Work Text:
Colonel James Rhodes has seen Tony Stark do an awful lot of weird things over the years. They’ve been friends since the MIT days, and Rhodey considers Tony probably his closest friend. He has others, sure, but nothing compares to the friend who has literally seen you drink a triple vodka shot out of a sock one dark, dark evening during their college days. These memories are part of the reason that Rhodey is now T-total and has sworn to never let a drop of alcohol touch his lips again. He’s scarred for life.
Rhodey was the one who was there for Tony when his parents died, when he was stranded in a desert in Afghanistan, when he started flying around in a suit of armour protecting the world, when he almost died once, twice, three times. In turn, Tony was there for him when his own mum died, when he got into the military, when he’d paralysed his legs almost beyond repair after flying around in a suit Tony had given him. He knew Tony Stark like the back of his hand, probably one of the few people who could pride himself on that knowledge.
There were three things that people needed to know when it came to Tony Stark. The real people, not the journalists, not the celebrities: the people who knew him, spent time with him. Tony had boundaries, and they were sacred boundaries, not to be crossed.
1. Tony Stark needed his space
If Tony was in his lab, that was not to be interrupted unless the world was quite literally on fire or if someone had betrayed him again. Access to this lab was prestigious, and Rhodey knew from experience that if you entered this space without being invited in, you were in for it.
He learnt not to enter it, because Rhodey quite liked all of his limbs to remain attached to his body thank you very much, and he knew first-hand the strength of those repulsors, and he liked not to have his eardrums exploded because Tony played his music loud. If Tony was in there, and he was working, then he was working, and it wouldn’t do to parade in and try to get him to do something else. His brain didn’t work like that, and it never had. When Tony was doing something, he was doing something. He’d been that way since college.
So if he was in the lab, he was in the lab, and it was a holy space not to be disturbed. That was the first rule.
2. Tony Stark did not like kids.
Tony squirmed around children.
It was okay when he was a teenager, in MIT, because it was rare that he would be around any kids. No one idolised the boy genius who was increasingly growing a reputation as a playboy and an alcoholic. But one Christmas, Rhodey had taken Tony to the Rhodes Family Christmas gathering and meal, because “Starks don’t do Christmas” and Rhodey hadn’t wanted Tony to be alone by himself for the winter holiday. Rhodey’s family had been surprised but welcoming, and Tony had been popular among the younger cousins of the group, who thought he was ‘so cool’ when he spent the whole week manufacturing a working robot from scrap materials he found in Rhodey’s parents’ garage (when Tony was doing something, he was doing something).
But when the kids had tried to hug him at the end of the week, when their bags were packed and they were ready to get on their plane back to MIT, Tony was awkward. He was uncomfortable: he’d winced and squirmed out of any affection. He was an only child, so Rhodey understood, but any interaction Tony had had with a kid since then, no matter the age, no matter the situation, all of them had been with a level of coldness, as though there was a wall between Tony and the child in question.
Rhodey knew that it wasn’t genuine. He saw the small smiles that slipped out when Tony was actually talking to a kid, the soft moments that he allowed for just a second before he put the wall back in place. As though he was not letting himself like kids, because he was scared about where it would go. As though he was scared of getting attached. Rhodey knew that it was because of Chief Asshole Howard Stark. Tony was convinced he’d turn into his father, and therefore he rejected any form of interaction with individuals under eighteen as a result, just as a protection. Just in case.
So, the second boundary being that he didn’t like kids…it wasn’t exactly true, wasn’t worded correctly. Perhaps Tony Stark didn’t tolerate kids. But it applied, nevertheless. Tony didn’t like being in situations with kids. Rule number two.
And the most crucial rule to uphold?
3. Tony Stark did not like being handed things.
Rhodey didn’t like to comment too much on this rule. It haunted him.
These rules were sacred, sacrilegious. Rhodey had broken them on a handful of times and regretted it ever since. But when he’d broken the most crucial rule, it had firmly been stuck in his mind. Once, in college, he tried to hand Tony an apple, trying to get him to eat because he’d been holed up doing some experiment for a solid four days, no eating, no sleeping. When Rhodey had tried — forced, really — to pass the fruit to him, Tony had stared at him blankly and had progressed from no longer eating or sleeping to no longer talking. That had gone on for a further week. Rhodey had never tried it again, and had made it the Most Important of the Boundaries for one Tony Stark. There were others, minor ones, but those three he held as the golden trio, the most important ones to uphold.
Rhodey was Tony’s best friend because he knew the importance of the rules, and worked hard to ensure they were upheld.
