They'll Be Scary Ghost Stories (And Tales Of The Glories)

Of Christmases Long, Long Ago

A/N: Hi y'all, I know it's been a little while since I've written Irondad (*cough* a few months *cough*) but I'm still here, I promise! 😅

This is a Christmas/New Years Eve/Day fic for the amazing and wonderful @irondad_is_real_I_promise on Instagram! I hope you enjoy this Axel and thank you so much for being my friend and for the incredible art you make! You're seriously one of my favorite people and I love you hon! Happy Holidays!! 💖🥰

I hope everyone else has an amazing New Years too and thank you so much for your support and love! 💚❤️💚❤️

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Christmas is a weird time of year for Peter.

The first holiday season after his Uncle Ben died was the hardest. Filled with an edge of sadness that the spiderling tried his hardest to shake away, Peter spent his break drinking practically his entire weight in hot cocoa and cookies, staring at the tiny sparkling tree nestled in the corner of his and May's too-empty apartment until his head began to ache. Nothing seemed to help, however, and the boy was left laying awake during the midnight hours, watching through his frosted window as a dust of snow started, the white flakes fading to black as sleep finally overcame him.

He felt like Scooge almost, stuck in an endless loop of longing for the ghosts of Christmas past while being stuck in the present, the uncertain future looming far, far ahead.

Peter cried himself to sleep that holiday break more times than he'd like to admit.

This year, at least, it's a little different.

"Do you want any more of Pepper's special sugar cookies, bubba?" Tony's voice startles Peter slightly from where the boy's nestled on the couch, reaching up to rub at his eyes before responding.

"No thanks, I'm good." A yawn cuts through the 15-year-old's words, so large that his jaw aches slightly. "Do we, uh, do we have any more chocolate chip ones, though?"

Rubbing at his now watery eyes, Peter watches as Tony scoots around the sofa, his own plate of cookies held in one hand, Peter's hot chocolate mug in his other.

"Tired already, bug?" Settling both the plate and cup on the coffee table, Tony carefully reaches out, scooting Peter's legs off the cushion before sitting down, drawing the boy against his side. Brushing a stay curl from his kid's forehead, Tony continues, glancing down at Peter with dark eyes as soft as melted chocolate. "Don't tell me you're gonna fall asleep during A Christmas Story —"

Peter scoffs, leaning his cheek against the billionaire's shoulder. "It comes on so much anyways, re-run after re-run—"

"Still a classic, kid."

"You quote it so much, you can just recite the parts I miss."

Tony's laugh is warm, the kiss he presses against Peter's forehead even moreso. "We can't start it now anyways, bambino, we gotta wait for Pep and Morgan. You can nap if you want, they just left the cabin so we have a while."

"May's still coming over too?"

Tony nods. "Later though, her shift doesn't end until 8pm. That's what she said, right?"

"Yeah, think so."

Reaching up, Peter wraps his arms around Tony's torso, nuzzling his cheek against the soft fabric of his father-figure's Rudolf themed night-shirt. Carefully, the older superhero reaches down, helping to get Peter situated in his usual spot underneath Tony's chin and Peter sniffles, eyes fluttering shut.

"Take a rest, buddy." Tony whispers, brushing at Peter's soft curls with his fingers. "I gotcha, I gotcha."

Peter tries to respond, he really, truly does, but he's asleep before the words can even leave his throat, escaping as a soft puff between his teeth and he's slumping fully against Tony, lulled by the gentle rocking and sound of his dad's heartbeat in his ears.