One day, two kids walk in Tony's bakery.
They can't be older than nine, clothes are obviously hand-me-downs, and they're ogling the pastries like they're some kind of never seen treasure. They're siblings, Tony can tell that much. He doesn't want to be an asshole and assume they're here to do what he thinks. He's been on their end, - And it's not pretty.
He can count on one hand the number of times he walked into a store and the manager or the staff treated him like any other customer. His run-down appearance made most scrunch their noses in pity, disgust, or a blend of both. On bad days, he could feel the cold eating at his bones, the grime of alleys and subway floors clinging to his skin, the smell of unwashed skin and sweat following him everywhere.
The best way to show the displeasure of his son refusing to take over the company was to disown him, kick him out, and leave him homeless, by Howard Stark's opinion. An opinion he carried when he kicked the bucket and when they lowered him into the grave.
Tony was comforted by the warmth of Rhodey's couch and his arms when his father died. Even more comforted when he discovered his mother left him her family's bakery, as if she could foresee this all happening. Distant as she was, no mother wants her children on the street. And well, Tony had always enjoyed baking, and if it meant he'd stop leeching off his best friend, he took the first chance.
Rhodey punches him for thinking like that, and Tony loves him.
Point is, Tony understands how they feel.
He knows being followed with unkind eyes, subtly (not so) trying to make it seem like they're busy in the area he was at. But it was obvious they expected him to snatch something and dash out of the store without a second thought. Their behavior made Tony feel helpless, unwelcomed, and inferior, like someone like him had no place in a place like that.
He didn't want to act like those assholes, so he welcomed the kids with a smile, deciding to give them the benefit of the doubt.
The two snatched some pies and dashed out the door in a blink.
He chases after them of course, not with the intention of dragging them to the police or give slapping them a new one like Howard would've done. Not for something as simple as pies. But he well knows he wouldn't have taken if they stole money, either.
Tony is convinced that if his father was alive, he would've called him weak, soft, a disappointment, for just wanting to pull them aside and ask them why they did it, ask if they needed help, as Tony planned on doing. It was clear they were in a desperate situation, otherwise the thievery wouldn't have been done.
After an hour or so of chasing, where Tony had to stop two times because damn the kid with silver hair was fast, they barge into an old orphanage. It was obvious the building's seen better days, if the paint peeling off the cracked walls and broken windows covered with rotten planks was anything to go by.
He explains the incident to the woman who runs the place as he looks around, bottom of his shoes sticking to the dirty floors and the overwhelming smell of mold invaded his nostrils, making his stomach clench in disgust. The children in there look like they haven't seen a bath and warm meal in weeks, some in their lives.
It's unbearably infuriating how the staff acts like everything is normal, ignoring how the kids were obviously unhappy and in need of care, as they lead him to the room where Pietro and Wanda were.
He learned their names when they were practically spat by the director, and that they were Sokovian refugees, sent to America by parents who didn't want their children to bask in the violence and bloodshed of war. The room the twins lived was small, two bunk beds and a single closet.
The duo was on the floor, scarfing down the pie they grabbed with two other kids, younger than them, Tony noted. The twins noticed he was there, but their eyes were downcasted on the ground, refusing to look at him.
With his mind made up, Tony turns to the director, no trace of hesitation in his voice "I want to adopt them." He wants to yell when she practically hands them over like a pair of unwanted, old jeans, barely even letting the ink dry on the adoption papers.
The first two months are tough on them all. It's hard for them to accommodate to a normal home after spending so much time in a house full of neglect, hostility, and constant state of unsafety. The fact that they got three meals a day bewildered them, that Tony didn't yell, or hit them confused them, and Tony's heart broke every time.
The situation improved as time passed, with gentleness and patience, with love and acceptance of differences and difficult pasts, leaving them behind and looking forward, they build a small but united family. And unknown to them, it will extend with a new member on the night of December 24th.
It's Christmas and Pietro's was on the couch, playing video games with his head on Wanda's lap as she was reading a book, waiting for Tony to come back from work, when the doorbell rang so insistently Wanda smacked him on the back of his head, ordering him to open the door.