Every couple of weeks, if they could, they tried to meet up. It was hard — they both had complicated schedules. Even before Iron Man, even before both of them became internationally recognised superheroes, their schedules would clash. But they both found time, usually, to put aside for a Rhodey-Tony meet up.
Which was why Rhodey found himself in the backseat of a car with Tony one Wednesday afternoon. They’d just gone out to lunch, some Italian place (because Tony always wanted to eat Italian), and Tony had looked at the time on his phone and had told Happy to drive to some random address in Queens.
Rhodey had literally no idea what kind of business Tony could possibly have in Queens of all places, and was even more confused when it turned out to be a high school. Because, what?
“Happy, pull up here,” Tony commanded, getting out of the car. Just before he closed the door, Tony turned to him, looked him up and down with a smirk. “Be normal, please.”
What kind of instruction was that?
“Hogan— what?” Rhodey spluttered.
Happy just shook his head and looked in the mirror. Tony leaned on the stationary car, playing on his phone. His sunglasses were on and he’d donned his signature suit. Not exactly conspicuous.
And then the bell went, and kids flooded out of the school. A few of them gave Tony an odd look, because he was Tony Stark standing outside a high school. Tony put away his phone and was standing up straight, arms behind his back. Rhodey watched out the window. Tony seemed to be scanning the area for something — someone, Rhodey realised as Tony waved a hand at a brown-haired teenager with some nerd t-shirt on. The kid grinned, waved goodbye to his two friends and came running towards Tony.
Rhodey had been surprised many times before. He was surprised when he met Tony Stark for the first time, the son of a multi-millionaire, drunk and depressed and only fifteen. He was surprised when he fell in love for the first time. He was surprised when he found out that Tony had decided to stop the weapons department and started becoming a superhero instead. But he had never, ever felt as gobsmacked, shocked, surprised, confused as he was when this random teenager, this person—child—he had never met before, hugged Tony immediately.
He was even more stunned when Tony hugged the kid back.
It was a tight hug — a real one, not one of the ones Rhodey got, an arm around the shoulder. No, this was an actual hug, something that Tony hardly ever gave. Rhodey blinked. He was feeling so many things, and could not for the life of him figure out how to explain them. Betrayal, mainly — he was Tony’s closest friend in the world, and he hadn’t told him about…well, whoever this kid is.
Because the kid is a kid, and Tony doesn’t do kids. He doesn’t associate with them, it was one of the rules. Tony and the teenager exchanged in a quick conversation and then got into the car. Rhodey examined this kid’s face as he clambered into the car as though he’d done it a million times before.
And then Rhodey almost has a panic attack, because, upon close inspection, this kid has brown eyes exactly like Tony’s, and holy shit does Tony Stark have an honest-to-god secret son?!
“Oh my god,” the kid said, his mouth falling open in shock. Rhodey hoped his face wasn’t reflecting that of the kid’s, because he felt the same way completely. His mouth was dry.
“Yes, I brought a guest for the ride today,” Tony said from the front seat, a smile playing across his face. “Rhodey, this is Peter. Peter, Rhodey.”
Rhodey blinked again as the kid— Peter —stared at him in awe.
“Oh my god, you’re War Machine,” Peter’s jaw had dropped.
“Iron Patriot,” Rhodey whispered in correction, not even thinking about it. Iron Patriot, really, that was where his brain was right now?
“Yeah, but we all know that War Machine was cooler, Honeybear, you’re not fooling anyone.”
Rhodey couldn’t bring himself to say anything, to ask, because what, what the fuck, why were they sitting in a car with a minor? Tony glanced back at him, his unchanging face, and shrugged, switching his gaze to look at the kid.
“Anyways, how was your day at school, kiddo?”
Kiddo?
Rhodey let out a small breath he didn’t know he had been holding at the term of endearment and Tony shot him the hint of a glare, which was saying Really, Honeybear, I told you to be normal.
Peter didn’t seem to notice, though, and launched into an in-depth analysis of his day. Tony listened attentively, raising his eyebrows at big reveals, and making various comments which made no sense because why on earth did Tony know the exact name of this kid’s Spanish teacher.
It also quickly became fairly clear that the kid was like, as much of a genius as Tony, because they started to engage in some kind of chat about something that seemed vaguely like physics but not quite physics that Rhodey only just about caught the drift of before he stopped understanding. Rhodey shot a confused glance at Happy, who just shrugged at him through the mirrors. The pair of them only stopped in their discussion when the car pulled to a stop.
