#I made it as fluffy as possible under the gloomy circumstances haha

[ask-ursa-tonypeter]

Can we talk abt the first laugh, the first smile after uh Pyrite and Double Blind Peters’ trauma? Was it over a dog video? Tony saying something that was so emotionally mature and it crystallizes everything for Peter that he’s safe now? Maybe it’s a traumatic type of laugh like, angsty to the max, wow I don’t have to worry about my virginity anymore?

Peter woke to the sound of arguing.

"—read one article, and you decided to just go off on your own, pick one out and bring it home without even asking?"

"Yep, that's about the size of it."

He sat up slowly on the couch, limbs leaden with exhaustion and eyes bleary. He'd passed out in the living room after only catnaps all night, but no matter how deeply sleep had pulled him under, he couldn't sleep through Tony and Howard arguing anymore.

"You could have at least taken him with you," Howard's voice floated in from the hallway, and from the sound of his and Tony's steps, they were headed Peter's way.

There was another sound mixed in with their dull footfalls, though— a kind of jingling like jostled keys.

"He wouldn't have come," Tony said as he rounded his way into the living room, but Peter was already preoccupied by what had made it into the room just before him.

It was a dog. Big enough to come up to Tony's knee with a coat of wavy copper fur, blazes of white at its chest and paws. It was sniffing the carpet busily as it came into the living room, tail moving at a steady wag, but its head came up abruptly when it spotted Peter staring from the couch.

"Hey, kid, you're awake," Tony said, and he dropped the red leash clipped to the dog's collar. It promptly trotted over to Peter, tail wagging double-time, and occupied itself sniffing his knees. "Happy early birthday."

Peter looked between him and the dog, still sluggish with sleep.

"...My birthday isn't 'til summer," he said, turning his hand up on his knee so the dog could snuffle into it. Its wet nose was cool against his palm while it took in his scent, and he slowly pet its head, dazed.

"Yeah, that's why it's early," Tony said. He shrugged, and then spread his arms wide in celebration. "Congratulations, Pete, it's a girl. The shelter said her name is Eunice of all godawful things, but I know you can save her from that fate."

"You don't have to keep her if you don't want to, Peter," Howard said reassuringly, but he shot a pointed frown at Tony. "Or if you want a different pet, we can get you one that you've picked out yourself."

The dog sat, leaning her weight against Peter's leg while he scratched her ears. She was watching him with bright interest, dark eyes trained on his face and her mouth parted in a gentle doggy smile.

Her fur was really soft. He'd had lots of soft things in the tower, piled with plush throws and silk sheets and buttery-smooth pajamas, but he still couldn't help but find them comforting.

"...Did you get her toys or anything?" he asked, ruffling her fur with both hands.

"Left 'em at the front." Tony rocked onto the balls of his feet, fidgeting, obvious even out of Peter's peripheral vision. "Wanna see?"

In typical Tony fashion, there were bags and bags of dog toys and walking harnesses and different varieties of dog food on the patio. Tony and Howard watched as Peter picked through them, thinking vaguely that maybe he'd offer the dog a toy from each kind of category to see what she liked best.

"You could've let him pick something," Howard murmured disapprovingly, never, ever satisfied.

"I'm picking right now," Peter said, not looking up as he dug out a plush squirrel with a huge fluffy tail from the first bag. "He just brought the store here."

"...Well, that's true," Howard said after a pause. Waiting for Tony to interject with something smug, probably, but Tony was quiet where he was holding the dog's leash again to keep her from digging into the pet store bags herself. Howard cleared his throat then, and his voice was more gentle when he asked, "You think you'll like it, then? Having a dog?"

The dog took the plush squirrel when Peter handed it to her, dropping to lay on the patio so she could gnaw on it with her tail wagging furiously, but her head came up hopefully when Peter shifted his weight back towards the bags. Not a mega-hit, then. Maybe a squeaky toy?

…Howard had asked him something— right, he wanted to know—

"He wouldn't let me have one," Peter said, unthinking.

—and froze. He hadn't meant to say— ugh, stupid—

He rushed to busy himself digging through the bags to distract from his stinging cheeks, and hurriedly mumbled, "I mean, obviously not a dog because I couldn't take it outside, but like— a cat or a turtle or a… I think he just, didn't want me to get attached to anything else, so—"

'Stop making it awkward,' he begged himself, desperately dragging a squashy orange squeaky bone out of the bag and giving it a squeeze to cover up his family's frozen silence. 'They don't want to hear about it; just shut up—'

There was a sudden rush of jangling, and Peter looked up just in time to see the dog tangle herself in her leash as she spun in a giddy circle, landing on her side with an audible oof. His eyes widened with concern, but before he could even move towards her she sprang back to her feet and dove into a play-bow, enthusiasm fully restored.