"Uh, " Pietro dragged the sound out, eyes glued to the crib on the doormat, where a pair of big, brown eyes stared back at him, just as puzzled as he was "Hey, Wanda?! There's a baby on our doorstep! I'm bringing him inside to adopt him so I can take his allowance!"
"That's nice, Pi," Wanda replied, absentmindedly flipping the page of her novel, "you better share it with me, shithead," but immediately her eyes winded in realization, standing up in a hurry "WHAT DID YOU SAY?!"
"I FOUND A BABY ON OUR DOORSTEP!'' Pietro yelled, emphasizing his point by literally shoving the baby in her face, who immediately began to cry at the loud noise.
"DON'T YELL AT ME! YOU MADE HIM CRY!''
"YOU YELLED AT ME FIRST! "
Right then, Tony entered the apartment holding grocery bags which he desperately fought for against Susan, the annoying neighbor from above, only to be welcomed by a shouting match. "What's all this yelling?! I can hear you guys from across the, --" he dropped the bags the minute he saw Pietro holding a baby. A human baby. A breathing, human baby.
"What's, " He started after a moment of silence, pointing at the crying babe in his son's arm "that?"
"Um, 'that' is a he, and his name is Peter! Can we keep him, dad? I want to steal his allowance and birthday presents. And stick his dirty diapers in Wanda's mouth when she's sleeping."
"Do that, and it'll be the last thing you do."
"What's it doing in my house? " Tony asked, taking the fragile baby in his arms, and the cries immediately stopped. The little hands hooked on his shirt tightly, having no intention of letting go. Heart melting, he smiled down at the baby boy, steading him in his arms "you said his name was Peter?"
"Yep! It was written on the note attached to the crib. We found him on our doorstep. We're keeping him, right?"
"Please, dad?" Wanda chimed in. "he's so cute! And I might finally have the servant Pietro was supposed to be!"
"Hey, fuck you, alright? But yeah dad, let's keep him! I always wanted a brother! Please? I said 'please', so you know how much I want this."
"Oh, kids, I don't know, " Tony whispered, eyes warm as he looked at Peter who was playing with his index finger, trying to bite into it with his squishy gums. Looking at the twins, he wasn't surprised to find a set of begging puppy eyes staring at him. There was no changing their minds.
Sighing, he smiled. "Hope you guys like smelly diapers and midnight wake up calls." Susan complained about the noise of their cheer and the thud after the kids tackled him in a hug. Tony couldn't bring himself to give a fuck, though.
-
Two years later, standing in his bakery, laughing with Pietro and Wanda while they told him about their day at school, between bickering with each other, of course, preparing cakes with a happy two year old Peter in his arms, Tony couldn't be happier with his decision.
He had a family. A happy family, nonetheless. After so many years, Tony can say he's nothing like Howard, he can say his kids are content, he can say they're safe and comfortable, and happy with him. Tony made sure to give them everything Howard didn't give him. It couldn't get any better than that.
"Dad, don't look now, but that blonde over there has been checking you out for the past hour or so, " Wanda whispered to him with a smile on her face, gesturing to a blonde man drawing in a corner. Their eyes met for a brief second before he moved his eyes away in a flash, red dusting his cheeks and neck.
The baker snorted, passing Peter to a glaring Pietro, who pinned the man down with a stony gaze before 'hmph' ing. Tony raised an eyebrow, but didn't question him, instead hurrying to serve the apple pie and hot chocolate to the artist (?). Giving the other man a friendly smile, he set the order on the table.
"Apple pie and hot chocolate, right? Interesting combo, If I do say so myself, " Tony commented with a small chuckle. The blue-eyed man finally looked up. Tony could get lost in the sea of his eyes, as cliche as that sounds.
The blonde man chuckled, thought it was a tad nervous, and played with the circles that held his sketchbook together, blush still flaming on his porcelain fair skin. "You've never prepared weird orders before?"
"Weird isn't the word I'd use, but I had. One time, a guy told me to shred some cheddar cheese on his chocolate muffin. I still want to puke everything I think about it." Tony laughed at the memory, Pepper's deranged face appearing in his mind.
The other man laughed "Oh, that's not good, " he extended his hand, giving Tony a smile that made him weak in the knees "I'm Steve. Wanna sit down and tell me horror stories about disgusting food orders?"
