In Which Peter is Terrible at Making Excuses
“What do you mean you're not free all summer?” Tony frowns, turning in his seat as he faces Peter. They're in the workshop, a project on Tony's desk as Peter helps him by handing any part or tool he needs.
“Yeah, Pete. The hell do you mean you're not free all summer?” Aster pipes in, also frowning although they're pretty occupied with… whatever it was they were occupied with.
“I just mean, I'm not available. Like, at all,” Peter just says, unsure how to explain his situation without making it sound too absurd (Aster) and too worrying (Tony). He's sure that the excuse of ‘My mom, who's a goddess, is worried that monsters are gonna come maul me and she's sending me away to a magical camp where I can at least be protected, weird right, haha’ wasn't going to cut it. He busies himself with a nearby toolbox, rummaging through it rather aimlessly.
“Yeah, we know that, but why?” Tony only elaborates, raising an eyebrow at him. He's clearly unconvinced that Peter is suddenly unavailable for the entire summer, not unless he had a good reason and if Tony knows anything about Peter, him fidgeting with something meant that he had either a serious explanation or something entirely absurd. And by also knowing anything about Peter, he's sure it's going to be an interesting mix of the two.
“I just have some…” Peter trails off, “Family business. Yeah, with some other family that I have.”
“Pete, no offence, but the only family you have are us, the amazing Stark-Strange family, Aunt May and I’m pretty sure Shuri’s adopted you as her younger brother as a whole,” Aster simply responds, quick to quip as they also raise a pointed eyebrow at Peter.
Tony turns to face his eldest, “Since when were we the ‘Stark-Strange’ family?”
“Since now, because I made that up. Get married faster, will ya?” Aster cheekily smiles, narrowly dodging an old rag that was targeted straight for their head.
Rolling his eyes, Tony turns back to face his intern (mentee, impromptu son, a kid he would burn the world for), “But why so sudden? This is the first you’ve ever cancelled on us for family business.”
“I know, it’s really weird, usually it’s not that much of a problem, but something came up and it’s really important,” Peter feels bad for lying, because he knows that’s only part of the case. But it’s not like Mr. Stark or Mr. Dr. Strange would really understand his situation (Maybe Mr. Dr. Strange would more than Mr. Stark), especially when anything remotely related to Greek mythology was covered up by the ‘Mist’. It was hard enough to explain to people why something that he was near suddenly caught on fire, or suddenly crumbled to dust, or disappeared entirely, without sounding insane.
Tony frowns still, unconvinced of the reason that Peter had given but eventually gives in. At the end of the day, Tony was not Peter’s true father, not even with the mental adoption papers he’d conjured up in his head. It technically wasn’t his place to tell the kid what to do and what not to do.
“Alright then, if it’s that important to cancel on us, then I suppose it’s fine,” Tony says, relenting as he shrugs. Peter could almost faint out of relief.
“Thank you, Mr. Stark. Again, I’m so sorry for cancelling out on you, especially so suddenly,” He apologizes once more, getting a chuckle and a smile from Tony.
“Don’t worry, Underoos. Just finish whatever family business you need to finish, it’s no big deal.”
Aster decides to butt in, “Yes it is, Peter’s going to miss the barbeque.”
“Who’s going to miss the barbeque?” a voice speaks up and all three of them turn their heads toward the entrance of the workshop just as three other people enter - Harley, who carried a bag of presumably coffee and food, Stephen, who was carrying Morgan, and the little girl herself, who looked confused and hurt at the implication that someone was going to miss the barbeque apparently.
Aster nods their head in Peter’s direction, “Pete. He’s got something to do over the summer, so he’s not coming for the family barbeque.”
Morgan’s look of confusion and hurt morphs into a more aggrieved and pained one.
“You’re not coming??” she asks and Gods, the sadness in her voice is almost enough to make Peter cry in unison with the girl, “Why? You said you’d come, why aren’t you coming now??”
“I’m sorry, Morgs, but I’m busy,” he barely manages to grit out. Why was he so emotionally weak to children?
Stephen only incredulously raises an eyebrow (Why in Hades was everyone raising eyebrows at him today??), “So suddenly? This is the first time you've decided to cancel on us, Peter.”
“Did you blow something up and now you’re getting arrested and you don’t wanna tell us?” Harley adds in, putting the bag on a nearby table. Everyone turns to look at him.
“What? It’s possible,” he shrugs in response. Peter sighs.
“No, it’s just, just some family business. They need me apparently and it’s important,” the teen manages to come up with an excuse plausible enough to be believable and honestly, considering his bloodline and history, it’s not far off from the actual reason. Thankfully, Harley and Stephen seem to drop the subject (Though from Stephen’s looks, he wasn’t all that convinced) as Morgan continued to look like a kicked puppy.
She clambers down from Stephen’s arms, making the man startled as she squirms and practically flings herself out. When she is set on the ground, she wastes no time going straight to Peter to tug on his pants and- fuck, the puppy dog eyes!
“Can you not come to the barbeque, Peter?” she asks, her lower lip trembling as if she was about to burst into tears if Peter said no.
“Ah, I really wish I could, Morgs, but…” Peter winces as she watches Morgan’s eyes begin to tear up. Luckily, Tony decides to swoop in, getting up from his chair to scoop up his little girl into his arms.
“You heard Peter, baby bear. He can’t come to the barbeque, so it’ll just be you, me, Harley, Aster, Strange and maybe uncle Rhodey can come,” he says soothingly to Morgan as she pouts and juts out her bottom lip in such a way that Peter wishes he could say that he was coming.
“But I want Peter to come, why isn’t Peter coming?” she whines, lightly punching Tony’s shoulders.
“Because he can’t, alright? Let’s go to the kitchen and see if we can get ice cream, is that alright with you?” Tony sighs, not bothered in the slightest as his youngest child throws a slight fit in his arms.
“I thought Pepper put you on a strict diet?” Harley questions with a raised eyebrow.
“What Pepper doesn’t know won’t hurt her,” Tony only says coolly, already making his way to the doors, “Besides, who can say no to ice cream?”
“I can,” Stephen deadpans.
“Yeah, that’s cause you’re boring, Doctor Wizard,” Aster huffs in response. They dodge another ragcloth that goes flying for their head.
“And because you hate the Stark Raving Hazlenut ice cream in the freezer,” Harley then adds, also dodging a ragcloth that goes for his head.
“It’ll be a cold dead day when I try that flavour,” Stephen huffs, partially scowling at the prospect.
“Just admit that you hate it so much because you’ve had the authentic thing and it doesn’t taste as good-” Aster doesn’t get to finish that sentence as a small blast of magic deliberately misses the teen. Stephen glares at Aster, daring the other to continue their sentence, although from the way they smirk in retaliation tells Peter that they have no regrets.
“Say that again, I dare you,” he grumbles.
“You suck on Dad’s balls,” they respond with a grin.
Peter only watches with a slight smile as Aster bounces to their feet and goes sprinting out the door, Stephen hot on their trails as their laughs echo and fade out. Harley huffs in amusement, slipping out his phone.
“I gotta get this on camera,” is all he says before he too goes running out the door, holding his phone aloft.
Peter shakes his head, clearly amused with this family’s antics as he hears the faint cries of Aster no doubt dodging magic projectiles from Stephen. He’s not worried, Peter knows that Mr. Dr. Strange would never harm one of Mr. Stark’s children, lest he face a very angry Mr. Stark. Still, it doesn’t stop Peter from rushing out the door himself, laughing under his breath as he closes the door behind him and calls out, “Hey, wait for me!”