And Then There Is You

Peter stares at himself in the bathroom mirror on the plane, groaning when his hair doesn’t flatten the way he wants it to. 

He slept on it weirdly last night and now it is sticking up in every direction except the direction he actually wants it to go. 

He lets out a frustrated groan just as there is a knock on the door so Peter opens it, looking up at Tony. “My hair is being dumb.” 

Tony laughs, ruffling it with his hand. “Stop messing around with it. It’s fine.” 

“I’ve been cursed with curly hair.” Peter groans once more, wetting his hand to try and flatten the curls out. 

“Hey. Stop.” He moves Peter’s hand away from his head to stop him from fussing around. “Your hair looks perfect. I love your curls and so will my parents. Come sit back down. We’ll be landing soon.” 

Peter follows his dad back down to the seats, plopping down in front of him and bringing his feet up onto the seat, making himself comfortable. “I just don’t want to look like a clown. The only difference is that my hair is brown. Not red.” 

Tony doesn’t know why Peter is so nervous to meet his parents. He chuckles and runs a hand through his own hair. “They will love your curly hair. Even if it is sticking up in every possible direction.” 

Peter gives Tony a dirty look, crossing his arms over his chest. Although he is meant to look intimidating, he looks adorable. “Dad.” Peter whines. 

“Peter.” 

Peter sighs, sinking down into the seat. 

“Why are you so afraid to meet my parents? They’re going to love you.” Although his parents wanted Tony to get married and have children, he didn’t get married, at least not yet. But he still has a child. Even if that child isn’t biologically his. 

When he told his parents about Peter, he had to admit that he was a bit scared that they weren’t going to approve of the boy, not being Tony’s blood and all, but when he told them Peter is a boy, his father was thrilled that one day Peter would be the heir to his company. 

And when Tony sent over some pictures of Peter, his mother fell in love with the boy she hasn’t even met yet. 

So now, Tony isn’t afraid they won’t approve. Tony loves Peter. Peter is his son and nothing is going to change that. He looks at the boy sitting across from him, watching the way he chews on his pointer finger nail out of nerves. 

Peter looks back up at him, shrugging. “I… I never had a grandma or a grandpa before.” 

Tony smiles. He knows Peter doesn’t have a lot so Tony wants to give him the world. “Well, they’ve never had a grandchild before so I bet they’re even more nervous to meet you.” He reaches forward, squeezing Peter’s boney knee. “Just remember, don’t tell them you’re Spider-Man. I don’t need them knowing that part of our life.” 

“But they know you’re Iron Man.” 

“Yes. But I’m not thirteen years old and swinging around Queens in my underoos.” 

Peter’s face turns red and he looks away. He remembered the first time Tony called him that way before they became close and he looked it up when he got home, embarrassed at seeing that it was a name for children’s underwear. He never got over that. 

“Fine. I won’t tell them.” He hugs his knees to his chest, grinning. “If you don’t call me underoos in front of them.” 

“Oooh. Hard deal. But alright.” 

.

.

.

Of course Tony is excited to introduce his parents to his son but he is also excited to take Peter to Italy. He’s never left the country before so Tony can’t wait to see the world through his innocent eyes. 

Once the plane lands and the door opens up, Peter runs out before Tony could even grab the bags. “Wait, kid.” 

“I just want to smell the air!” Peter runs down the stairs, stopping about halfway to take a big sniff. “It smells like oranges.” 

Following right behind, Tony takes a sniff as well. “It smells the same as New York, kid.” He tells him, ruffling his hair. 

Peter shakes his head, flattening the hair Tony just messed up. Again. “No. It smells fresh. Not like… muggy.” 

“Muggy?” 

“Yeah. You know… dirty. And… steamy.” 

Tony forgot that Peter grew up in the not so good side of Queens. He fixes his shirt and continues to walk down the steps. “Right. Wait until you smell the countryside.” 

Peter hops down after his father, jumping onto the ground underneath him. “Does grandma and grandpa live in the countryside? Is it okay if I call them that? They won’t be… like mad? Right?” 

Tony knows Peter is excited and nervous to be in Italy to meet his grandparents but it is also the fact that Peter is a hyperactive child who only calmed down when he is sleeping. The lucky times he actually slept through a whole night. 

They are still working on that. 

Although Tony knows, from May before she died, that Peter never slept and always struggled with falling asleep and staying asleep. 

That, mixed with grief, separation anxiety and the nightmares Peter got way too often, Peter barely sleeps. 

