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Tony regretted the day he ever let Harley Keener meet James.
It had started out fine, Harley had been seventeen and tagging Tony in every IronMan post he found on Facebook, when his mom had passed, and Tony had taken him in, and James was settling into normal, domestic life nicely, discovering his mischievous side occasionally, and then Tony had to go and ruin it.
After months of discussions, online chats, paperwork and heart-to-hearts, Tony had introduced them, offered coffee, and Harley, the little shit, had requested a beer, and Tony, because he was a responsible adult damn it, did the right thing. “Don’t even think about it, kiddo.”
“But Tonyyy..you’ve got a drink! And we’re connected!”
“Harley you’re underage.”
“Boo you whore!”
James had snorted. Adorable, in Tony’s opinion, but nonetheless, he had laughed. At Tony. Getting insulted. By a fucking seventeen year old. And Harley’s little genius face had lit up with the realisation of the wonder that was James Barnes.
“Tony told me you don’t get memes..?”
James had the grace to look sheepish.
“Pete’s been teachin’ me. Says I can’ date Tony ‘f ‘m not..”woke”?”
Harley’s face had crumpled at that.
“Oh. Peter huh? Tony mentioned him.” James had nodded.
“Little shit, he is.”
*****
Since then, they’d been best of fucking friends, and Tony had been miserable. Prank after prank after goddamn prank. There’d been sugar in his coffee, his whiskey was replaced with syrup, hair dye in his shampoo, glitter in his repulsers, and once, when James had brought Peter in, reassuring Harley, in his apparent jealously for Peter, by introducing him as Spider-Man, a maze of tinsel-webs keeping him from the kitchen after he’d gotten distracted improving the toaster last time it had been his turn to make breakfast.
Then Peter had arrived for the summer.
*****
James adored Peter. With all of his tiny, assassin heart, adored the kid, for his snark, his sass, his genius, his strength, but mostly, his willingness to let James film him doing backflips in weird places for the likes. James also adored Harley. He thought the spastic ball of ingenuity and rage was the best thing since sliced bread, and had been known to sneak him a bottle of beer, or a slice of cake, and one on particularly memorable occasion, funding for twenty kilos of glitter and sequins, without asking for the reason.
Tony, of course, adored both his spider son and his science child. He appreciated the way they weren’t afraid to butt in when they knew better than him, and the way they weren’t star struck, anymore, in Peter’s case, and the way they stuck magnets on James’ arms but had never been afraid of him.
So obviously, neither saw the problem with them meeting. Obviously Harley had his bitterness, but by eighteen, he’d started calling Tony dad, Bucky Pops, and had accepted his place as their eternal favourite.
*****
“Mr Stark! Mr Stark! Tony! Mr Tony! Hi! Hi! Mr Stark!” Tony was not prepared for an armful of spiderson, but his kiddo had already caught the falling mug of coffee and pulled away by the time he’d recognised Peter in his arms.
James coughed. “Hey to you too Pete.”
“Mr Barnes! James? Hello! Hi!” Peter has cautiously held an arm out, only to be aggressively wrestled into a hug.
“So this is Peter?” Harley drawled, doing his best to sound unimpressed, but James knew the kid, and the flush across his cheeks was impossible to miss. Peter had one to match.
“Oh. Hi. Wow. Um. Harley? Right? Harley Stark? Harley Keener? Um? Hello? Nice to meet you? I’m Parker-fuck-Peter. I’m Peter Parker.”
“And Spider-Man?” Tony sighed softly, muttering into his coffee as Peter froze.
“Mr Stark?” He all but squeaked. Tony nodded.
“He’s my son, kiddo, he’s got the all clear.”
Peter nodded faintly, looking a little jealous, a little flushed, and a lot overwhelmed.
“I’m gonna. I’m gonna go unpack okay Mr Stark?”
“Jeez kid it’s Tony.”
