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On Christmas morning, Peter storms down the stairs in a flurry, anxious to wake up Tony and start the day. His pajamas were covered in tiny Avengers as he sprinted to his adoptive-father’s room to shake him awake. To his surprise and disappointment, Tony was already awake in the living room. Peter paused at the sight of the massive tree adorning the Stark Tower’s living room, and his eyes brightened at the haphazardly thrown on decorations.
“Mr. Stark-“
“What did I tell you about calling me that? Especially on today of all days? I even bought you a Christmas tree-“
"Dad,” Peter correctly quickly, stumbling over his words. He continued to eye the tree with wonder. How did he even get it in the room?
“The decorations aren’t much,” Tony said, standing. Peter could see the anxiety rolling off his shoulders in waves, as if Peter was about to start criticizing the way the ornaments only clung to one half of the tree and didn’t reach much higher than a foot over Tony’s head. The lights were strewn on as if Tony were too lazy (or just unable to – maybe he was rushing) to wrap them all the way around the tree, so they fell in a maze-like manner across a six-foot height and downwards, to the wrinkled tree skirt. The tag was hastily stuffed under the red-trimmed skirt.
“I love it.” Tony’s face immediately washed away the anxiety prying away at it, making his face look several years younger. “I honestly do, Mr. St- I mean, Dad.”
Peter stepped forward to brush his fingers against the tree’s lower-hanging branches. It looked to be at least ten feet tall, if not more. He spied a discarded cardboard box of ornament packaging stuffed under the tree. Peter wondered if Tony did the decorations right as Peter woke up.
“I’ve never had a big tree like this,” he explained, watching Tony’s brow crinkle. He never blamed Aunt May and Uncle Ben for their lack of funds. Never. Christmas was still Christmas without a tree, of course, as long as the people you loved were around. He never minded before.
“Neither have I, kid.” Peter glanced back at Tony, the sides of his mouth pulled slightly down into a frown. He knew about Tony’s father and the classic “Stark men are made of iron” slogan, but he could never guess how far the roots went down. “I bought it for you – for us.” Tony waved his hand jerkily at the decorations and smiled sheepishly.
“I- Thank you.” Peter rushed forward, grinning, and wrapped his arms around Tony in a quick manner. He knew Tony wouldn’t appreciate a long, endearing hug (without damaging his Stark pride), so he frequently caught him off guard with his rare embraces. He felt a light touch of a hand on his back, as if in ‘thank you.’ Peter pulled away and spun quickly to face the tree again. “It’s wonderful.”
“I’ve also got you a gift, although it’s not much. I’ll spoil you again later,” Tony said, coughing. He handed Peter a watch. “It has the Spider-Suit built inside,” he explained, tapping the watch lightly as Peter twisted it this way and that. “If you ever need it, it’s there. I don’t expect you to be out there today though.” Peter cringed at the lecture he could feel brewing, so he hurriedly moved to grab his gift for Tony. Tony glanced down at surprise as Peter pressed the glass object into his hands.
“It’s an Iron Man figure. I made it in class. Glassblowing.” He awkwardly glanced up at Tony and was met with a wide grin.
“Thanks, kid.”
“Merry Christmas, Mr. Stark.” Tony shot him a warning look, so Peter scrambled to fix his slip-up. “Dad. Merry Christmas, Dad.”
“Merry Christmas, kid.” They both turned slowly the sound of a tree falling over and ornaments breaking.