Dinners at Tony's was a regular occurrence even before the snap. Of course, there was the (more than) occasional late-night lab session pizza delivery or the Chinese takeout for movie nights starting at ten PM, but then there were the less disorganized dinners: the dinners when Tony, Pepper, and Peter would actually be sitting around a table and talking until it was too dark to even see the trees outside.

So dinner after the snap was normal.

But seeing the amount of people that showed up at Tony's doorstep was something Peter wasn't quite prepared for.

Which was why he blinked at the girl standing in the doorway in front of him.

"Finally!" the girl said, pushing past Peter. "I've been standing at the door for hours!"

"Who…?" Peter started to ask, but before he could bring himself to say anything else, he heard someone clear a throat from the doorway.

Peter turned around to find a familiar dark-haired man standing behind him. He only briefly remembered encountering the king of Wakanda for only a few minutes—and in the fray of a mission, too—but it was enough for Peter to exclaim, "I know you!"

"We met," the king replied, nodding once at Peter. Then, over Peter's shoulder, the man called out, "Shuri! Don't be rude!"

The girl—Shuri—turned around and sighed. "Fine," she grumbled, righting herself in front of Peter. "You're the spider boy." The king cleared his throat, but Shuri waved a dismissive hand at him. "Did you make the suit yourself?"

Peter looked over at the king, who only shook his head wearily. "Um," he started, looking back at Shuri, "Mr. Stark actually made it. I mean, he and I are planning to work on some updates, but—I mean, I made a suit myself before, but it wasn't as nearly as good." He paused and stuck out his hand. "I'm Peter, by the way—Spider-Man, not Spider-Boy."

Shuri only looked down at Peter's hand and smiled, perhaps the first actual smile that Peter had seen her wear. She placed her hands on her hips and looking Peter up and down, she asked, "Spider-Man? How old are you?"

"I should be twenty," Peter mumbled.

"Fifteen, then," Shuri said. Her smile widened. "I should be twenty-one."

Peter blinked. "You got dusted, too?"

Shuri shrugged her shoulders. "Don't remember much of it, but yes." She turned her head to the king. "Now can we go? I am starving." Without waiting for either Peter or the king to say anything, Shuri walked right through the house as though she had been living here her entire life. She made her way directly to the sliding doors at the back and with a soft open and close of the glass, she was gone.

The king cleared his throat again. "I apologize for my sister," he said, clasping his hands behind his back. "She's excited to be here."

"That's fine," Peter said quickly. He pressed his lips together and after a pause, he said, "Anyways, I'm Peter. Parker." He jutted out his hand again, and to his relief, the king actually took it. "Spider-Man."

"T'Challa," the king replied, and he smiled this time—the same smile that Shuri wore from before. "I believe more of our friends are coming."

Peter blinked. "More?" he asked before the front door swung open again, this time with a jumble of semi-familiar faces tumbling through the door.

"Nat, you can't have ice cream before dinner," an all-too familiar muscular, blond man said, snatching an ice cream sandwich out of a redheaded woman's hand.

"We saved the world—I'm allowed to do what I want," Natasha replied loftily, plucking the sandwich right out of Steve's hand. "Want one, Wanda?" Without waiting for an answer, Natasha reached into the red cardboard box she was carrying and tossed a parchment-wrapped sandwich over her shoulder. Before Peter or T'Challa could react, delicate wisps and strands of red energy curled around the ice cream and floated into a brunette's hands.

"C'mon," Steve complained, but the smile he shot Natasha dispelled any signs of actual annoyance. Turning over his shoulder, he shouted, "How're you guys holding up?"

Guys? Peter only had time to think before he heard a loud hiss of air. That somehow managed to get his voice back. "What…?"

And then he heard a very distinct, very shrill cry: "Bouncy castle!"

Followed by: "Wait, kid—what's her name again?"

"Morgan, wait!"

Steve smiled and turned back around. Only then did he seem to actually register that Peter and T'Challa were standing in the foyer. "'Evening, folks," he said cheerfully, nodding at the two of them. "Where's Tony?"

"Out in the back," Peter managed.

