The One Where Peter is Beautiful and Tony is Kind of Beastly

Chapter 1 Chapter Text

Tony Stark threw back the last of the single malt whiskey in the tumbler – a shame, but he was needed on stage.

He strutted with total confidence to the centre of the stage, the spotlight following him as he walked. He winked at the attractive, scantily clad women that had been dancing on stage during his intro. Cheesy maybe, but entertaining. Just what was expected of the playboy, billionaire owner of the world’s most cutting-edge technology company, and top weapons manufacturer to boot.

Amid the cheering of the crowd beyond, he heard the snapping of cameras from the press corp by the stage, his eyes quickly adjusting to the flashes bathing him in bursts of light. He held position for an extra couple of seconds to make sure they all had their shots before raising his hands for quiet. He gave his trademark smirk when they immediately followed his silent instruction. He could practically feel the room leaning forward to hear his announcement.

“You know, people ask me- ‘Mr Stark, do you think the world is a safe place?’.” He started, everyone hanging on his every word.

“I say ‘yes. And you know how I know that? Cause I’m the one who made it that way.’”.

The gathered crowd erupted in applause and cheers.

“I say it’s not about having the biggest guns. It’s about having the smartest. That’s why Stark Tech Gen 5 is debuting the Freedom line, which includes my piece de la resistance: the Jericho missile. Not only will it hit whatever enemy it is aimed at, but you can customise the fall out. Need to knock out the building between a church and a kindergarten? It can do that. Want the last step before nuclear winter? It has that too.”

Tony continued, his audience in raptures at what he was saying.

“But smart defence isn’t just about guns anymore. It is about how you communicate, how you forecast, the tools you have in the Situation Room, not just the weapons on the ground. These tools keep us safe, but they can also keep us connected. I am bringing those advancements to you, the people, with Stark Phone X and Stark Glass.” As he spoke, two holographs of the sleek new phone and glasses, based on his own iconic pair, appeared on either side of him.

Again the crowd went wild and Tony let a confident smirk tug the corner of his lip up. Wait until they found out all the features he had pumped in to these gadgets.

Tony spent the next five minutes boasting of all the capabilities of these new machines, which included the brand-new-to-market HUD display of Stark Glass. Facial recognition software did not come as advanced as this outside of top tier law enforcement. He had made the world of information available upon command, from people’s social media (admittedly worthless) and local restaurant reviews to directions and photography. And body cams? Try a 360 degree visual and audio experience of any crime before, during and after it happened.

His competition would be weeping tomorrow morning.

At Pepper’s suggested (see: constant, intrusive nagging), a Q&A session was scheduled to wrap up the presentation.

He should have known better than to invite Christine Everhart. He certainly should have known better than to let her throw him a question.

“Mr Stark, you’ve been called the Merchant of Death. You say these ‘advancements’ will keep us safe, but how do you make sure they stay in the right hands?” She said challengingly.

“Christine, I provide our troops with the best. Making sure they hold on to them is kind of their job.” He replied with a sarcastic grin.

“But would you not call the widespread distribution of tools with unprecedented ability to be intrusive, if not downright destructive, at the very least unethical?”

“I trust the consumer. I also trust our law enforcement authorities to handle any less-than-savoury business that may indirectly involve any Stark Tech.”

“What, are you going to provide them with the ‘tools’ to identify fraud, breaches of privacy and civil liberties, or rogue missiles? Soon you could be financing both sides of the cops and robbers game.” She asked coolly.

He heard the titters in the crowd.

“You can’t stop progress because of fear.” He shot back.

Christine went to ask another question, but the roving mic had moved on. Her intent, icy gaze continued to scrutinise him though, making him feel uncharacteristically apprehensive.

Once the presentation was over and Tony had dodged Pepper’s debrief, he went about finding one of the lovely dancing girls. He told Happy to go wait by the car. As he slipped down the corridor he thought led to the girls’ dressing room, Christine stepped out of the shadows to bar his way.

