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Pancakes

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Tony wakes up in a rush, with a feeling like there is something off. He looks around the bedroom, but doesn't notice anything strange. He slides out of his bed, noticing once again the empty void left by Pepper, who is currently in DC for a business trip. With any luck, the bruising would be gone before she got back. He made a mental note to add further shock absorbers to his face mask. The Hulk and Thor are hardly the only ones out there who can pack a powerful punch.

His nerves are still tingling, like something was off, but the alarms aren't going full blast, so it couldn't be an attack. He stumbles into the kitchen looking for, at the very least, a strong cup of coffee; maybe some pain killers. He stops in his tracks when he sees Peter standing in front of the counter top, flour everywhere. And when Tony says everywhere, he means everywhere.

Especially the ceiling.

He rubs his face. "Pete, you do realize it is 6am on a Sunday morning? I barely got to bed three hours ago and–I distinctly recall telling you to get some sleep last night, which you clearly ignored."

Peter starts, a bowl of some kind of batter slipping from his hand, careening to the floor. But he manages to catch before it hits the ground with his lightning reflexes. "Oh hey, Mr. Stark–"

"I told you to call me Tony."

"I know...Tony sir," Peter murmurs to his feet.

Tony opens his mouth to correct him further, but decides it's not worth the effort until he gets his a decent cup of coffee in him. Instead, he asks, "What are you doing here, Pete?"

Peter picked hopelessly at a bit of flour on the counter. "Oh, I was just wanting to make breakfast for you–"

"Thanks for letting me crash, Tony–" Warmachine mutters groggily, stopping to take in the scene before him. He looks at Peter and then to Tony, jaw slack.

"A-and the other Avengers, too," Peter stammers with an awkward hand gesture that includes Rhodey.

Rhodey looks at the mess and shakes his head. "Nah, I'm not really hungry. But I'd kill for some coffee."

Just then the coffee pot dings and Rhodey smiles. He gets two cups down, makes Tony's just the way he likes it, and brings it to him.

"Happy Father's Day, old man," Rhodey says, handing Tony the cup.

"I'm not anyone's da–" Tony starts, but stops when he sees Peter looks crestfallen. He turns to the kid and raises a curious eyebrow, cottoning on to what Rhodey was insinuating.

"N-no, wait!" Peter says, waving his hands. "I-I don't want you to get the wrong idea!"

Rhodey just chuckles and shakes his head. "Admit it, Petey. You're a terrible liar. You came to the compound to make a Father's Day breakfast for Tony."

"Maybe," Peter mutters, looking down at his shoes again.

Tony's eyebrows shoot up and a small smile slips out before he could hide it. "Huh," he murmurs. "Well, how about that."

Rhodey chuckles and takes his coffee to the only clean surface in the kitchen, the small outcropping for the microwave. He leans up against it and takes a sip, enjoying the show.

Peter looks miserable. "It's just that my own dad's gone. B-but at least I had Uncle Ben! Only he's gone, too. A-and you've just done so much for me…"

Tony's smile turns sad. "All right, come on. Let's see these promised pancakes, then."

Peter lights up. "Yeah?"

"Hurry up!" Tony says, making a shooing motion.

Peter rushes to finish making them, all the time babbling on where he got the recipe.

As he makes the pancakes, Tony works on cleaning up some of the mess to have a place to sit. Peter apologizes sheepishly, but Tony waves him off. He gets down a plate and pulls out a fork, then sits down at the counter.

Rhodey smirks into his coffee as Tony nearly chokes on the first bite. Tony takes a long draft of his coffee and turns to Peter. "I'm running on three hours of sleep. So if you want me to keep eating these pancakes, keep the coffee coming."

Rhodey has to turn away to keep Peter from noticing his amused expression as his friend downs almost as many cups of coffee as he does pancakes. Those things must be horrible.

Peter continues to babble happily about school, his friends, being the Friendly Neighborhood Spider-Man, oblivious to the looks the older superheroes give each other.

I am so never letting you live this down, Rhodey's look says.

I'm repainting your suit to the Iron Patriot colors again if you ever bring this up, is Tony's answering glare.

But Tony's attention never waivers from the kid and makes sure to eat every last bite. As he downs the last of his coffee he makes sure to add one more mental note: make sure Clint teaches Peter how to make pancakes.