He looks down at him, not being able to help himself from squeezing Peter’s chubby cheeks. He is thirteen and still has the chub on him from those baby pictures Tony’s seen of him and are now framed in their house. 

“Yes you can call them grandpa and grandma. And yes they do live in the countryside. It’s the same house I grew up in. Well, I was kind of traveling between Manhattan and Italy most of my childhood but when I was living here, it was in this house.” Tony thanks the worker for putting their suitcases into the trunk and takes the booster seat from him, walking to the backseat of the SUV and opening the back door. 

Peter appears behind him, watching him hook up the booster seat. “Do you like here better or home?” 

“Well…” Tony reaches over uncomfortably to grab the belt to hook it up to the car, getting flashbacks of how embarrassed he was when he first picked the kid up and couldn’t figure out how to put a car seat in. “New York didn’t always feel like home.” Not until you came into my life. 

Peter is always ready with another question. “So you liked it here better?” 

“For some time, I did. Yeah. Okay. Hop in and get your seatbelt on.” Tony waits until he does that and is secured properly. “Watch your fingers and toes.” 

Once Tony is sitting in the driver's seat and is in earshot again, Peter begins to ramble. “How far is the drive?” 

“About forty minutes. If we don’t stop. Do you need to pee?” He hopes not because Tony just wants to get there and finally introduce his kid to his parents. The only thing he was afraid of is his mother hogging Peter from him. 

“No. Do you?” 

Tony chuckles. “No, Pete. I’m good.” 

Tony has to keep his eyes on the road but he loves looking in the rearview mirror and seeing Peter’s excited eyes looking outside and glancing around at everything they were passing by. 

He points out every cow he sees and tries to moo back at them. And they drive past a lot of cows. 

Tony turns down the music when they arrive. The house was at the end of a long driveway, surrounded by trees older than Tony’s grandparents. The way they grew over the driveway above still feels like he is driving up to a castle, even at 43 years old. 

Tony pulls up to the gate and types in the password, watching the same old gates open up with more of a creak than last time he was there. 

Peter’s head is practically out the window on the drive up to the house, a huge smile on his face. “Is that their house?” Peter looks up in awe. The house is massive, the front has moss growing up the side of the old looking bricks and even though Peter can barely see it, he can somewhat make out just how far the house stretched back. 

“It is.” Tony parks the car out front and shuts it off, seeing his mom come rushing out first and then his father behind her, looking bored and eager at the same time. “Oh, there’s my parents.” 

Tony gets out of the car first, going to hug his mom immediately, kissing her on the cheek. It has been about two years since they’ve seen each other. Tony was too busy to fly to Italy to see them and they had no interest in flying to New York. 

“Hi mom. You look great.” 

“Oh Antonio. You got more muscle. Have you been working out?” 

Tony smiles. “Yes, mom. I still workout. I haven’t stopped.” 

Tony’s father walks over to him, pulling him in for a quick hug. He was never an affectionate man. In fact, Tony was never close with him yet almost everything he did was to make his father proud, up until recently. Now, Tony couldn’t care less if his father is proud of him or not. 

He learnt from the man though. He never wants to make Peter wonder if he is proud of him, Tony let’s him know that everyday. 

“Hi dad. It’s nice to see you.” 

“Nice to see you too, Tony. Where’s the boy?” 

Tony knows Peter is too shy to come out so he walks over to the back door and opens up. “Hey.” 

“Hi.” 

“Come out and meet them.” Tony reaches over to unbuckle him from his seatbelt, holding a hand out for him to encourage him to jump out. “I promise they don’t bite.” 

Smiling a bit, Peter jumps out and Tony shuts the door before he could jump back in and hide away. Tony pulls him over, placing his hands on Peter’s shoulders. “Mom, dad, this is Peter. Peter, they’re your grandparents.” 

Peter isn’t good at meeting new faces. 

He looks down at his feet, offering a tiny smile and wave at them, then briefly peeks through his eyelashes to look up at them but then gets too shy and looks away. 

“Hello, Peter. È un piacere conoscerti.” Tony’s mother says, looking down at the boy. 

Peter turns around to hide his face in his father’s stomach, wanting to hide. He knows his dads parents meant no harm. But he feels vulnerable and uncomfortable and he hates feeling that way. So he wants to hide. 

“He doesn’t speak Italian, mom.” Tony rubs Peter’s back, knowing he is going to be too shy to leave his side so he lifts him up, placing his hand under his bottom to support him. 

