Chapter Text
“Where were you all night, Peter? I clearly told you to be home before eight. When did you come back? I called you a hundred times, and you ignored me!”
Stephen’s voice cut through the clink of breakfast plates like a sharp wind through a cracked window. His robe was askew, his hair still a little tousled from sleep, but his eyes blazed with a parental mix of worry and outrage.
“Papa, calm down,” Peter groaned, running a hand through his messy curls. “I told you. It was movie night. I fell asleep at Ned’s. I didn’t check my phone.”
Across the table, Tony winced and covered his ears with exaggerated flair. This had become a morning routine in the Stark-Strange household—Peter pushing boundaries, and Stephen pushing back with full force. Their teenage son, now fifteen and freshly dipped in all the drama adolescence could offer, was deep in the middle of his rebellious arc. Stephen, meanwhile, hadn’t quite accepted that the tiny baby he once swaddled in blue blankets was now a growing boy with secrets and a stubborn streak.
Between them sat four-year-old Morgan, daintily eating her toast with peanut butter and banana, giggling behind her tiny hand as if she were watching a Saturday cartoon.
Tony rolled his eyes at her, but couldn’t help the amused twitch at the corners of his lips.
“Now you’ve started lying too, haven’t you?” Stephen fired back, arms crossed tightly over his chest. “I called Ned. He said you left his place at six. Where did you go?”
“Can you please stop overreacting?” Peter replied, his voice climbing an octave with frustration.
“Overreacting?” Stephen repeated incredulously, arms now flying into the air. “I just want to know where you were! And if you don’t tell me, I’m not signing that parental consent form for your field trip. And neither will Tony.”
“Dad already signed it,” Peter muttered, eyes rolling hard enough to nearly fall out of his head.
Stephen looked instantly betrayed. He turned to Tony like he’d just been stabbed in the back by a butter knife.
Tony shifted his focus to the scrambled eggs on his plate.
“Well, young man,” Stephen said, his voice tight, “your daddy’s signature alone won’t be enough. Mine is required too. And I’m not signing it.”
“For God’s sake, Papa, I’m not a little kid anymore! Stop smothering me and take your mothering to Morgan instead!”
Peter stormed away from the table, his chair scraping dramatically against the floor. His breakfast sat untouched, getting cold.
Morgan paused, wide-eyed, and looked between her dads, unsure whether she should keep giggling or not.
Stephen stood frozen for a moment before turning sharply to Tony. “Did you hear what your son just said? And you’re just going to sit there and let this happen?”
Before Tony could answer, Stephen spun and marched into the kitchen, shoulders stiff and pride wounded.
Tony sighed, rubbing his temples. “Great. Another emotionally charged breakfast.”
“Morg, you’re done with breakfast, right?” he asked, switching gears. “Go get ready. Your school bus’ll be here soon.”
“Okay, Daddy!” she chirped and scampered off.
Tony pushed his chair back and followed the trail of dramatic energy into the kitchen. He found Stephen standing by the counter, slicing fruit with a little more intensity than necessary.
Without a word, Tony wrapped his arms around him from behind.
“Get off, Stark,” Stephen mumbled, but didn’t pull away.
Tony pressed a kiss to the nape of his neck. “Stephen. What’s wrong?”
Stephen twisted his head slightly, eyes damp and voice brittle. “What’s wrong? Didn’t you hear what your son just said to me?”
“Yeah. I did. And I also know he’s fifteen. He’s hormonal. He’s moody. He says things he doesn’t mean.”
“He’s still my kid, Tony,” Stephen whispered, the edge in his voice softening. “How could he talk to me like that?”
Tony gently turned him around, cupping his face. “Steph. This isn’t about you failing as a parent. This is him testing boundaries. He’s scared of growing up too—but instead of telling us that, he lashes out.”
“When have I ever said no to him?” Stephen asked helplessly. “I’m not mad that he went out. I’m mad that he lied to me.”
Tony nodded. “I know. I’ll talk to him. But refusing to sign that form won’t fix this. It'll just drive him further away.”
Stephen hesitated. “I already signed it.”
Tony let out a soft laugh. “Of course you did.”
He gave his husband a kiss on the cheek. “Let me go talk to him.”
Upstairs, Tony knocked on Peter’s door.
“Go away, Daddy. I’m not going to school if I can’t go on the field trip,” came the muffled voice.