“Security breach! I don’t think the long arm of Vanity Fair reaches into the back corridors of a secured area Christine.” Tony informed her.

She did not spit a witty retort back, as was their norm. Instead, she stared assessing at Tony.

“You arrogant son of a bitch.”

“True. But are you referring to something in particular?”

“You wash your hands of the responsibility of harm that might come from your technological advancements. You treat the people around you like cogs in a machine.” She accused.

“If someone wraps their car around a tree, do you blame the manufacturer or the idiot going thirty above the speed limit, wasted on cheap beer and whiskey shots?”

“You blame the bartender that pressed the alcohol into their hands promising it was water, who put them behind the wheel of a car with no speedometer, headlights or brakes.”

“Wait, I’m the car manufacturer and the bartender in this scenario? Or is that society? I can never keep up with the metaphors of you Brown alum.”

“Did you even consider an impact study or an ethics board for your new products? Did you even consider what Stark Glass will actually be used for?”

“Sweetheart I pay people to do that. I’m just the lowly technician, sitting in his lab all day, revolutionising the technology world.”

“That sounds about right. Instead of connecting with the rest of humanity, you choose instead to immerse yourself in a world of machines and science. Your heart is as cold and hard as the weapons you create.”

Tony scoffed lightly, trying not to give away how off-put he was by their confrontation.

“Those machines and science honey? They paved the road to the modern world. To security, healthcare, transport, all the way down to those little machines you sell your subscriptions on. Hate the game, not the player.”

Tony stepped around Christine to walk away but felt a sudden sharp pain go through his chest as though for a brief second, he had been skewered by an icicle. He gasped and braced himself against the wall of the corridor to keep from falling over.

“Humility, selflessness and empathy – these words mean nothing to you. You need to change your ways Stark and learn to truly value people.” Christine stalked around him to face him once more.

“You have seven years. Without your name, without your legacy, to connect with someone. Learn how to truly love and respect another and have them love you in return. If that does not change you, nothing will.”

Without another word of explanation for her strange declaration, Christine spun on her heel and walked away.

Tony still felt weak and pulled out his phone to call Happy to come help him to the car.

How unnerving.

*******************************************************

Tony had refused to let Happy call a doctor, claiming it was probably just a combination of exhaustion and being slightly drunk that caused his disorientation. To be honest, this would not be the first time he hallucinated when he was really out of it… Tony conveniently ignored the fact that he was relatively well-rested and had felt fighting fit before Christine’s sudden monologue.

As he lay in his huge four poster bed he could still feel the cold resonating in his chest. If anything, it was getting worse. Maybe he should call that doctor? He was far from an old man, but he had not led the healthiest lifestyle, maybe something could really be the matter with his heart?

Just as he resolved to call someone to the house, a sudden spasm of pain wracked his chest, causing him to clutch his heart and curl in on himself.

“Jarvis…” he said weakly.

No voice answered.

The cold had spread throughout his entire body now.

No, it was in the room. He was breathing steam.

It had been a warm early-fall night.

Something was wrong with the house.

Something was wrong with him.

Another sharp bolt of pain shot through him, causing him to cry out. Just before he passed out, he thought he heard another distant shout from somewhere in the house. And then he knew no more.

Chapter 2: Chapter two

Chapter Text

Peter woke slowly to the ringing bell of his alarm. It took three attempts to hit the ‘off’ button but soon after Peter dragged himself groggily from his bed to the small bathroom down the corridor.

One of the few benefits of his work schedule being so unusual was that it rarely clashed with his Aunt May’s, meaning he usually had free range of the bathroom to shower before work.

Four hours of sleep were not enough, but he couldn’t turn down an extra shift at the small electronics store he worked at during the day. The money was not as good as the night shift at the gas station, but it was closer suited to his interests. When customers ebbed, Mr Harrington would invite him to his workshop in the back where he did basic repairs. It was a far cry from the engineering degree he had been hoping to enrol in now he was finished with high school, but beggars could not be choosers.