“Does he understand any of it?” His father asks, in that disapproving tone of voice that Tony knows all too well. 

“Besides for ragazzino. No.” He kisses the side of Peter’s head, not even able to see any skin since Peter is buried so close to him. 

His mother rubs Peter’s back then pats her son on the cheek. “Let’s go inside and catch up. Besides for getting a new living room set, we haven’t changed anything since you’ve been here last. Even your room is still the same, il tesoro.” 

Tony walks in, looking around. Everything still is the same. He didn’t expect it to change. Looks wise, it is the same. But it feels so different from the last time he’s been here. Maybe it is because he is a father now. Tony smiles, bouncing Peter a bit to lift his head up to look around. 

He feels Peter shift his head but is probably looking behind them where no one is standing to look at him. 

“It still looks beautiful, mom. I see that you still have your cactus.” Tony sets Peter on his feet, squatting down to be at his height. He doesn’t want him hiding or feeling shy. “You see this cactus?” He asks Peter who is looking at Tony’s mother standing behind Tony. “It’s older than I am. Your grandmother has been keeping it alive since before I was born. Now look how big it is.” 

Peter briefly looks at the cactus then feels something rub up against his leg and he yelps, moving to his dad’s side again. 

“Mom, you got a cat?” Tony asks, standing up but not picking Peter up again even though Peter lifts his arms up, Tony just puts them down, not mentioning it then Peter lowers his arms, looking around with wide, curious eyes. 

“Oh, I got eleven walking around. I rescued them from that animal shelter that was going to put them down. You know, the one I told you about last year.” 

“No, mom. You didn’t tell me you adopted eleven cats.” 

“Sure I did. I sent you that article.” 

Tony brushes the curls out of Peter’s eyes. “You didn’t, mom.” 

His mother gently slaps Tony on the arm. “I did. I know I did. You’re just too busy to respond to me. Being Iron Man and all. I won’t have any Avengers talk in this house. They’ve done enough.” 

Tony sighs. He knows his mother doesn’t approve of him being Iron Man. Especially with Obadiah being the one who tried to kill him over it. 

“Maria, don’t bring it up if you don’t want to talk about it.” Howard pats his son on the back and walks down the hallway, heading towards the kitchen so Tony follows, taking Peter’s hand and pulling him along. “Since you don’t drink, what’ll it be, Tony. Coke? Pepsi?” 

“I’ll just have a water.” He sits down on the stool, pulling the other one out for Peter to sit on. 

“Peter, what do you want? Coke? Pepsi?” 

“He doesn’t drink pop, dad.” Tony knows his father isn’t going to approve of a lot of things when it comes to how he raises his son but he is going to learn not to care. 

Howard rolls his eyes, pouring a coke for himself and taking out another glass. “What do you drink, Peter?” 

Maria sits down next to Peter, turning his chair to face her and away from Tony. “So, Peter, I can’t wait to hear all about you. We’re going to have so much fun. The weather is beautiful out, I bought you a swimsuit, just in case your father didn’t pack one but I’m afraid it might be too big.” 

Peter sits up on his knees to turn back and face his father. 

“He’ll just have grape juice, dad. Thanks.” Tony says to his father, half listening to what his mom is telling Peter. 

“I can’t swim.” Peter says, ever so quietly. 

“Oh. That’s okay. Your grandfather can teach you how to swim. You know, he taught your father.” 

“No, mamma. He used to throw me into the pool.” He chuckles only because it’s funny now but it wasn’t funny when he was a terrified five year old. 

Howard laughs with him, sliding the glasses over but Peter doesn’t reach for it and just clings onto Tony, too afraid to let go. He hates being shy but his dad makes him feel safe so he is going to stay with the comfort. 

“Antonio, help your father bring lunch outside while I take my new grand baby and find a seat next to him.” Maria gets off the chair and holds a hand out for Peter. It’s obvious he doesn’t want to go but she still tries anyway. 

Tony stands up too, holding Peter’s hand. “I’ll be out there soon. You go.” 

“Dad.” Peter whines, not letting go of his shirt so Tony pulls his hand off him, kissing his head. 

“I promise I’ll be outside in a few minutes. Go with your grandma.” He grabs Peter’s hand to put it in his mothers hand. “How about you tell her about what we saw on our drive up here. Go on.” 

He watches Peter go and turns back to his father. “Just say it, dad. We’ve been here for ten minutes and you already have a problem with me.” 

