Archive of Our Own ^beta

Birthdays were special for Peter, but he’d learned that “special” could go either way. Sometimes it was awkward attention, with people singing off-key while he tried not to melt into the floor, and sometimes it was a quiet day spent with May, making the most mediocre version of a chocolate cake they could make together.

This year, though, was a different kind of special.

His day began with Aunt May knocking on his bedroom door at 8 a.m sharp, with far too much energy for someone who worked nights. She came in holding a plate stacked with pancakes shaped— well, vaguely shaped like spiders. Syrup was already dripping down the sides, despite Peter pointing out that his bed was cluttered with physics notes and yesterday’s hoodie, May insisted on “birthday breakfast in bed.”

She sat beside him as he ate, telling stories about when he was little; how she used to make pancakes with smiley faces and glitter sprinkles because, apparently, edible glitter had been “in” back in 2008.

Shortly after breakfast, Aunt May insisted she had to go somewhere. Though where, Peter wasn’t sure. It wasn’t uncommon for May to have errands to run. Nonetheless, Peter headed to Ned’s place. He and Ned had been saving a massive 8,000-piece LEGO set for a special occasion, and today was definitely that day. They sprawled out on the living room floor, sorting the bricks into organized piles, while Ned’s mom brought snacks and kept suggesting they go outside to do something “birthday-ish.” Neither of them explained that this was birthday-ish. By the time the base of the set was complete, it was already past two o’clock, and Peter had promised Tony he’d be at the tower by two thirty.

He didn’t expect much there. Tony Stark was always busy, and Peter was Peter. So he never expected much anyways, from anyone. He was always polite, that’s how his aunt and uncle raised him to be. Polite and grateful. He imagined he might get a quick “Happy birthday, kid,” before Tony returned to inventing something impossible.

Though his relationship with Tony had grown into more of a father-son bond, he still felt giddy that he was spending some of his birthday with Iron Man. It reminded him of his 9th birthday party. Not many people came, of course, but May and Ben had decked out the house in Iron Man decorations, and that’s all peter has needed for that to be his best birthday.

“THIS IS THE COOLEST BIRTHDAY EVER” he shouted as he bounced on the couch, wearing an iron man mask and pretending to use a repulsor from the palm of his hand.

The elevator beeped, snapping Peter out of whatever state of thoughts he was in. When the elevator doors opened to the common floor, Peter froze.

A massive banner stretched across the living room: Happy Birthday, Peter! in bold gold letters. Red and blue streamers curled down from the ceiling. Balloons, actual balloons, were tied in clusters around the furniture. Even the Tower’s AI was in on it.

“Welcome back, Birthday Boy,” Friday chimed as soon as he stepped out.

“Surprise!” Tony’s voice called from behind the couch, followed by Tony himself popping up, wearing a slightly crooked party hat that looked both ridiculous and perfect.

“Whoa,” Peter breathed, wide-eyed. “Mr. Stark, you didn’t—”

“—have to do all this?” Tony finished, smirking as he crossed the room. “Yeah, yeah. Heard that one before. But I wanted to.”

From the kitchen, Pepper appeared carrying a three-layer cake, perfectly frosted in white with gold piping. “Happy birthday, Peter,” she said warmly, setting the cake down and embracing him in a hug.

Peter blinked. “You baked that? Woah. Thank you Pepper. You really didn’t have to though!” Peter said, a smile spread across his face that she had even gone through the effort.

“It’s chocolate fudge inside,” she said, clearly pleased with herself.

May followed behind, her arms full of snacks she insisted on bringing despite Pepper’s clear preparedness. So that’s where she went. Happy was sat on the same couch tony was crouched behind minutes before, with his usual understated presence, nodding a casual “hey, kid happy birthday” that carried more meaning than it sounded like.

Standing there, surrounded by people who cared, Peter felt something warm settle in his chest.

Tony clapped his hands. “Okay, cake later. Present now.”

“Mr. Stark, you didn’t—”

“If you finish that sentence, I’m revoking your cake privileges.”

Peter laughed. “Okay, okay. What is it?”

Tony handed him a box wrapped in shiny red paper with gold ribbon, the corners so perfectly folded it looked machine-made. Or Pepper-made. Which was more likely. Peter unwrapped it carefully, revealing a sleek black box with the Stark Industries logo etched in silver.

Inside was a brand-new DSLR camera, complete with an extra lens and a strap embroidered with Property of Peter Parker in gold thread.

“No way,” Peter whispered, lifting it gently like it might disappear if he handled it wrong. “This is… this is the one I’ve been looking at for months. How did you-?”

“I have my ways,” Tony said lightly, though the flicker of satisfaction in his eyes betrayed him. “You’re always borrowing that old school camera that sounds like it’s gasping for air every time you take a shot. Figured you could use one that actually works.”

Peter swallowed, overwhelmed. “I don’t even know what to say. Seriously Mr Stark!” He dived into Tonys arms without a second thought. His face squished in his chest, taking in the smell of motor oil coated in expensive cologne. “Thank you. So much”

“You’re welcome, kid.” Tony’s voice softened. “You deserve it.”

The rest of the evening was easy, relaxed. No villains, no patrols, no alarms interrupting the moment. They gathered around the table, enjoying Pepper’s cake, which was as good as it looked. May shared embarrassing childhood stories, which Tony listened to with far too much interest. Happy joked that Peter was the only reason Tony remembered birthdays at all, a claim Tony denied while trying not to smile.

After cake, Tony asked to see Peter’s recent photos. Peter opened his laptop, expecting Tony to give them a quick glance, but instead, Tony leaned in, asked questions, and pointed out details he liked. Across the table, May caught Peter’s eye and mouthed see? as if she’d known all along how perfect the evening would be.

When the night wound down and May said it was time to go, Peter lingered at the doorway. Tony noticed immediately.

“Something wrong, kid?” he asked.

Peter shook his head. “No.” He gave Tony one last hug for the night. The same smile plastered on his face.

Tony tilted his head, smiling in that quiet, genuine way he reserved for moments like this. “Good. That’s what we were going for.”

Peter left with the new camera slung over his shoulder, the strap catching the light as he stepped into the elevator. He knew it wasn’t the decorations, or the cake, or even the camera, though the camera was incredible.

It was the fact that every single person in that room had gone out of their way to make his day special.

They didn’t have to. But they did.

And that made all the difference.

This definitely beat his 9th birthday.