That was the way things worked in his small town – the electronics shop was the only one for miles around, pulling triple duty as a computer repair shop and basic re-wiring and maintenance service for bric a brac like lamps and old school radios.

It was located next to the pharmacy and the barbershop – both also being the only shops of their like in town. May worked just down the street at the library that also served as the internet café.

Once you fell into a job here, it was almost impossible to get out. That’s why most people left right after graduation, off to college or just moving to a new city so they could get a job and an identity that wasn’t the one they grew up with, like ‘that poor Parker kid, the one whose parents died’.

The leisure activities were more diverse elsewhere too. Here, there were approximately two options for anyone 18-25 still in town: (A) have children or (B) engage in lots of sex and recreational drug use.

That was not exactly fair… there were a few people like him that did not really do anything except work. But it seemed inevitable that you would be worn down to fit in to one of the options. Peter already saw himself slipping.

It was all just so… small.

Peter heaved a sigh. No use whining about it. Now was the time to work his butt off, save money, make sure May was going to be ok and then decide where he could go in the pursuit of Greatness. Or even just vague happiness.

Peter slung on his backpack and picked up his piece of toast before he left the apartment. It was still twenty minutes until his shift started and it only took about three minutes to walk there, but he could duck out back with his extra time and work on the old Nintendo 64 console that was busted. Mr Harrington had promised him 50% of profits for any of the repaired goods he worked on that they sold second hand.

As Peter approached Main street, he heard his name being called out from across the street.

Speaking of Option B…

Quentin Beck was a very handsome man, perhaps the best-looking single guy in the town. He had immaculately styled dark hair and a short beard. He was well-built, which probably came from owning the tiny gym down the road. He was a charming flirt too, which likely had origins in the bar he owned. And his expensive clothes one could credit to the profits from his tenants in the salon, florist/grocer, hardware store and other various properties in town.

The Becks had owned half the town for as long as Peter had known. Their son had always been very popular and was certainly not shy about playing up his local celebrity status.

“How you been?” he stopped in front of Peter with a pleasant smile.

“Good thanks Mr Beck. How about you?” Peter replied politely, his eyes flicking slightly nervously around for anyone listening in on their conversation. In this town, someone was always listening in.

“Good, good.” The man stepped closer, dropping his voice lower. “When are you gonna come over again?”

Peter felt flushed and anxious. He swallowed nervously.

He had not meant to start anything with the older man, truly. But he was lonely with his only friend Ned having left for college, and being a nineteen year old virgin… well, when Quentin Beck came in to the electronics store and flirted with Peter, he was so flattered. The older man had not seemed put off by his bumbling or red face. If anything, he seemed more charmed by it. So when he invited Peter in for a free drink at the bar that Friday night, one of his few free nights, Peter had gone. One thing led to another…

Peter coughed. “Ah… I dunno.” He mumbled. “You know, I work a lot…”

Though true, it was still a fairly pitiful excuse. It’s not that he hadn’t had a good time with Mr Beck – Quentin – in fact, he had had a really good time. It was just that something felt… not right. Not wrong per say, and certainly not wrong enough to stop him from spending another three nights with the man…

“Peter, you know you have a standing offer for a job at the bar, just say the word. We’ll get to spend more time together, plus being at that gas station all alone, all night… it’s dangerous baby.” He dropped his voice to a whisper.

Peter blushed even deeper. It was a very sweet offer, but exactly what Peter didn’t want – strings. That’s what happened to people in this town. Family, job, house, boyfriend…. Even if you had dreams of seeing the world, this place had a way of slipping strings around your wrists and before you knew it, you were too weighed down to ever take flight.

And working for the older man you were sleeping with… not a sound investment in your own future.

