From Irondad prompt #53 by itsmechara426 on her irondadmadlads blog!
"Mr. Stark, that storm's not looking so good."
"Mmm. I agree, Underoos. FRIDAY?"
"The storm ahead is unusually large, and there has been a tornado warning issued about thirteen miles ahead of you."
"Well, that doesn't sound promising. And it's too dark to see well at this point… Pete, I'm thinking we'd better stop for shelter for the night."
"Ugh, really? We're literally less than an hour from Buffalo," Peter complained, looking at the maps app on his phone. "I think. It's honestly kinda glitchy. Probably because of the storm?"
"Peter is correct. The storm is causing quite a bit of interference. I wouldn't recommend continuing to travel forward tonight."
"Where are we, FRI?"
"You're approaching Warsaw, New York. There are two hotels listed. I have called both of them already, and only one has a vacancy: The East Hill Inn. Follow the directions, please."
"Wow, FRIDAY," Peter said. "Ahead of the game there. I'm guessing you had no intention of letting us drive much further."
"Correct. But it's better when Boss makes the decision himself rather than trying to talk him into it." Peter tried to cover his laugh, but wasn't completely successful.
"I don't know why you have to be that way, darlin'. I can be completely reasonable if you just present me with the facts."
FRIDAY's silence spoke volumes. Tony sighed. "Whose idea was it to take a road trip to Buffalo instead of flying?"
"Mr. Stark, road trips are epic. Haven't you had fun today? We've listened to such great music, and some of yours, too," Tony sent him an unimpressed look. "And eaten so many snacks, and seen like 85 cows, some sheep, and a llama. A llama, Mr. Stark. It doesn't get much better than that."
Tony sniffed loudly. "If you say so. But why are we in the middle of Podunkville with only two motels, not even hotels, with a giant storm approaching?"
"Well, the route was your idea, sir, so I take zero responsibility for that." Peter leaned back in his seat and stretched out one shoulder, then the other.
"And zero responsibility for the driving, since you haven't even gotten your permit yet, even though you turn 16 in a few weeks," Tony grumbled.
"Ugh, that again? I'll try when we get back, okay? What's the point of having a license in New York City, Mr. Stark?"
"I'm just saying, it would have been nice to have someone else to do some of the driving on this road trip you were so eager to take," Tony grumbled again without any real anger. But his back was bugging him a bit. He was getting a little old and banged up for sitting in the same position all day. And after being in the car together all day without much to do, he and Peter were both a little less patient with each other than they might normally be.
They pulled into the driveway of the little motel, and Tony was unimpressed all over again. Peter seemed to agree.
"I think I saw this exact motel in a horror movie, sir. Maybe we should keep driving…"
"There are no other vacancies within fifteen miles, and the storm is getting closer," FRIDAY said firmly. "I recommend you stay here."
"Fine, FRI, fine. We're staying."
They got out of the car, feeling the cold raindrops that were already starting to splatter here and there, and went into the tiny office together. "Can we get a room, please? Or a couple of rooms?" Tony asked, setting down his license and credit card, and looking over to see what Peter preferred.
"One room is fine," Peter said quietly, glancing nervously at the approaching storm out the window.
"Actually, Mr… Stark," the clerk said, eyebrows raised as she looked at his license, "we only have one room left, and there's only one bed. So if you and your… son?" she said questioningly, "are okay sharing, you can have that one."
Mr. Stark looked at her, then looked at Peter. Peter looked back at him, his face expressing how he felt about that quite clearly, then Peter looked at the clerk and back at Tony. "Um…"
"Sorry, it's probably the last room in town, between the summer festival this weekend and the storm tonight," the clerk said, stone-faced.
Tony sighed. "That fine; we'll take it."
"Mr. Stark, what the crap?" said Peter quietly as they exited, after maintaining radio silence while Tony signed forms and paid for the room.
"Pete, what do you want us to do?" He gestured at the storm, then wiped the raindrops from his face illustratively.
"We could… sleep in the car?"
"Bud, if it's a single bed, I'm sure it's a king. There will be plenty of space. Half the time I can't even find Pepper in the middle of the night in ours."
Peter's nose wrinkled up. "More information than I wanted," he grumbled, but followed Tony to the car to collect their bags so they could check into their room.
It was not a king-size bed.