"Great." Steve patted Peter once on the back, and Peter resisted the urge to sink into the floor. He watched Steve and T'Challa walk towards the back doors and only just registered that Captain America and the Black Panther were actually standing in the foyer just a minute ago.

"Ice cream sandwich?" Natasha asked, sticking out the red box.

"Um…sure?" Peter squeaked, withdrawing a sandwich. "What's going on out there?"

"Bucky and Sam just set up the bouncy castle," Natasha replied, nodding her head towards the front of the house. "Bruce and Clint are going to get the zipline hooked up."

"The what—"

Before Peter could finish his sentence, a grass-stained Morgan came sprinting through the front door. "Peter!" she cried, wrapping her arms around Peter's leg. "You're base!"

"Base…?" Peter didn't get to finish as a metal-armed man came barreling through the door. "Oh," he said, quickly backing away as Bucky's eyes landed on Morgan.

"Base!" Morgan shouted gleefully. "Can't tag me out!"

"You're not allowed to use people as bases!" Bucky protested.

"Yes, I am!"

"That's cheating!"

Wanda cleared her throat. "How's the bouncy castle?"

Bucky waved his hand. "Sam's got it."

Just as those words left Bucky's mouth, a loud cry came from the front of the house. "Bucky! Get your ass back here!"

Wanda smirked at Bucky. "Sam's got it?"

Bucky paused. "Fine. Give me a second." As he left, he shot his fingers at Morgan in fake intimidation, which of course just made Morgan giggle and wind herself tighter around Peter's leg. She looked up at Peter with a smile and then, her eyes skirting down to Peter's hand, she informed him sagely, "Your ice cream sandwich is gonna melt."

"Huh?" Peter blinked, and looking down at his hand, he nodded absent-mindedly, "Yeah, right…" He slowly unwrapped it and passed it down to Morgan. "Want it instead?"

"Before dinner?" Morgan gasped.

"Yeah, sure," Peter replied.

Morgan grinned, taking the ice cream sandwich. "You're my favorite," she said in a not-too-loud whisper.

"Traitor," both Wanda and Natasha said from the background, but Morgan only giggled and sped away, ice cream sandwich clutched in her hand. Peter watched her go off in a whirlwind of color and dust, and he faintly noted, "I really hope Mr. Stark doesn't get mad at me for that."

"Nah, he won't care," Natasha said. She re-adjusted her grip on the box of ice cream sandwiches and asked, "You coming to the back?" Peter felt himself nod before he followed Natasha and Wanda out of the sliding doors. The smell of grilled meat instantly swept up to greet him, followed by the faint commotion of music, clattering dishes, clinking glasses, and laughter.

"There he is," Tony said, looking up from the grill. "I was wondering what was taking you so long."

"He got stampeded," Natasha said, throwing the box of ice cream sandwiches into the cooler.

"I—no," Peter started to protest, but the others were laughing too hard to notice. Feeling heat creep up to his face, Peter found Tony, who only smiled and rolled his eyes in Steve's direction. Something in Peter's chest settled, and he let out the first breath in what felt like forever.

"You wanna help me out with some of this stuff, kid?" Tony asked, gesturing towards the grill. "C'mon—you gotta learn this at some point or another."

"Not going to work Peter too hard, are you, Tony?" Pepper called from the table. She was dabbing the vanilla ice cream away from Morgan's lips with a napkin. Morgan conspiratorially waved the ice cream sandwich in Peter's direction. "Remember, this was your idea."

"Of course not," Tony said and turning to Peter, he added, "But if you do better than me, I'm going to make you handle the grill all the time."

"Better burn some things, then, Peter," Steve called from the back.

"I can help with that," Wanda offered.

This time, Peter found himself laughing along with everyone else, and as Tony passed a spatula and a red apron (with Kiss the Cook emblazoned on the fabric), a different kind of warmth spread up to Peter's face. He looked around the backyard, the lake, the number of people lounging on picnic tables.

"Whatchya looking at?" Tony asked, keeping his eye on the grill.