Turning to his kids to see what they thought about it, he got a thumbs up from Wanda and some clapping from Peter. In the meantime, Pietro shrugged, not taking his piercing eyes off Steve, but he softened, shrugging his shoulders.
His eyes fell back on his Steve, the corners of his mouth lifting as he sat down "I'd love to!"
--
"Every time you flap your lips another one of my brain cells dies and I crave for death, you absolute disaster."
Pietro rolled his eyes, laying out a piece of paper on the table. The blank page was filled with scribbled drabbles of Steve in dangerous or life-threatening situations, grace to Peter's artistic skills. Pietro had to bribe him with candy in exchange for the art, but the teen needed to feel like at least ONE sibling was on his side.
"Then perish, " the boy scoffed, taking a seat next to her, stealing away the brownie as he took Peter into his arms, settling his baby brother on his lap, ignoring the drool spilling on his arm. "Come on sis, contribute! Come up with ideas! Help me! Do something! You're the brain of this operation!"
"No! Steve is just a sweet guy who likes our dad, that's it. Just leave it alone!"
Pietro smaked his lips, continuing his aggressive scribbling "I changed my mind, you're the ass of this operation."
"There is no operation. There's just you fearing dad will finally have someone again and you want to ruin it because you're paranoid and scared of change. Steve's here to stay, so I suggest you get used to it."
"Never gonna happen. Ever." Confidently said Pietro, arms crossed over his chest. He's pretty sure Steve won't stick around anyway once he gets bored, or fed up when he realizes Tony won't pick him over them, which will inevitably happen. He's seen this before and already knows the ending.
Only if he knew how bad he was going to eat his words.
Hand landing harshly on Steve's shoulder, Pietro's smile was forced and painful on his face as he turned to his science teacher whom he HAD to piss off that day with one of his usual acting up sessions, as he liked to call every time Pietro pulled his daily shenanigans.
"Mr. Stone, this is my father, Steve," Pietro pushed every word out with difficulty through his gritted teeth, forcing himself not to sneer every letter. Steve's knowing face didn't help the situation by any means, only increased Pietro's desire to wipe that infuriating smug smirk off his face. With his fists, preferably.
He called Steve and asked for his help after Stone caught him having a fight with Thomspon in the cafeteria. After a scolding that bored the teen out of his mind, Stone ordered him to call his parents, which made Pietro pause slightly.
If he called Tony, he'll get grounded for sure. After countless times his adoptive father had to leave his workplace because of Pietro's mischievousness, Tony firmly warned him that if he received one more call from the school, Pietro will be stuck at home babysitting Peter and do chores for a whole month.
He couldn't afford being grounded as he was invited to Harry Osborn's party which everyone will attend and he knew for a fact not a single person will shrug off his absence. If he missed this event, Pietro was going to be the main gossip material for who knows how long. Normally, he wouldn't mind a bit of attention here and there, but Pietro just knew he was going to be more annoyed by their whispers as time went by, and he didn't want to deal with it.
So he swallowed his pride and requested Steve's help, who much to his dismay, agreed to play along if Pietro'd put a good word for him to Tony. Grumbling, he accepted the offer and now here he was, in Stone's classroom, pretending to be the son of the one person he hated most.
In his luck, Stone was new to the school, replacing the former science teacher who thought was a good idea to keep some girls after class for 'supplementary lessons' and forgot about the security cameras that spied every classroom, so he easily believed Pietro's lie.
He also seemed pleased by Steve's perfectly tailored suit. Pietro had no doubt the outfit costed more than his entire tuition. "It's good to know at least one of you has decent taste in clothing, " Stone gestured to one of the chairs. "Please, take a seat, Mr. Maximoff. There is a lot we must discuss your son and his atrocious behavior."
"Don't mind if I do, sir," Steve smiled, sitting on a chair while Pietro remained on his feet, hands in the pockets of his hoodie as he waited for the whole charade to be over. "I know my son can be quite the rascal sometimes, but he means no harm, I assure you. What did he do this time?"
"I regret to say that your son has quite the record, Mr. Maximoff, " with a disapproving shake of head, Stone glared in his direction and Pietro had to hold himself back from rolling his eyes so hard they'd pop out of his head.
