Iron Dad One Shots (mcu)

can i make peace with the shit that you do? (i dont think i want to)

"You're disappointed in me. Right?"

Peter tilts his head up at glares at the ceiling like it's personally offended him. He wishes, for just a brief moment, he could redirect his biting gaze elsewhere. But he doesn't. (Never let it be said he doesn't have at least some self-restraint.)

Tony's lab couch is a mess of miscellaneous crumbs and coffee stains. Threads of the blue fabric fray out every which way, tickling at his back and legs. It's a ratty old thing, and Peter desperately wishes Tony would replace it. He doesn't know how Tony can sleep on the damn thing almost every night, especially when he has a perfectly good, fluffy bed waiting just upstairs.

Idly, Peter reaches down and pulls at a loose thread, gritting his teeth at the odd texture.

"No, Mr. Stark." The words leave his mouth mechanically. He feels like a broken record with how much he's been repeating himself today. "I'm not."

Be patient. Just stay patient. Just—

"Are you sure?"

Fuck you.

"Mr. Stark, I don't know what else you want me to say." Peter raises his hands up helplessly, outstretched with his palms up as if physically searching for a better answer. "I'm not mad. I'm not disappointed. We're fine, you know? Totally fine."

"It's not fine." Tony argues, and, ah, there it is. He doesn't want the truth from Peter — he wants punishment. He wants hurt.

Peter could easily give in to it. To let Tony take the fall and let him wallow for the next week. He could do that.

He doesn't. He's younger, much younger, but sometimes, he really does feel more mature than Tony. Not in a bad way — not like Tony's childish or petulant. Not like Peter's better for it.

The truth is, Peter knows what a whirlwind of emotions feels like. He knows how to have complicated emotions. He can feel conflicted on things, he can allow that. Largely thanks to having good role models, a strong support system and healthy coping mechanisms.

Tony? Tony had none of that. Tony was a hurricane, overwhelming and underwhelming, either too much or too little but never quite enough. At least, not in his own eyes. He shuts out the good in the world and invites the monsters to his doorstep. It's how he operates. It's uniquely Tony, and Peter doesn't understand it, not really, but he accepts it.

The two were more different than they liked to admit to themselves.

Peter will spend his entire life trying to figure Tony out. (He does not know that Tony will do the same for him.)

"Mr. Stark." Peter looks at Tony, who won't look back at him. That sends a sharp sting of irritation through his spine, but he tampers it as he chooses his next words carefully. "You're not a bad person. You're not evil or messed up."

"I'm a little messed up."

"A little," Peter concedes easily, "but my point stands. Tony, you relapsed. It's okay. It happens. Sobriety isn't easy."

Tony inhales deeply, and Peter wishes the man could just sink his claws into the moral and grasp it.

"You went six months without drinking." Tony visibly winces at the reminder. Peter's first thought is to apologize, but he needs to keep hitting the point home. "Now? Now we shoot for seven. Eight, nine, ten, hell, we shoot for years without touching a drop. Maybe you'll do it, maybe you won't. But that's what we shoot for." He bites his lip. "Cause the truth is, maybe it's a little unrealistic to wish you would never drink again. To wish that for anyone. All we can hope for is that the gaps in between relapses grows and grows."

Tony stands, suddenly, making Peter flinch at the sudden moment. He looks at Peter, eyes a bit misty but otherwise not displaying any clear emotion. "What if it doesn't? What if I turn back into who I used to be?"

Peter's eyebrows knit together. "That's impossible."

"How do you know that?"

"Because look at you, Tony!" He snaps, standing up from the terrible couch and gesturing wildly towards the other man. "You are Iron Man. You have a fiancé. You have friends who would do anything for you. You have me." He swallows, daring to look into his mentor's eyes. "You have me. You have me, Tony, you understand?"

Tony just stares, doesn't seem to fully understand. Peter just wants to shake him until his brain stops malfunctioning.

How hard is it to understand that Peter is there for him?

"You're a smart kid." Tony smiles, but it's shaky. "You know that?"

"I'm aware." Peter doesn't smile. "Do you understand, Tony?"

Tony's Adam's apple bobs as he swallows the lump in his throat. He opens his mouth and closes it like a fish out of water. Peter could honest to god laugh at the display if he weren't about to throw a brick at him.

"Yeah." Tony nods, dropping his head like he suddenly became too weak to even hold it up. Maybe he did. "Yeah. I get it."

Peter steps forward. "Now I'm gonna hug you."

Tony says nothing, just opens his arms and lets Peter pull him close.

"You're good, Tony." Peter says. Means it with every fiber of his being. "You're good."

"We've moved past Mr. Stark, huh?" Tony chuckles after a moment.

Peter's face heats up. "I... no?"

"Damn." Tony clicks his tongue. "And here I thought we were making progress."

Peter laughs despite everything, resting his chin on Tony's shoulder. "You're an ass. And you need a new couch."

"Peter!" Tony cries, scandalized. "Oh, he didn't mean that, Linda."

"Linda. You named your couch Linda."

"She has feelings, Peter."

"Oh, I'm sure."

The two burst into a fit of giggles, still clinging to each other with everything they have. Once it dies down, Tony grows oddly quiet.

"I'm sorry, Pete. I'm sorry I relapsed. I was hoping... I could be better for you."

"You are." Peter whispers, pulling back just enough to look into his eyes. "You already are."