The monster in the walls

Epilogue

"Boss, Peter has just returned from patrol. He is in the penthouse living room." FRIDAY announced one night.

"Okay," Tony stood in front of the full-length mirror in his walk-in closet, "tell 'im I'll be right out. And remind him to change into his stealth suit."

"Yes, boss."

The billionaire pulled on a black long-sleeved shirt to match his black sneakers and dark jeans. "You don't gotta wait up." He smiled at his husband, who had an equally broad grin plastered on his face.

"I know, honey. You tell me this every time you two go out, and every time I-"

"Wait up anyway," Tony smirked. "We've been doin' this for months now, and you still worry." He kissed Steve passionately, only pulling apart to get air.

The blond chuckled, and Tony felt the vibration from within the man's broad chest. "Of course, I worry. You and Peter are my everything." He pressed his forehead against his husband's. "But, I know you're both competent."

"Boss," the AI interrupted, her tone light and humorous, "Peter is requesting that you stop taking so long. 'As it will be daylight before we even get started'."

Both men huffed out a laugh. It felt good to be in such high spirits; the events of last August finally behind them. No one was in danger, everything was as it should be, and most importantly, their son was safe and healthy.

"Okay. We'll be back around 2:00 a.m."Tony called over his shoulder as he exited their shared bedroom. His impressive wings tucked against his back.

Steve crossed his arms, leaning up against the doorframe. He watched his husband go with a fond smile. Every Friday, Peter would return early from patrol, and the father-son duo would go out flying together. They'd often stay out until daybreak. Soaring and gliding over the city.

"Hey, dad! You ready?" Peter greeted his dad eagerly. He had exchanged his usual red and blue suit for his all-black stealth suit. It was perfect for flying at night.

The billionaire smirked playfully at the teen. "Of course, I'm ready." He took a minute and just looked at his son. Impressed by how far he'd come. After lots of food and plenty of rest, the teen had regained his strength and energy. And, not long after, his wings began to heal. Much to the teen's delight.

Peter's wings resembled Tony's in size and shape but differed slightly in color. Like Tony's, the underside of Peter's wings were iridescent black, which faded to violet at his primaries. But, unlike Tony's, the top of Peter's wings were a dark grey near his shoulders, fading to a steel blue in the middle then back to violet at the tips.

"Dad?" Peter gave the man a quizzical look from his spot beside the open window, curtesy of FRIDAY. "You comin'?"

"Yeah, bud." He walked up beside the other hero, his baby boy, and ruffled his hair. "Let's go flying."

The two jumped out of the ninety-three story building with a shared smile, spread their wings, and took off into the sky.