decipher what on earth his son was saying, his kid reached up and drew a big red line down his fatherâs cheek.
Tony should have pulled away, any normal person would if they were expected to look their best at an important business meeting in less than ten minutes. No. The only movement he made was to smile, affectionately, allowing Peter to colour all over his face. God knows what he was mapping out, but Tony simply gave him the freedom to do it.
âWe match now, Daddy,â Peter giggled after a few more minutes, giving a little bounce of excitement in his fatherâs lap as he beamed proudly.
Tony raised an eyebrow at this and took his phone out of his pocket to get the camera up and observe his reflection. Peter had attempted to draw a replica of the Iron Man mask with about as much accuracy and detail a four year-old could muster. It was pretty hilarious considering the fact that if Peter really wanted him to take on his alter ego image, he could have just pressed a button on his StarkWatch and the armour would be there in less than five seconds.
The genius scoffed at his very narcissistic image, but there was no possibility that he was going to spoil his kidâs enjoyment, so he simply cuddled him close and kissed his little nose. âGood boy, you did a great job,â he murmured, resting his fore-head against his sonâs and smiling when Peter hummed happily at the praise.
Despite Happyâs excellent driving, they still turned up at the offices about fifteen minutes late into the two hour meeting and Tony gave a little sigh as they pulled up around the back. He secured his hold on his son and climbed out the car, giving his friend an appreciative pat on the shoulder, before dashing into the reception area.
The female receptionist gave him a strange, yet slightly bemused look, but he wasnât surprised considering the current state of the normally well presented Tony Stark and his young son who was usually kept out of the public eye. A small smile quirked at the corner of her lips as her gaze trailed over the drawing on his face, but she politely chose not to comment on it and sign them in.
Tony took the lift to the top floor, tapping his foot impatiently as he watched the number dial slowly increase.
âWill you still be in twouble?â Peter asked, blinking up at him with wide curious, innocent eyes. âLate?â
âNaahh, Iâve got my armour on. Nothing can get through that, youâre keeping me safe, kiddo,â Tony chuckled, brushing some hair back from his sonâs fore-head, who grinned at the comment.
As soon as the doors binged open, the billionaire was off like a shot towards the correct room, not even pausing to knock and instead opting to head straight in. The door banged against the wall as it was slammed open and every head in the room whipped towards the source of the sudden loud noise, many jumping upright in their seats.
âSorry Iâm late. Peter was a nightmare this morning,â Tony said, walking over to the nearest free seat, which happened to be right next to Rhodes.
Everyone was too stunned to speak at the baffling sight of their boss with crayon all over his face and his child dressed in what appeared to be Iron Man pyjamas, clutching an Iron Man figure in his hand as he played with it quietly and ignored the onlookers.
Tony collapsed in the chair, sitting Peter on the table so that he was facing him, and he could give his arms a rest. He didnât even need to look in his best friendâs direction to know that he was currently on the receiving end of one hell of a perplexed stare.
âDonât even ask,â was all the exhausted genius could muster, only glancing at him in the corner of his eye.
âTonyâŠâ Pepper, who was standing at the front and had been leading the presentation, sighed vehemently, bracing the side of her face with her hand in despair.
It would be many years later when those closest to Peter would look back on that bizarre turn of events fondly and they would always view the day that Tony Stark decided to take his clingy son to a business meeting as one of the best examples of the billionaire being a great parent. Tony liked to secretly agree.
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