Howard shrugs. 

“Dad. Look, Peter is my son. My son. Mine. So if you’re going to have a problem with the way I’m raising him, then I’m going to tell you right now to shut up and keep it to yourself. Because I don’t want to hear it.” 

“Do you think that’s any way to speak to your father, Antonio.” 

Tony doesn’t care. “I do. You get the respect from me you deserve. Look, treat me however you want. I’m used to it. But don’t take that out on my son.” 

“He hasn’t even said one word to me yet, Tony. I’m not treating him wrong in any way.” 

“I can already see the way you look at him because he doesn’t speak Italian.” 

“He’s a child. Children don’t pick up on that stuff, Tony. Now grab the plates and stop being ridiculous.” 

“Dad. You’re an idiota. He’s thirteen. He’s not dumb. He’ll pick up on it.” Tony picks up the plates. “All I ask is that you don’t hurt him.” 

“Hurt him? How could you ever think I’d lay my hands on a child.” Howard asks offendedly. He never hit Tony when he was a child, sure his mom smacked him on the butt a few times or pinched his cheeks but he was never hit. That’s not the hurt Tony means. 

He pauses to look at his father. “I mean with your words and judgmental stares. Don’t do it.” With that, he carries the lunch plates outside, seeing Peter already warming up to his grandmother. That brings a smile to Tony’s face. “Hi guys.” 

His mother grabs Peter’s cheeks, squeezing them and kissing him on the face. “This one has come out of his shell and I already can’t get enough of him. I think you’ll need to extend your two week stay already, Antonio.” 

Peter giggles, leaning into the attention. 

“Trust me, he’s crazy. He’s just cracked his shell.” That is an understatement. Peter literally turns his hair curly. He sits down next to Peter, leaving the head of the table for his father. “Actually, can you go pee before we eat. You haven’t gone since the plane.” 

Peter hesitates. “I don’t know where it is.” 

Right. “Come on. I’ll show you.” Tony stands up, lifting him over the chairs so he doesn't have to pull it out again. 

The two of them walk into the house and now that Peter is more comfortable, he looks around with wide eyes. The ceilings are huge and there are designs on the top of them. “I want to climb up there. Look how high they are!” 

“Uh Uh. I don’t think so. You stay on the ground.” Tony opens up the bathroom door, walking inside and pulling Peter in. “You go. And lift the toilet lid.” 

While Tony waits outside, he listens to Peter talk to him through the half open door. “Can we still go swimming later? I saw the pool. It even has a waterfall and a bridge.” 

The toilet flushes so Tony walks in, cringing at the pee all over the toilet and a bit on the floor again so he grabs toilet paper to clean it up. “Pete, shake it off or use a tissue to wipe.” He’s told him so many times before.  

“I just missed.” He shrugs, washing his hands. “So?” 

“So what?” 

“Can we go swimming?” 

Tony washes his hands next, drying them off quickly. “If you want to. But how about we eat some lunch and get settled first.” 

The two join Tony’s parents back at the table outside and when Tony sees what’s for lunch, he knows it's his mothers idea and he appreciates that a lot. Having told her a list of things Peter eats because it’s much much shorter than the list of things Peter didn’t eat… being a picky eater was due to May being a single parent and working twelve hour shifts almost every day and so frozen pizzas, chicken fingers and take out were the only things Peter’s tastebuds were used to. 

“Thank you for cooking this, mom. It looks really good.” It’s grilled chicken with salad, broccoli and Mac and cheese on the side. At least Peter will eat two of those things. 

“I got started as soon as you were up in the air.” She kisses her son's cheek and pours some salad onto her plate. 

Peter waits for his dad to cut up his chicken for him and takes a small bite of the Mac and cheese, making sure there are no vegetables mixed in the sauce like his dad does when he tries to trick him. But he always tasted it. 

“Is it good, Peter?” Maria asks, smiling at the boy across from her. 

“Yeah. Thank you.” 

“Sei il benvenuto amore mio.” She smiles. 

Tony laughs at Peter’s confused face. “She said you’re welcome.” 

“Oh.” He takes a bite of the cut up chicken, watching his dad pick up the broccoli bowl. “No. I don’t want that.” 

“Just one piece.” Tony puts one on Peter’s plate but Peter pushes it off. “Peter.” 

“I don’t like broccoli.” 

“Lascerai che un ragazzino ti dica cosa fare, Antonio?” His father asks, putting down his fork and looking directly at Tony. 