“Okay..Tony. I’m gonna go unpack. I’ll come down to the labs in a bit.” And then he’d gone.
*****
Harley hated Peter Parker. He had done for years. Since the very first time Tony had redirected a conversation to talk about the kid. Pure hatred. And then that had faded over time and mild curiosity had taken its place. It took a year for him to meet the fabled Peter Parker, and what he got was a blushing, stammering, adorable, fucking ripped, mess.
Okay so maybe he didn’t really hate Peter Parker.
Truth be told he quite liked the way the younger boy pressed up against him as they crowded round Tony to watch him demonstrate something new, and the way he blinked slowly with his huge doe eyes whenever he was confused, and god he loved the way he blushed delicately whenever Harley made even the slightest pass at him.
*****
“I used to be jealous of you. Y’know?”
“What really?”
“Yeah. I mean. Tony Stark is your fucking dad. And James is your other dad. And I love my aunt May to death but I’ve never had a dad. Ever. And not only did you have two, but you had my idols and my mentors, and two of my best friends.”
Oh. Oh.
“But then I got here and you were so funny and bitchy and rude and I realised that I like being in this family even more because you’re in it.”
Oh.
*****
Okay so he actually kind of really liked Peter Parker.
*****
They got along like a house on fire, like his dad and pops had said, and Peter was gorgeous when he was grinning like a maniac, painting a purple unicorn onto the shoulder servos for the newest update for pop’s arm, or when he was helping Harley arrange fireworks for halfway through one of Tony’s showcase flights, not dangerous, of course, but funny as hell to watch him be overshadowed, and then the Rogues returned, and the ruthless way in which Peter devoted himself to ruining their goddamn lives had Harley getting hard in the most unfortunate of situations.
*****
“Are you sure this is a good idea?”
Peter snorted. “Since when are you the voice of reason?”
“That’s..That’s what’s worrying me.”
“We’ll be fine Harls. Darling Steve needed a revamp anyways.”
They stepped back to admire their handiwork, the captain America suit, redone in delicate purple and pink, with a heart over the star on both his suit and shield that contained a speaker they’d worked on that quoted My little pony at volumes that although impressive to a normal human, would be irritating and nigh on painful for Roger’s superhuman hearing, whenever impacted. Pops, of course, wouldn’t train anywhere near the Rogues, and wouldn’t be affected.
Harley had come so hard to the image of Peter’s smirk when he’d suggested it.
*****
“Harls...”
“Mm..?”
“You okay?”
“Yeah..um...you..you look good in a tux Pete.”
Peter flushed, and Harley’s heart clenched slightly.
“Really? You uh..you think so?”
“Yeah Pete.”
“You..you look really good too.”
*****
“Peter..”
“Yeah?”
“Why are you shirtless?”
“Oh, James threw his lemonade at me.”
“Why?”
“I insulted his brownies.”
“Bad decision.”
“Yeah...Harley?”
“Yeah Pete?”
“Why are you staring at my stomach?”
“Is that a tattoo?”
“Shut the fuck up.”
*****
“James..”
“Yeah Doll?”
“Are our children....flirting?”
James blanched, watching Peter and Harley slowly wrap around each other as the four of them settled on the Tower Roof to watch the sunset. “I think so. Oh my god.”
“I know right??”
*****
“Everyone is staring Harls.”
“Let em.” Harley kissed Peter again slowly.
“Harley captain America is watching us kiss and he already hated us what are we doing oh my god?”
“Relax baby.” He hummed softly. “What the fuck is he gonna do?” He held up a glass of scotch, a little toast to the Star Spangled Twat, drank half, before pressing the glass to Peter’s lips, then chasing the taste on Peter’s tongue.
*****
“James did you fucking see that?? Our son is a menace! And really fucking smooth! Did you see what he just did! In front of Rogers himself?!” Tony let himself be bundled up in blankets, and then his boyfriend’s arms.
“‘S What we raised him to do, ain’t it?”