A Slice Of Life, Death And Everything In-Between

Take My Food And Take My Heart

Prompt by @anon: 26, for the platonic touch pleaseee? (26. Offering their snack)

Disclaimer: I do not own Spider-Man or any related materials.

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"I-I mean, are you sure?"

Tony nearly rolls his entire eyes out of his head, pushing his half-full plate of fries closer to the boy, watching as Peter continues to stare at him.

"Yes, I'm sure, kiddo. You need food and I–" Pausing to pat at his flat stomach, the billionaire leans back more in his chair, the metal squeaking. "– certainly don't need anymore carbs."

Peter laughs a little, relaxing as he reaches over to grab a handful of fries and dumps them onto his plate, smothering them with ketchup. "You're not fat, Dad."

"Never said I was, Spider-baby. Now, though, I am questioning..."

Reaching over to lighting punch the man's arm, Peter grins when Tony pretends to tip back, looking hurt. "Shut up, that's not what I meant and you know it."

"Sure, sure, buddy. Whatever helps you sleep at night."

The boy's eyes shine as he picks up a fry. "At least I sleep, you on the other hand–"

Reaching out, Tony snatches his son's fry from his hand, pushing the greasy food into his mouth and chewing, trying not to laugh at the dumbstruck look on Peter's baby face.

"Hey!" The boy finally protests, moving the basket to his other side as to stop other fry thefts. "These are mine!"

"That was before you insulted me, Pete." Pressing a hand to his heart, Tony sighs dramatically. "I truly am hurt, and from my own flesh and blood, the betrayal."

Scowling, Peter shoves more food in his mouth, his doe eyes flickering between his smirking father and his fries. "Well, I'm not sorry. Besides, you gave them to me, so ha!"

Tony shakes his head, lifting up his milkshake and taking a sip. People move around them, walking in and out of the diner, waiters and waitresses lifting trays high over their heads and writing down orders.

Looking back at his son, the billionaire cannot keep his laugh to himself as Peter stares at his now empty plate, expression like a kicked puppy. As much as it is funny, the sight is enough to make Tony's heart ache, his parental instincts getting kicked into high gear.

Make his child happy and fed. Safe.

Reaching across the table, Tony gently pokes his kid's cheek, watching as Peter blinks, nose wrinkling before his eyes focus on his dad.

"Would you be sorry if I ordered more fires?" The superhero asks, already flagging down a waiter.

Peter doesn't hesitate. "Absolutely."