A Slice Of Life, Death And Everything In-Between

Personal Parade Problems (And Simple Solutions)

Prompt by @baloobird: Fluffy thought: whenever Tony and kid Peter are out somewhere where Peter can't see, like at a concert or parade, Tony picks him up and sits him on his shoulders. Peter loves to ruffle his dad's hair, just like how his dad always ruffles his curls 🥰

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"Dad, I can't see."

Peter's voice rises above the screams of the other small kids around them and Tony looks down immediately, smiling at the pout that is currently pushing his child's bottom lip out.

"There isn't really much to see, buddy." Tony laughs, reaching down to tug his son further against his side. "They haven't even gotten out the bigger floats yet."

Peter shrugs, turning his face away as his cheeks go red. "Still, I wanna see."

Rolling his eyes, the genius shifts to the side a bit so he doesn't crush a little kid as they push around his legs. Peter, his brows drawing together is confusion, grabs onto his father's sleeve as they move through the crowd near Cinderella's Castle. Tony reaches down and grips Peter's hand, pulling his 8-year-old as close as possible as they finally make it to the thinner part of Main Street.

The thinner part, which is unfortunately, still full of people a mile deep.

Sighing in defeat, Tony carefully leads his still pouting son back to their original spot, ignoring the huff of annoyance from a woman in front of them.

"I'm sorry, bambino." Tony says, running one hand through Peter's fluffy curls. "Everywhere is packed and unless we want to be bombarded by paparazzi, I can't risk getting the Suit out..."

Leaning more fully against his father's legs, the boy nods, smiling up at Tony. "It's okay, Daddy. I can still see people's feet!"

Feeling his heart stutter in his chest at the innocent optimism in his child's voice, Tony swallows and suddenly has an idea.

Reaching down and ignoring Peter's small, questioning squeak, the billionaire gently lifts his squirming kid up into the air. Twisting his head to avoid Peter's kicking feet, Tony gently sets his son on his shoulders.

Looking up at Peter's wide doe eyes, Tony grins up at the boy, gripping his little legs tighter as he shifts.

"Can you see now, Petey-Pie?" Tony asks, squeezing his son's legs and sending him into a fit of giggles.

"Y-Y-Yes! Dad, stop t-that tickles!" The 8-year-old squeals out as soon as he catches his breath, wrapping his small hands around his father's head.

Tony, after gently brushing his son's sticky fingers away from his eyes and nose, presses a series of butterfly kisses against the small knuckles. Peter, kicking his red and blue sneakers, lets out an excited yell as music suddenly begins to play and characters fill the street.

And if Peter enjoys the parade and has the time of his little life, then the bruises and the stiff neck Tony has tomorrow with be one hundred percent worth it.