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Tony is glad to be home as he pulls his car up to the front of the Stark Tower. They are just getting back from some stupid, three day SHIELD meeting halfway across the world. Putting the car in park, he recognizes a blonde girl stepping out of the main doors, heading to the parking garage across the street.
“Um,” he starts, quickly slipping out of the driver’s seat. Pointing at the girl walking off, he asks, “Steve. Steve, what is that?”
“Tony,” Steve says with a sigh.
“What - what is that?” Tony snaps impatiently, whipping off his shades. The girl disappears into the looming concrete structure. “Was that What’s-Her-Face?” Tony turns to face Steve, his expression holding a classic Stark bitchface.
“Her name is Gwen, Tony. You know that - don’t be rude,” Steve says, getting out of the car and starting for the front doors. “You coming, or you just going to stand there catching flies?”
Tony squints at Steve, pouting, before following the Cap’n. “No, no! She’s not allowed over,” Tony says, pointing in the direction Gwen had gone. “Jarvis!” Tony yells at the overhead system. “Who let her in? I didn’t say that-”
“Peter, sir...” Jarvis tells him, interrupting.
“-she could - What? Peter?” He turns his gaze to Steve, “Did you say she could be here? I sure as hell didn’t.”
Steve sighs. “He’s a teen boy. Of course he’s going to have his girlfriend over. I didn’t tell him he could, but I can’t say I’m surprised.” He enters the elevator, holding the door for Tony. “I guess we should ground him?” Steve asks, shrugging uncomfortably.
“Twenty bucks says you didn’t have girls over as a ‘teen boy’,” Tony mutters, following Steve into the elevator. “I’m just saying that he didn’t tell us. You didn’t know, I didn’t know, and he’s not supposed to have her - I mean - he’s not supposed to have people over when we’re not there. Especially without permission. What if they broke something?”
“Because we both know how rowdy Gwen is,” Steve scoffs. “They probably sat around watching TV or something. Why are you so against her?” he asks. “Personally? I like her. She’s smart, witty, resourceful. I think she’s good for Peter.”
Tony scrunches his nose. “Okay, but still-” he whines. “We didn’t know. What if...” He thinks for a second, scavenging his mind for something, anything, that would justify his unfounded deprecation. Snapping, his eyes go wide, “What if there was an attack on the tower? And Loki and his evil flying monkeys came back. Then we’d be liable for her death - and I’m not paying for that.”
“You’re definitely letting your imagination run away with you this time. And stop pretending to be so callused. You’re not fooling anyone. Don’t think I don’t know why you don’t like her. It’s because you think they’re...” Steve stops to swallow thickly, “having sex. Well, I think Peter is smart enough to wait.”
Rolling his eyes, Tony mutters sarcastically, “Oh you’re so smart.” To Steve he says, “You wouldn’t know half the things going on in the kid’s dirty little head. And-” he held up a finger, “you probably wouldn’t even know what 90% of those things even meant, baby capsicle.” The elevator comes to a stop, the doors opening achingly slow. “By the way, you’re breaking the news.”
“What-?” Steve whines, his shoulders slumping. They step out of the elevator, Jarvis welcoming them home as they do. “I hate disciplining him. He does the puppy eyes like ‘what could I ever do wrong - I’m innocent’ and it looks like you and then it just hurts to punish him and-” He stops to take a deep breath in, squaring his shoulders. “Fine. But only because I know you’ll go off on him.” Toeing off his shoes by the door, he adds, “And for the record - I’m perfectly fine not knowing what vulgar things are floating around in his head, but I was a teenager once - and not so sheltered as you seem to think.”
Tony cocks an eyebrow at Steve. “Right,” he says, a hint of sarcasm in his voice.
Steve finds Peter in the living room lounging on the couch in jeans and a T-shirt, his hair mussed (as always), and a Chaucer book in his lap. The teen is too preoccupied with his book to even look up when Steve enters the room.
“Hey Pop,” is all their son says.
“Hey kid,” Tony calls, heading to the kitchen for something to drink.
“Hi Dad!” Peter calls back.
Tony can hear Steve talking to their son while he searches through the cabinets aimlessly. “Peter,” Steve starts, and Tony can tell he’s trying to sound disciplinary. “What was Gwen doing here while we were gone?”
“Steve,” Tony whispers from the archway that leads from the living room to the kitchen, a bag of peanuts in his hand. He makes an angry face, mocking the Hulk a bit while he’s at it, hinting that Steve needed to be more angry.
Steve rolls his eyes at Tony’s childish behavior. “Really?” he mouths the question at Tony, one eyebrow cocked. He shoos Tony with his hands, trying to let the other man know that he can handle it. Tony ignores him. Peter is still reading his book, and Tony wonders if he heard his father or if he’s just being a brat.
“We were hanging out,” Peter tells him nonchalantly, still not looking up.