Her tail was wagging so hard that it made her entire back half wiggle with it, and it was— ridiculous and silly and perfect somehow, the way she was so entirely oblivious to the tension. There they all were, paralyzed by mortification and guilt and the weight of said and unsaid things, and she may as well have been the happiest dog alive with just the promise of some chewy latex and a squeaker.

Peter scoffed a laugh, grinning, and wagged the toy towards the dog's face so that she could eagerly snatch it out of his hand.

"I think she might have a favorite," he said while she squeaked her new toy in a rapturous frenzy. He glanced up to trade a grin with Tony, but—

Tony was staring at him, expression like a wound, all raw shock. He gathered himself after half a beat when Peter's smile started to drop, fixing his expression and giving a nonchalant shrug.

"Gotta love a lady that knows what she wants," he said, and looked towards Howard. "Dad, do you wanna get Mom?"

"...Yes," Howard said, belated and somehow dazed, and he cleared his throat again. "Yes, ah… The dog seems like a perfect fit; Maria should meet her. Why don't— why don't you let her off her leash, Peter, and you can play with her in the yard?"

"...Okay," Peter said, feeling a little lost and off-balance, but— Tony's bizarre hurt hadn't turned itself into defensiveness, and Howard had actually praised one of Tony's ideas, so maybe everything was okay?

The dog streaked down the patio steps into the yard when Peter threw her squeaky bone for her, a bolt of copper and unrestrained delight, and it was almost startling to see something move so fast when he'd gotten used to the stillness of a life entirely indoors. He couldn't help but smile at the way she danced back up to him with her toy successfully reclaimed when he joined her out on the grass, and when he glanced back at the patio, his dad was still lingering in the open doorway, watching.

Howard smiled back before he finally turned to go into the house, which was strange but nice. He used to smile at Peter a lot before everything, but— well, it was just good to know that he could still be something for his parents other than baggage.

Tony came down into the yard to stand with him as Peter threw the dog's toy again. Watching her race after it, Peter felt steady enough to ask, "Why are you guys being weird?"

Tony didn't answer right away. Peter wasn't really nervous anymore after seeing his dad's smile, but he glanced over, curious, and Tony looked away.

"S'just nice to see you happy, kid," he said gruffly, eyes trained back towards the house. He swallowed hard and added, "Mom'll like her too. I bet she'll want to put her in sweaters and stuff."

"Oh," Peter said. "...Yeah, that would be cute."

He knelt down when the dog came back to him this time, ruffling her fur and feeling the soft warmth of her simple happiness under his hands. She wiggled from the attention, dark eyes crinkled with contentment and tongue lolling out ridiculously around her toy even as she nosed towards his face. She really was crazy cute.

It was nice that his family was happy because he was happy, he decided. That was normal. That was how it was supposed to be. Being watched so closely for his reactions reminded him a little of— well— but that was different. They weren't looking for— a performance, or compliance, or a 'thank you' that he didn't mean.

Tony would've been sad if he didn't want the dog, probably, but he wouldn't have insisted that she was staying because Peter really did like her and just needed time to figure that out. That was a difference, just like Tony's brown eyes and the careful distance he kept between them, and it was a difference that mattered.

Tony cleared his throat.

"What are you gonna name her?" he asked, shifting his weight in an awkward fidget. "I know you're not going to leave the poor gal stuck with Eunice."

Peter scratched her ears as he gave it some thought, and smiled.

"Leia," he said. Maybe tonight she could lay with him on the couch and he could introduce her to her namesake.

"A classic," Tony said.

Peter gave her ears one last ruffle before he stood, playfully wrestling the squeaky bone away from her to give it another throw. He stood with Tony as she raced off again, and before she'd made her turn to come back, he said, "Thank you."

'Of course, baby,' Tony would have said in the tower, or even here a year and half ago, if their parents had been away. And he would have pressed for a kiss, sweetened by Peter's gratitude.

"No problem, kid," Tony said, and they stood together quietly in the fresh spring chill, watching as Leia filled the yard with tracks of uncomplicated joy.