Peter turned back around. "Nothing," he said quickly. When Tony cast him a side-glance look, Peter amended, "It's just…a lot of people, Mr. Stark. A lot of people. Not that it's a problem—I've been to parties before…once." He added reluctantly at Tony's incredulous expression. "This is just a little different." He lowered his voice. "And I don't know why they're all here."

Tony suddenly became much more intent on flipping burgers. "You'll see," he said. Before Peter could ask what that was supposed to mean, Tony waved a hand towards the grill. "C'mon, don't actually burn these guys now."

"Yes, sir."

When the sun had gone down and the food eaten and the bouncy castle bounced to exhaustion and the zipline (which even Bruce could ride in his Hulk form) had been tested and tried over and over again, Tony excused himself to go to the house. "Don't need sunglasses anymore," he said, waving them in the air, which got a rousing cheer from everyone. "Yeah, yeah, look at me being social."

And looking back, Peter supposed he should have been suspicious as soon as Pepper retreated to the house, too ("let me go check if we've got more candles"), but he was too busy playing Monkey in the Middle with Wanda and Morgan. (Peter and Morgan both agreed to have Wanda as one of the throwers rather than the Monkey, because Wanda kept 'accidentally' plucking the ball from midair.)

So when everyone went silent, Peter didn't really know what to expect.

"Why did it get quiet?" he asked in a stage whisper, which got a few laughs, but then he looked up through the sliding glass doors and made out Tony and Pepper and—

"Aunt May?" Peter asked aloud, confused. And then he noticed the cake in their hands, and a lump rose in Peter's throat as Tony lit a row of candles at the top.

The silence from before grew into a hum around Peter, and then, when Peter blinked, he finally registered that the hum had turned into singing, and the singing was to a song that brought Peter back to the ground, back to this moment with Tony, Pepper, and May singing "happy birthday, dear Peter" as the three made their way towards him.

Peter looked up, his throat squeezing at May and Pepper's gentle smiles, and then at Tony's wink.

"Happy birthday, kid," Tony said.

"But it's not…"

"We figured we'd celebrate your technical birthdays," Pepper said. "Tony's phrase, not mine," she added as Peter lifted his eyebrows.

When Peter looked over at Tony, he cleared his throat and said, "It's hard to celebrate birthdays when the birthday boy isn't around." He cleared his throat again as a series of coos went up from the people sitting at the benches. Peter couldn't hold back his own smile as Tony flitted his eyes back to him. "Save me," Tony muttered. "C'mon, kid, blow out the candles before the breeze does it for you."

Peter obliged with a wider grin. He closed his eyes, and just before blowing out the candles, he considered making a wish. When he was a little kid, he had made so many: wishes for toys, then wishes for his parents back, then wishes for Uncle Ben back, then wishes just for a family or friends back.

Peter cracked open his eyes and looked up at Tony, Pepper, and May—then at the numerous people sitting behind them. At Steve, who was holding up a phone and obviously recording the whole thing; at Natasha, who was furtively passing Morgan more watermelon; at Bruce, who was watching Natasha and Morgan with a funny look on his face; at Sam and Bucky, who were both elbowing each other every so often; at Clint, who was pretending to snore (but grinned at Peter from afar); at T'Challa, who looked back at Peter with a gentle smile, and, of course, at Shuri, who mouthed, 'Spider-Boy'.

Peter decided he didn't need to make a wish.

He blew out the candles and let the cheers and clapping wash over him.

"What'd you wish for?" Tony asked as Pepper took the cake to cut it. His voice was quiet, barely audible to none other than probably Peter and Tony.

"Didn't need to make one," Peter replied, watching the crowd of new friends and family come towards him. He looked over at Tony. "You think I'll still be safe from the whole don't-tell-your-birthday-wish superstition?"

Peter heard Tony laugh and then say quietly, "I think you're safe, kid."

A/N: This was for prompt #10 of the Irondad 1000 Feelings blog on tumblr: the excitement of new friends. I know Peter Parker's actual birthday is in August, but I felt the need to write something like this because yes, let's celebrate all the missed birthdays. Also, I just really love the idea of Peter being totally floored by the fact that he has so many new friends and family members backing him up (even if he technically kinda met all of them at one point or another).

As always, constructive criticism/comments are appreciated!