Their final destination was, apparently, Stark Tower, because clearly Tony decided to drive himself home. Who knew why they’d brought the kid along, but hey, Rhodey was compartmentalising it all. He’d controlled the urge to spiral into a panic attack, because what the hell was wrong with Tony, he was breaking Rule Two, and this was a kid who looked a hell of a lot like Tony, and that was just unfathomable, and then he was opening the door to get out of the car.
“Uh, uh, uh,” Tony said, placing a hand on the half opened door, “This isn’t your stop.”
Rhodey glanced from his billionaire best friend to the kid, who had gotten out of the car alongside Tony and there had been no rejection of the kid getting out of the car, so how come he was being confined to the car? Had he missed some unspoken agreement?
“Right, Rhodes,” Tony gestured towards the kid, “I’ve got a lab session with this one, so where do you want to be dropped? Happy can take you anywhere. Preferably on this side of the US, or he gets a little grumpy.”
Rhodey tried not to let his mouth drop open in shock, but it was hard. He was being upstaged by a teenager — replaced. He tried not to feel offended. Rhodey decided to allow it, on the principle that there was a small glint of excitement in Tony’s eyes and the kid was practically bouncing. It would be wrong to separate them now.
But…he had so many unanswered questions.
Rhodey shook his head a little. “Tony—can’t we—” but the words can’t we please talk about this died in his mouth as he looked at the eyes that Tony was giving him, which said ‘this is not a conversation for now’, and he shut up. He considered himself an expert in reading Tony Stark’s eyes, so he stopped even trying to vocalise.
“Lovely hanging out with you as always, Honeybear,” There was the signature Stark smile, the one for the press, the one that Rhodey was kind of sick of seeing when he knew what Tony’s genuine smile looked like. “Directions to Happy, stat, see you in a month.”
And then Tony slammed the door in his face. Happy let out a chuckle, and stared at Rhodey, waiting direction. Rhodey coughed, trying to get himself to say actual words. “Um— airport. Please.”
So then the car pulled off, and the image of Tony and the kid walking into Stark Industries was burned into his retina, Tony’s hand messing up Peter’s hair and Peter clinging onto the straps of his backpack like he was scared it would fly away. No explanation, no nothing. He doesn’t even try to ask Hogan, because he wants the direct fucking explanation from Tony when they next meet up, and he will get it even if it kills him.
Two months went by before he next saw the kid. He never got time to talk to Tony about the appearance of Peter in his life, and whenever they spoke on the phone, it was in attempt to arrange one of their hang-outs. But Tony had an Iron Man crisis, and then Rhodey himself had a work trip over in Pakistan, so the hang-outs fell through and he never got to ask about the kid.
They never arranged something new, so, his next free day off work, Rhodey decided to go to Stark Tower. Tony had been suspiciously quiet over the last week and that was normally a warning sign. So he didn’t call beforehand, just walked into the Tower and asked FRIDAY to send him straight to Tony’s lab.
The elevator literally dinged and Rhodey was trying to get something out of his eye (because it was fucking annoying). He cocked his ear to listen, and then raised an eyebrow, eyes still covered. There was no music — there was always music in Tony’s lab, he had had half a mind to make it one of the official rules. Some kind of blasting ACDC music was typically what was playing.
Rhodey faltered. Maybe he wasn’t in. But surely not — FRIDAY had told him that Tony was in the lab. She never lied.
“I’m not hearing any blasting music, Tones,” Rhodey finished plucking the goop out of his eyes, “but FRIDAY told me—” and then he opened his eyes, mid-jibe, and he had to stabilise himself on the banister in the elevator, and it was sure as hell not because his legs faulted, it was because he could not believe what he was fucking seeing.
His feet planted, refused to move. Because there was Tony, and Rhodey didn’t give a shit what he was working on because there was Peter, smile across his face, spanner in his hand, mid-way through passing the tool to Tony, and Tony was holding out his hand to accept it.
All three of the most important rules being broken at one time because rule one, Tony doesn’t like people in his lab was shattered, Peter was in Tony’s lab, rule two, demolished because Tony didn’t like spending time with kids and here he was spending time with a kid and rule three, the most important, the most crucial, was being obliterated because Tony didn’t like being handed things and here was Tony being handed something and accepting it without blinking.
Rhodey started to shake without realising it. Tony’s gaze was focused on him, and Rhodey was vaguely aware that Peter was saying hello, and Rhodey couldn’t stop himself from glancing between Tony and Peter, the same slightly confused, slightly concerned expression littered across both of their faces. They looked the same, and jesus christ this kid had to be Tony’s kid, look at them together.
“Tony—” Rhodey said, arms limp and face not quite in control of his emotions. “A word?”