Tony wasn't even sure it was a queen-size bed. He would venture a fairly sure bet that it was a double bed.
"Who even makes double beds anymore?" he said under his breath.
"What?" Peter said, then walked in behind him, pulling the door closed against the rising winds. "Are you freaking kidding me?"
Tony would have argued, but Peter's sentiment was warranted, looking at the flowery bedspread cover on the small-ish bed. The flooring was indoor/outdoor carpet, and looked like it had been fresh and in style. In the 80's. It was worse for the wear now, and Tony resolved that he'd be leaving his shoes on.
"Yeah, that's gonna be fun," Tony said.
"Mr. Stark, I can just sleep on the…" well, there wasn't a couch. "Floor?"
"Pete, do you see that floor? Not gonna happen. We'll be fine. Really, what's the big difference between sleeping here and sleeping on the couch together like we do on movie nights sometimes? There's actually more room here," he said trying to be convincing through sheer force of will. Because his kid was not sleeping on the floor. And neither was Tony. He'd never be able to get back up.
"You want the bathroom first?" he asked Peter brightly.
Peter just glared at him, grabbed his bag, and stomped towards the bathroom. At least the room seemed clean, if very dated.
Tony flicked the TV on, but most of the stations were a bit staticky, or missing (again, maybe the storm?) He found one that was playing a mystery movie from the 70's that was reasonably clear, and left it on that.
Peter came back out. "Your turn," he said, his frustration seeming to have dissipated. In its place was obvious nervousness every time they heard thunder roll in the distance, and worried glances flicking towards the windows when the rain hit it extra hard.
"What happens if there is a tornado, Tony?" Peter asked quietly. "It's not like there's a basement here, and I don't know if we'll both fit in that bathroom…"
"Pete. It'll be okay. FRIDAY," he addressed his phone. "You'll wake us with enough time to make a plan if there's any tornado touchdown activity, right, honey?"
"Of course, Boss. One has touched down, but it was nearly thirty miles away, and did little damage before it resolved."
Peter looked like he wasn't sure if that made him feel better or worse.
"C'mon bud, aren't you tired? We had an early morning. You get comfortable while I get changed, and then I'll sit up for a bit while you fall asleep. We'll pretend it's just a movie night."
"Except neither of us would ever choose this," he said fervently, giving the tiny flatscreen a skeptical look.
"Oh, come on. The… FRI, what is this?"
"The Return of the Pink Panther, Boss."
"The Return of the Pink Panther is definitely a classic. To someone."
Peter sat down. "Sorry I'm being so negative, Mr. Stark. I'm sure it will be fine."
"It will. Now, is something bothering you, other than the storm? I know those make you nervous."
"Yeah, that. Also… May says when I've slept with her, that I don't exactly stay on my side. I'm pretty sure in a bed that size, you've got no chance, sir." Peter was scrubbing at the back of his neck and looking anywhere other than at Tony.
Ah. That explained the kid's aversion to having to share a bed. That made much more sense.
"Pete, it's one night. And we basically cuddle on the couch all the time. You won't offend me, kid. If I can't breathe, I'll shove you to your side, okay?"
Peter looked a little relieved. "Okay, but you've been warned."
"Now, lay down," he said, pointing at him sternly. "I'll be right out."
Peter had done as Tony had told him, and was stretched out under the covers, as far to one side as he could get. Tony smiled at the boy's efforts, and turned out the lamp, letting the lights of the TV wash over them. He climbed into the bed and sat up against the flimsy headboard, phone in one hand, and the other settling on the kid's head, scratching lightly in the way he'd learned would help Peter relax. Because the thunder had gotten a little louder and a little closer, and he could see Peter tense every time it clapped in the distance.
"Relax, Roo. I'm right here, and FRIDAY's keeping an eye on the storm for us. Plus, if worst comes to worst, you and I will probably be too busy trying to help everyone else in this fully loaded motel to worry about ourselves, hmm?"
