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It was Friday night, and Peter and Tony were on the couch watching a movie. Peter was curled up in Tony’s side, his head on the man’s chest. Tony had one arm wrapped around the kid, the other in the kid’s hair. Peter was struggling to keep his eyes open, Tony trying to lull his kid to sleep with his fingers scratching his scalp lightly. Tony looked down at the boy to find him asleep. He gently picked Peter up and carried him to the boy’s room. Tony laid him down, pulled the covers up to his chin, and kissed his forehead.
“Goodnight, kiddo.”
Tony turned the light off and closed the door. He then headed down to the lab to get some work done before he went to bed.
It was 2:34 a.m. when Peter jolted awake from the thunder outside. He sat up in bed. Peter had never been a fan of thunderstorms. He had always hated them, but after his parents died in a plane crash during a storm, and ever since his senses became enhanced, it was just too loud for him.
After a flash of lightning that made him flinch, he kept his eyes closed, but a loud crash of thunder made him jump to the ceiling. Another bang made him cover his ears and pull his knees to his chest. He put his face in his knees to block out the lightning, but he couldn’t block out the input. Peter didn’t even hear when Tony came in.
“Pete, you okay, kiddo?” Tony said, looking up at him.
Peter lifted his head from his knees to look at the man. He went to answer, but got cut off by a very loud crash of thunder that made him flinch and try harder to push his hands over his ears.
“Oh, bud, come down here,” Tony said, reaching a hand up to the frightened boy.
Peter took it and gently dropped from the ceiling. Tony wrapped an arm around the kid’s shoulders and led him into the man’s own bedroom. Tony gestured for Peter to get on the bed. Peter sat on the bed and watched the man get under the covers. He lifted the covers on the other side.
“Crawl in, kid.”
Peter did, and he leaned into the man like he was earlier. Tony pulled him closer and started carding his fingers through the boy’s curls.
“Not a fan of storms, kiddo?”
Peter hid his face in the man’s chest and nodded.
“Is it your senses?”
Peter nodded.
“I’ve never liked them,” Peter said, his voice muffled by Tony’s shirt.
“Yeah, why not?”
“When my parents died in a plane crash, it was storming that night,” Peter said as he hid his face and snuggled back into Tony’s side.
Tony just squeezed him and pulled him closer. They sat in silence for a few moments before another loud crash of thunder made Peter burrow further into Tony. Tony rubbed his back in a soothing motion.
“Hey, Mr. Stark?”
“Yeah, bud?”
“Have you heard this really old song? It reminds me of being scared of thunder and lightning.”
“Oh yeah, what song is that, buddy?”
“I don’t know the name, but it goes like, thunderbolts and lightning, very, very frightening me.”
Tony stopped carding his fingers through his hair for a moment to look down at Peter.
“Kid. Bohemian Rhapsody is not old,” Tony said with mock outrage.
“It is. Kinda like you,” Peter said with a smirk.
Tony flicked his ear.
“You little shit.”
Peter giggled and squeezed Tony. Tony started to card his fingers through the kid’s hair again. The kid’s eyes closed, and he sighed contently. Tony leaned down to kiss the top of the kid’s head.
“Goodnight, bubba.”
“G’night, Dad,” Peter mumbled.