"Verbal altercations with the school's faculty, various acts of obnoxious farces that disturb classes, and worst of all, he engages in physical fights with other students like some sort of savage! This behavior is unacceptable and must be corrected immediately."
Fists clenched, Pietro sat in silence, knowing he won't help his situation if he'd open his mouth. Stone wasn't exactly the type to listen to the other side of the story that differs to his. To his surprised, Steve barely seemed impressed, eyebrow raised as the teacher listed off the transgressions.
Calmly, he asked: "Why did they fight?"
Taken back by the question, Stone blinked in confusion, as did Pietro. "Um, well--"
"Because there has to be a reason," Steve interrupted Stone with an unshakable firmity. "Pietro wouldn't start an argument just because. He knows he'd disappoint To--Me, if he did, " not giving the teacher a chance to reply, Steve turned his attention to Pietro and asked: "tell me what happened. The whole thing."
"Mr. Maxmimoff, I don't think--, "
"Stone, I'm speaking to my son. Don't interrupt me again." Steve's glare was enough to make Stone snap his mouth shut, not daring to mutter another thing. "Also if I may, using the term 'savage' to describe another student is incredibly disrespectful, not to mention inappropriate, and I'll make sure Ms. Hill will hear about it."
He couldn't lie, watching Steve rip Stone a new one was entertaining and he didn't want to stop it by any means. Holding back a smile, Pietro began to explain the whole incident. And even now he wants to kick Flash's ass for what he said about his father.
Steve looked like he had the same idea. Turning to Stone, his tone left no room for question.
"And I assume you already knew all of this before you brought my son here and called me. I am sure you were a rational person and heard him out instead of ignoring what he had to say thinking that you know better."
"I, well, he didn't say--"
" I also assume you will call Eugene's father and let him know about what happened. Needless to say his son will get punished just like Pietro, yes? It wouldn't be fair to just punish one student when both of them were involved, would it?"
"Mr. Maximoff, I'm afraid that it'd taint Flash's record if we involve him in this incident and Mr. Thompson wouldn't be pleased with that--, "
Stone's sentence was interrupted by the snort coming from Steve, but judging by the way his jaw tightened Steven was everything but amused. "And we wouldn't want our main sponsor to stop throwing money to us because we hold his spoiled asshole of a son responsible for once, right?
Why does it matter if we're being unfair to the other kids? If we're not treating them equally like we do more 'important' students? I mean, it's not like they can actually DO something or speak up since we will side with money anyway, isn't it?"
"Steve, that is NOT appropriate and I find your tone very aggressive!" Stone huffed indignantly, eyeing Steve as though he was a maniac. Rolling his eyes, Steve stood up, placing a hand on Pietro's shoulder, leading him out of the classroom.
"You ain't seen aggressive yet. And trust me when I say you don't want to," spoke lowly Steve, fixating Stone with a stare so cold and dark it made the teacher take a step and cause Pietro to stop in his tracks. He never heard that tone from him before. "And it's Mr. Maximoff to you."
Once they stepped outside the school, Pietro didn't peep at all, which worried Steve a great deal but didn't press onto the issue. They took a cab filled with awkward silence to the apartment building Pietro and his family lived in. Steve had to admit, the neighborhood wasn't the best. He'll have to talk with Tony about it sometime.
The cab stopped, making Steve finally break the ice "So, uh," he shrugged helplessly, as he gestured to the building. "This is us, I guess. Pleasure masking business with you, kid."
After a pregnant pause, Steve found himself surprised when Pietro asked him if he wanted to have dinner with them. There was no mockery or cutting hostility in his tone like there usually was. Steve would lie if he'd say the invitation didn't caught him by surprise, even made him worry further a bit, but nevertheless, he said:
"I am 100℅ sure you're gonna poison me," he said drily, finally making Pietro snort. ", but I'll take the risk. Lead the way, kiddo."
"Hope you like Cyanide in your lasagna." Pietro joked, jogging to his apartment.
Running after him with a laugh, Steve replied with " As long as you're eating it with me we won't have a problem!"
"Fuck you, Rogers."
"Right back at you, P."