Peter's eyes popped open. Strangely enough, the thought seemed to relax him further. "That's right. I didn't think of that." He breathed more deeply, then stopped hugging his side of the bed so intensely, and turned more comfortably onto his back. He sighed in contentment as Tony lazily dragged his hand through his curls, and within about fifteen minutes of that the Spiderkid was out. After communicating with Pepper, May, and a mildly frantic Happy, who had been watching the weather, Tony readjusted to lay down and try to get some sleep as well. The small conference in Buffalo didn't start until 11 the next day, but he didn't really want to be wiped out for it. He'd probably take his chances with the kid snuggling with him. And really, that wasn't a big deal. He could count on one hand the people he'd be okay sharing space with like this, but the teenager had definitely made the shortlist over the last 9 months. As long as he didn't donkey kick in his sleep like Rhodey did the few times he'd had to share a bed with him, they'd be good.
Tony dropped off to sleep faster than he thought he would, and only woke later to a big clap of thunder that sounded right outside, and a shaking teenager clinging to his side. The kid was being quiet, and obviously trying not to move much, or wake him, but the boy had an arm wrapped around his middle, and his face was pressed into Tony's arm.
"Hey, hey, shh…" Tony soothed. He extracted the closest arm and wrapped it around Peter, urging the boy's head into the crook of his shoulder. "I've got you, kiddo." He turned his head towards the nightstand. "FRIDAY?"
"The storm is directly overhead, but moving quickly. The worst of it should be gone within ten minutes or so. There is very low danger of tornado activity at this time."
"You hear that, Pete? It'll be over soon, and we're not in danger."
His kid nodded into his shoulder, and sighed. "Sorry… I'm… sorry."
"Nope. You're good. I'm fine, you're fine. Try to just relax and go back to sleep, huh?"
Peter took several deep breaths, and did seem to unwind a little. He tensed up again at the next giant thunder crack, and brought a hand up over his exposed ear, but it was quieter that time, and they continued to lessen. FRIDAY was right, and the storm blew through quickly.
When he thought the boy was finally asleep, Tony adjusted just a little into a more comfortable position, and leaned his head to the side to press a soft kiss to the top of the kid's head. But he was surprised and just a tiny bit embarrassed when the kid responded sleepily. "Night, Tony. Thanks."
"Good night, kid. Sleep well."
Tony woke once more in the night, trying and failing to extricate himself from the mildly traumatized teenager's grip. Was the kid sticking to him? He was pretty sure the grip he had on Tony's t-shirt was above and beyond "normal." Tony sighed, shifted as much as he could, and managed to go back to sleep finally. At least it was a cold night, so all of the forced togetherness was comfortable temperature-wise. What a predicament. Oh well, he'd slept lots of worse ways, and places. At least the kid didn't snore.
The next morning, Tony sat in the uncomfortable chair next to the bed and quietly sipped crappy motel-room coffee while he checked out the business headlines, with a side of storm damage reports. Nothing looked too bad. He heard a noise next to him, and turned to see two guilty-looking brown eyes blinking at him from the rumpled bed.
"Hey there, Sleeping Beauty. Nice of you to join me."
"Hey, Mr. Stark. Sorry about last night."
"For what? You did warn me. And that was quite the storm."
Peter's look of apprehension cleared a little, and he raised his eyebrows innocently. "So you're saying we should just drive into Buffalo for the day and come back to sleep here tonight? Is that what I'm hearing?"
"Under no circumstances, Octopus-man. I get my own bed tonight. I think I have a kink in my neck from when I couldn't get away from you. Did you know you can use your spider-sticky stuff in your sleep?"
Peter had the grace to look embarrassed, but also seemed to find it highly amusing, since Tony didn't seem to be upset. He sat up, and made a big production of stretching.
"Yeah, actually. That happened once before when I slept over at Ned's. He was not nearly as accepting of it as you are though." Peter snorted at the memory.
"Would have been good information, is all I'm saying," Tony said mildly, turning back to his phone. Peter laughed, and stumbled up out of bed.
"Get cleaned up. It's nearly 8, and we have things to do before my presentation at 1, capiche?"
"Capiche." Peter gathered his clothes and toiletries.
"Hey Tony?"
"Yeah, kid?"
"Has Pepper ever mentioned that you talk in your sleep?"
"Occasionally," Tony said warily. "Why?"
"I love you, too," Peter said with an insufferable grin on his face before escaping behind the closed bathroom door.
"Little punk. Truly awful child," Tony muttered into his phone. His cheeks may have been just slightly pink, but the corner of his mouth seemed unable to resist twitching upwards.