“I thought you were aware we don’t like you inviting people over when we’re gone?” Steve asks as he sits down on the couch.
“Yeah well, it’s just Gwen.” Peter shrugs, still reading his book. “I figured you guys would be okay with it.”
“Well you thought wrong, because we’re not. And can you look at me when I talk to you?”
Peter stiffens, finally sensing the trouble he’s in. Taking a scrap of paper to mark his place, he puts the book down, sits up straight, and gives all his attention to Steve.
Tony comes back into the room with a bag of honey roasted peanuts, leaning against the back of the couch to watch the Talk ensue.
Taking a deep breath, Steve plows on. “Peter. You’re grounded.”
“What-?!” Peter bursts out, indignant.
“You can’t just have your girlfriend here a-l-o-n-e while we’re gone.”
“You cannot be serious, Pop.” Peter turns his attention to Tony. “Does the audience have anything to say about this? Dad?”
“Hm?” Tony looks up from his quickly disappearing snack. “Oh. Right. Yeah, you’re grounded,” he says, tossing a handful of peanuts into his mouth. He dumps the mostly-empty bag in Steve’s lap. Jabbing a thumb at his husband, he adds, “His idea, by the way. I’m still the cool dad, yeah?”
Steve looks down at his lap in mild annoyance. “Tony,” he says using the same stern voice he’d just used on Peter.
“Pfft, you were never the cool dad,” Peter says bitterly.
Tony’s mouth hangs open, completely taken aback by Peter’s words. Between all the fights they’ve had before, Tony can’t remember a time his son had ever been so blunt and hurtful. (That’s not true, but what Peter said hurts Tony more than he would ever admit.)
“Watch your attitude,” Steve admonishes.
Peter ignores the warning. “Why can’t I have Gwen over? You guys wouldn’t be making such a big deal if it were any of my other friends.”
“She’s not just your friend, Peter,” Steve explains, “she’s your girlfriend. It’s not appropriate.”
“Not appropriate?” Peter abruptly stands up, fists clenching at his sides. “How would you know? Not like you had a girlfriend, or boyfriend, in high school. And you,” now he turns his glare on Tony, “you had so many, who the hell knows what you think me and Gwen do when we’re together.” Before either of them could say a word, Peter turns and storms out in a flurry of raging teenage hormones to his room - slamming the door once inside.
“Don’t bother coming out of there for the next THREE WEEKS, BUCKO,” Tony screams once Peter’s gone. To Steve he says heatedly, “Was the door slamming really necessary? Kid went from zero to bitch in point-five seconds.” Tony turns and heads back into the kitchen, muttering curses to himself as he rummages through the fridge.
Following Tony into the kitchen, Steve grabs himself a glass. Without a word between them, Tony holds out the pitcher of ice tea, his head still deep in the fridge.
“He’s upset,” Steve says, taking the pitcher and filling his cup. “I’m sure you were the same moody mess when you were a kid.”
Tony just shrugs, finally pulling out of the fridge empty handed. “I guess,” he murmurs. When Steve puts his glass down after taking a sip, Tony picks it up, drinking half of it in one go. At the corner of Steve’s mouth, Tony can see a small smile. His husband opens the fridge and pulls out the ice tea again.
Leaning back on the counter, his hands bracing on the edge of the granite. “I just- he’s just a kid, Steve.”
“I know.”
“He’s almost a senior. Before we know it, he’ll be off at college and far from us.”
“Well, far from me. You could visit him easily with one of your suits.”
Tony shrugs, looking down at his feet. “That’s not the point. We’re not always going to be there to protect him and- well who knows what he gets up to with Gwen. What if they’re not being safe. Peter’s a good kid, he can’t-”
Steve puts his hands on each of Tony’s shoulders, looking him full in the face. “You’re right. Peter is a good kid. I trust him to be smart enough not to get her pregnant. And-”
“I don’t. Kids are stupid,” Tony interrupts.
“And, we can always stock his bedroom and bathroom with condoms,” Steve finishes with a grin.
Tony gets a mischievous grin on his face and finally looks up. “Wouldn’t that be embarrassing?” Steve pulls Tony in for a hug. Relaxing into the embrace, Tony rests his head on the Cap’n’s shoulder. After a minute he adds, “You know, the angry parent thing looks good on you, Cap.”
“Does it? I feel the makings of a fetish, Tony.” For an answer, Tony raises his eyebrows and gives Steve a suggestive grin.
Steve puts his hands on the other man’s hips. “Maybe I should use my authority more often,” he says, bringing their hips together. “Chin. Up,” he orders.
“Yes. Good God, yes,” Tony breaths, his eyes rolling back as Steve sucks at nips at the skin just below his jaw line.
****
“Tony gets a boner, Steve gets a boner, they fuck on the couch, and all was good and right in the world.”