Maria places a hand on her husband's arm, squeezing it. “Howard.” 

“Papà, ci stiamo lavorando.” Tony shakes his head in annoyance, feeling a tad bad for talking about Peter in front of him without Peter being able to understand. 

He cut up the broccoli, knowing Peter would have screamed or pushed the plate across the table if Tony’s parents weren’t here. That was a bonus at least. “Peter, just eat one. Then I won’t ask you to eat anymore.” 

“Ever again?” 

Both of Tony’s parents laugh but Tony ignores them, focusing on Peter. It was a little funny. “No. Not ever again. Just this meal time.” 

Little does his parents know that this is a struggle every single meal time. Besides breakfast since that was always simple. 

Peter is about to push his plate away but seems to realize where he is again and takes a small nibble but it’s all Tony is asking for. 

After refusing salad and despite enjoying his Mac and cheese with chicken, Peter, as always, only nibbled on it. He takes one last sip of his grape juice and sits up to wrap his arms around his fathers neck, leaning against him. 

“Are you full?” Tony asks, pulling him over the chair and onto his lap where Peter fits so perfectly against him. 

“Yeah. Thank you… grandma.” 

“You’re so welcome, honey. Digest your lunch then you and I will go swimming.” She says, taking another bite of her salad since no one is done besides for Peter. “You do have a bathing suit for him, don’t you, Antonio?” 

“Of course, mom. I know how to pack for a trip.” Tony doesn’t take offense to that. He shakes it off, patting Peter’s thigh through his track pants. It was comfortable to wear on the plane but not anymore. Especially with it being so hot here. 

Maybe he would go swimming too. 

“Good. Because I did buy him some clothes, you know, pyjamas, shorts, tank tops, but I’m afraid they won’t fit.” 

Tony takes another bite of his food. “It’s fine, mom. Thank you though.” He looks at his father, seeing the way he was looking at Peter sitting in his lap and he wants to throw a plate at the man’s head. “What, dad?” 

“Oh. Nothing.” 

Tony shakes his head, trying not to get upset. “What?” 

“How old is he again?” Howard asks as if what he is about to say next won’t offend anyone. 

“I don’t know, dad. How about you ask him since he’s sitting right here. Peter, tell my father how old you are.” 

Peter feels so put on the spot. He grabs his dad’s ring to play with. Also an excuse to hold his hand. “Thirteen. My-my birthday was last week.” 

“I know, honey. You’ll have to tell me all about it. Did you get our presents?” 

Peter nods, a small grin appearing on his face. They got the pictures of him jumping on it. 

“Yeah, mom. We definitely got it. A giant inflatable dinosaur. An indoor one too.” 

Maria laughs. “I knew you’d love it. I wouldn’t be surprised if your dad walked into the living room and saw you stuck to the ceiling fan.” 

Peter stops smiling. “I-I don’t climb the walls or anything.” 

Nice one, Tony thinks. “Grandma means, because you jump so high on that thing.” 

“Oh. Oh.” 

Tony looks back at his dad, raising his eyebrows at him. “Avete qualcosa da dire?” 

Howard clears his throat and gestures to Peter again. “He’s small for his age, no?” 

Tony already knows Peter is small for his age but that doesn’t exactly make it dinner conversation. Especially in front of Peter. “Yeah, but he’s healthy and that’s all that matters.” 

“Howard, how about you go get the dessert and put away these plates.” Maria suggests as Tony stands up to follow him, taking some of the plates and leaving Peter with his mother. 

Out of earshot from Peter, Tony practically slams the dishes into the sink. “You really think that was an appropriate thing to say in front of Peter? What, that he’s small for his age, really?” 

“Tony. I was just asking. He’s just a tiny boy. That’s all.” He places the plates in the sink. “Maybe if he ate a little bit more, he wouldn’t be so tiny.” 

Tony pinches the bridge of his nose, shaking his head. “Dad. He’s been through a lot in his short life. He lost his parents when he was three, his uncle when he was nine, and his Aunt three months ago. So give us a break here.” 

“Okay. Okay. I apologize for putting him on the spot. I just struggle with having things done my way. That’s all.” 

“I’m well aware of that. But he’s my son. Not yours. So don’t think you know better because you don’t. At all.” He waits for his dad to say something and when he doesn’t, he takes the brownies out of the fridge and walks over to join his mother and son back outside. 

This is either going to be the best two weeks or the worst.