Spider-Son & Iron Dad one shots

Dirt Cookies

"Uh..."

The small neon green clock on the oven says that it's three in the morning. Tony, who was formerly asleep, was woken up by the small clanging of pots and pans. He slipped quietly out of Pepper's arms, up in a heartbeat of course, holding his gauntlet in front of him as he now snuck down the hall.

He's greeted in the Avengers' Compound kitchen by Peter Parker, dressed in fuzzy plaid-patterned pants and one of Tony's old college shirts. The sink of the kitchen is completely empty, and to match, the dishwasher is humming quietly.

The most peculiar part about this, is that Peter is surrounded by two empty trays and bags of flour, sugar, chocolate chips, the like. He's moving his head around, murmuring under his breath and not even looking up. Upon closer inspection, Tony can see that Peter is wearing headphones, the cords tucked under his shirt.

Tony lowers his gauntlet, letting the nanotech slowly dissolve off of his arm. He chuckles quietly and steps forward.

Peter must have sensed him, because he then looks up. His eyes widen, giving the impression of a child with their hand in the cookie jar (haha, baking puns), and he takes his headphones out. "Mr. Stark!"

"Yeah, it's me." Tony sits up at the counter, looking at Peter curiously. "What are you doing up, kid?"

"Just baking," Peter shrugs. "I couldn't sleep, so... cookies. It gives me something to do, and—well, they taste good."

"Fair enough." Tony's gaze flits over the ingredients. "What kind of cookies are you making?"

"Uh—chocolate crinkle cookies. It's the kind that have sugar on it, and when you put it in the oven they crackle, sort of? Not explode-crackle, but like, expand-crackle. Y'know?"

Tony stares at him for a second, processing the rapid information being fired at him, and then nods. "Yeah. You need help?"

When he asks Peter this, he really doesn't mean that at all. He really means, "May I help?" This isn't as easy to realize for people first getting to know Tony. Many are offended by the implication that they need help from the billionaire-genius.

Peter, however, knows Tony. So instead he looks around for something that Tony could help with.

"Well, I already made the dough, but it needs to be rolled in a bowl of confectionary sugar before it goes in the oven. Do you wanna do that?" Peter holds up the bowl of chocolate cookie dough.

Tony slips off his seat at the counter and walks around to the kitchen, quickly washing his hands. "Sure. Are we making big cookies or small ones?"

"Whatever," Peter shrugs. "You can pick."

Tony nods and grabs a spoon. Peter hands him a smaller bowl, full of white confectionary sugar. He scoops a spoonful of the cookie dough, rolls it into a ball, and then gently moves it around in the bowl.

"So," Tony begins. "You do this often?"

"Not really," Peter laughs. He begins cleaning up spilt flour on the countertops. "I'm not exactly the best baker, I just find it fun. Plus, it makes a giant mess. At least when I do it. That's why May won't let me bake very often unless I clean everything up."

"Is that why the dishes are miraculously done?" Tony asks, sporting a fond smirk.

Peter laughs some more. "I guess so."

Tony moves the cookie dough ball, now covered in sugar, onto the tray. He then grabs another spoonful. "You said you're not a good baker, right?"

"Yeah, I'm not the best—"

"Should I prepare to give these cookies to Steve later then? Because I would love to see the look on his face as he takes a bite and pretends that it tastes good. He wouldn't want to hurt your feelings," Tony snorts.

"Well, I don't think they'd taste HORRIBLE," Peter defends half-heartedly. "It's not like I used dirt, I double checked the bag. It's definitely maybe cocoa powder."

"That's not suspicious."

The two smile at each other.

Tony continues to put cookies onto the sheet until both trays are full. Meanwhile, Peter finishes cleaning up the ingredients. When they're done, the kitchen looks clean and smells warmly of chocolate.

As Peter takes the last finished tray out of the oven, he furrows his eyebrows and looks over. "Wait. Why were you awake?"

"Heard you makin' noise in here," Tony shrugs. "I went to investigate. I'm glad I did, otherwise I would have missed out on making dirt cookies with you."

"Haha, very funny." Peter moves the cookies onto a cooling rack. "It clearly smells like chocolate, Mr. Stark. I didn't make dirt cookies again."

"I—AGAIN?"

Peter covers his mouth to quickly stop the noise of his roaring laughter. He waves his hands quickly, still choking on his laughs. "I'm kidding, I'm kidding!"

Tony shakes his head. "Good lord, kid."

The clock now reads three forty, and they're both sitting at the counter, eating chocolate cookies with large glasses of milk. They don't speak of the nightmares that kept Peter from sleeping, or the nightmares that caused Tony to get up. Instead, they eat in tranquility.

"These are actually pretty good, kid. Good job." Tony reaches over and rustles Peter's hair.

Peter grins, pulling away. "Yuck-You're gonna get cookie crumbs in my hair."

Tony laughs and goes back to eating. "Seriously though. These are good."

"Thanks." Peter smiles brightly at him.

The next day, Tony goes to his desk and is greeted with a framed photo of him and Peter at the counter, peacefully enjoying each other's company.

On the photo, a sticky note rests.

"Figured I would repay you for the baked goods, and what better way to do that then a photo of you and your kid? Just kidding. Or not. -N"

Tony laughs quietly. Of course Natasha had been up at the same time.

"FRIDAY, tell Nat I say thank you."

"Yes, Boss."

(The photo is proudly put on the counter of the kitchen for anybody to see. The Avengers don't ever ask about it, but Natasha smirks every time she passes it. Everyone knows better than to ask her, though.)

Fin.