“Okay, fine,” Tony replied. “But if you don’t open up now, you’ll lose your lab hours for a week.”
There was a loud groan, then the sound of a lock turning.
Tony stepped inside and found Peter flopped dramatically on his bed, face buried in a pillow.
“Is my Petey Pie crying?” Tony teased, poking his side.
“Dad, stop calling me that.”
Tony grinned. “What, you too grown-up now?”
“Yes.” came the muffled reply.
“Come on. Sit up. I need to talk to you.”
Peter didn’t budge.
Tony sighed and gently pulled him up. “The way you spoke to Papa was not okay.”
Peter sniffled. “What about the way he talks to me? He called me a liar, Dad.”
“Well… you kinda were lying,” Tony pointed out gently.
Peter looked down. “Yeah, okay. I lied because Papa wouldn’t have let me go.”
“Where did you actually go?” Tony asked, keeping his voice even.
“I was with Harley,” Peter admitted. “We were just… hanging out. Talking about building this tech prototype.”
Tony raised an eyebrow. “Harley? My intern from Tennessee?”
“Yes! And nothing weird, Dad. He’s just a friend.”
“Just a science-loving friend, huh?” Tony asked, suspiciously playful.
“Daaad,” Peter groaned, flopping back.
Tony chuckled. “Alright, alright. But Pete… Papa’s not mad because you went out. He’s mad because he didn’t know where you were. Because he loves you.”
Peter’s voice went small. “It doesn’t feel like it. He’s always with Morgan. I think he loves her more than me.”
Tony sat up straighter. “Hey. No. Don’t ever think that. You’re his world, Pete. He’s just… scared. Our lives? They’re not exactly safe. Papa has watched whole dimensions fall apart. You think he’s going to stay calm when his son disappears for the night?”
Peter looked up. “I’m sorry. I won’t lie again.”
“I know, kid. I know. Now go talk to him. He needs to hear it.”
Downstairs, Stephen was crouched by the door, tying Morgan’s shoelaces.
“Have a good day at school, Morg. Your bus is here,” he said, kissing her forehead.
“Pete isn’t coming?” she asked.
“Papa’s dropping him off later. You go ahead.”
“Okay! Bye-bye! Love you!” she called out as she ran.
“Love you too,” Stephen whispered.
Behind him, Peter lingered.
“Papa… can you help me with my tie?”
Stephen didn’t turn. “Why do you need my help? You’re not a little kid anymore.”
“Please, Papa,” Peter said softly.
With a quiet sigh, Stephen turned and knelt to tie the tie.
“I’m sorry,” Peter said. “I won’t talk to you like that again. And I won’t lie to you.”
Stephen looked at him for a long moment, then gently cupped his cheek.
“Peter… I know you’re growing up. But you’ll always be my boy. I’m scared when I don’t know where you are. That’s all.”
“I’ll tell you everything from now on. I promise.”
Stephen pulled him into a hug and kissed his head.
“So… can you sign the parental consent form now?” Peter asked sheepishly.
Stephen smirked. “I already did.”
“Thanks, Papa!” Peter grinned.
“Now go get your bag. You’re late. I’ll make a portal.”
Peter dashed off. “Two minutes!”
Moments later, he returned, ready. “Papa, I’m ready.”
Stephen conjured a glowing ring and opened the swirling portal.
“Pete… are you going to tell me where you really were last night?”
Peter grinned sheepishly. “Yes, Papa. When I’m back. Bye!”
“Bye,” Stephen said, watching him step through before closing the portal.
Tony, who had been leaning on the doorframe, smiled.
“Happy now?” he asked.
Stephen turned, smiling softly. “Yeah. He’s still my little boy.”
“Yes, he is,” Tony said. “Now, don’t you have to be at Kamar-Taj?”
Stephen’s eyes widened. “Right! I forgot! I need to get ready!”
Tony laughed. “I’ll be here when Morgan gets back. You go save the world.”
Stephen pecked his cheek. “Don’t let her eat all the cookies.”
“No promises.”
Stephen disappeared up the stairs, cape fluttering behind him.
Their lives were chaotic—filled with portals, tech explosions, and the occasional interdimensional threat—but this? These little moments of family, of growing pains and morning apologies, were what made it all worth it.
And they wouldn’t trade them for anything in the universe.