Tony got up from his seated position, put the spanner that Peter had passed him back down on the work surface, clapped his hands together and then wandered off to the lab’s kitchen, which was hardly ever used, because Tony wasn’t a normal human who ate at normal times. Rhodey forced his legs to move into action and followed him.
They were just about out of ear shot when Tony started talking.
“Okay, look, I admit,” Tony held out his hands, inviting conversation, “I should have explained, before, that was a gross error on my behalf, sorry about—”
But Rhodey cut him off, because he couldn’t take it any more. “Tony I swear to god, I know you keep secrets but having a child is not exactly the kind of one you keep from me for fourteen years or however old that kid is.”
“He’s fifteen, actually,” Tony corrected, and Rhodey lost his vision just a little, because dear god.
“So he is yours?” Rhodey retorted angrily, because holy shit it was exhausting being the best friend of Tony Stark. Honestly, you think you know a man and his boundaries and then one day some child came along and crashed through all of them, the carefully set boundaries from twenty years ago. Sorry, but anyone who was able to do that has to be related to Tony. Because come on.
“No! No, he’s not mine!” Tony’s eyes widened in alarm as he actually processed it. “You thought he was mine?”
Thank god. Rhodey didn’t think he could handle it if Tony had actually had a kid and hadn’t told him this whole time.
“Have you seen him?” Rhodey gestured to where Peter was, voice raised. “You have a kid in there who looks exactly like you.”
Tony glanced over to where Peter was, back at Rhodey, eyes wide, and whispered, “Volume! Also, he absolutely does not look like me.”
Tony had to be kidding. That kid was the spitting image of Tony when he was fifteen and had just entered MIT.
“Tony,” Rhodey said. There was a beat of silence as Tony’s smile dropped from his face.
"No, he— he doesn’t. He doesn’t look like me, not really.”
“You’re sure he’s not yours?” Rhodey asked again.
“Yes!” Tony shot an incredulous look at him.
“He’s got parents?” Rhodey said, eyebrow raised. From what he’d seen of Tony and Peter interacting, Tony was giving off big dad energy. It was actually a good look on the man, albeit not one Rhodey had ever anticipated.
“Well,” Tony winced, voice low and quiet. “They’re dead, but he has an aunt. His guardian.”
Ah. So Tony was some kind of replacement father figure. It was starting to make a lot more sense. Rhodey said something along the same lines of that to Tony, that he was filling in as Peter’s dad figure, something of the same sentiment, and Tony’s eyes widened in surprise.
“No— I’m not, um— I’m just his mentor,” He smiled dopily. “He’s my intern. Of sorts.”
“Right,” Rhodey said. This was definitely what mentors did with their interns. Normal mentors totally picked them up from school when they were engaged in another social event to drive them personally to their place of work for a one-on-one lab session with a billionaire. Normal mentors totally ruffled their intern’s hair, and knew everything about their school life, and listened to their day without interruption. Normal mentors would totally use terms of endearment like ‘kiddo’ that normally only parents would use. Totally just a mentor-intern relationship, of course.
Yeah, Tony was a dad.
“Okay but,” Rhodey double checked as he caught a glimpse of Peter’s face again — the kid was glancing towards them as though wondering what was taking so long. “Are you sure he’s not biologically yours?”
“Rhodey, he’s fifteen, you think I’d be able to keep a secret from you for that long?” Tony waved a hand at Peter.
“Tony,” Rhodey raised an eyebrow, “I had to reassess my whole life when that kid climbed into the car with us and you were as calm as anything. Do I need to remind you that you don’t deal with kids?”
“Honeybear, I do like kids,” Tony said frostily in retort.
“That is not what I said and you know it,” Rhodey replied crossly, because hell, of course he knew Tony liked kids, that was a whole different conversation.
They bickered for several more minutes before Peter came into the kitchen and introduced himself properly, apparently not being able to stand seeing them fight any longer. The more Rhodey heard the kid speak, the more he loved him, and he understood almost instantly how this kid had gained Tony’s favour so quickly.
The geniuses went back to the lab session, seemingly having their own silent language, own way of working with each other, and Rhodey watched them work. And Rhodey slowly began to realise that this kid — who, for all sense and purposes, really, was Tony’s kid — managed to be the only person in existence to surpass Tony’s set-in-stone boundaries, the kind of ones that have been in place for two decades, in about two months?
So for the first time in what has been a long, long while, he watched from a distance as Tony Stark smiled his real smile at Peter Parker as they messed around with some metal device, and Rhodey thought, yeah. Yeah. Peter Parker deserved to be the one to shatter Tony’s boundaries like they were made of thin glass.