“That’s really nice Mr Beck, really… but I’m lucky to have the jobs I have. I don’t want to let Mr Dell down.” Peter said, stepping back ever so slightly and tugging nervously on his backpack straps. People were bound to start talking the longer and more often they were seen together. Though he usually told his Aunt almost everything, he did not want her to know about Beck.

Beck stepped forward, closing the gap that Peter had created.

“Come over tonight. I know you’re not working. I’ll cook dinner, light a fire…” Peter saw Beck’s hand move toward him, as if to run his fingers along Peter’s arm.

Peter took two hasty steps back. “Um, sure. Yeah.” He said, smiling shyly. For all his hang-ups and as much as he did not want the rumour swirling around town that the Parker boy was taking up with the rich bachelor, he was flattered by his attentions. Something about a man as confident and self-possessed as Quentin Beck taking an interest in Peter was secretly thrilling.

“Good. Now get along before I kiss you here in front of everyone.” Came the playful threat, causing Peter to squeak slightly and turn to walk quickly to Mr Harrington’s.

Chapter 3: Chapter three

Chapter Text

Later that evening Peter fiddled with his old flip phone. Though the back casing was held together with duct tape, it still functioned well enough to be able to call Beck and cancel their plans tonight.

Peter had been agonising over the decision for hours. He knew what would happen when he went there tonight.

They would have dinner, something more expensive and gourmet than he and May ever had. Beck would be charming and Peter would be a mess of nerves as he tried to avoid being boring or seem immature in front of the man. Beck would kindly laugh at his lame jokes and Peter would soak in all the stories of his travels and interesting things he had done out there in the world.

Peter would be half-hard under the table, waiting for the next part. Beck would kiss him and then Peter would be gone.

So he should call Beck now, tell him something came up or his was sick.

Or maybe he should go and tell Beck that he wasn’t looking for a relationship or casual sex. Peter suspected he was not built for a casual ‘with benefits’ relationship anyway.

That was the mature thing to do, right? Be honest and upfront with the person you were sleeping with?

So, Peter donned his second-best shirt and went.

They had dinner and Peter stumbled through his semi-rehearsed speech about how they should stop, that Peter would still like to be friends but the sex part was confusing things and not something that Peter had room for in his life right now.

So how did he end up pinned against the wall of Beck’s hallway, moaning desperately while Beck’s large hands squeezed his arse and his beard left a scratchy trail on his neck?

It happened this way every time. Something about Beck’s large, strong, male hands on his body got Peter frantic. He would cling helplessly to the larger man and barely be able to string two words together from the onslaught of sensation.

“Peter… f*ck you’re such a sexy little thing…” Beck hoisted Peter up to wrap his legs around his waist, carrying him to the bedroom.

Beck dropped him on the bed on his back, quickly stripping himself of his shirt and pants where he stood over Peter.

Peter’s shirt had been lost in the hallway and his hands were trembling, making the fastening of his belt seem unconquerably complicated.

“Here baby, let me…” Beck said, leaning over to undo Peter’s pants and yank them roughly down his legs and throw them across the room.

“So hard for me…” Beck crooned, climbing on top of Peter and sticking his tongue down his throat. Peter whimpered at the sensation, pulling the man down to rest more of his weight on Peter’s smaller body.

“You love this don’t you? Want me in you so bad. You play all hard to get and innocent during the day, but I get you in my bed at night and you’re gagging for it. Such a little slu*t.” Beck whispered harshly in Peter’s ear, running a hand down his chest to pinch his nipple and letting Peter’s wet co*ckhead leave a trail of precum across his hard abdomen.

“Mmmmm… ah!” Peter vocalised roughly. Beck’s words would make him blush something fierce tomorrow when he thought about them, but right now they liquified his brain and threatened to make him come right here before he’d even really been touched.

“Turn over, I want you on your hands and knees.” Beck ordered hotly, abruptly pulling back causing Peter to whine pathetically. He moved clumsily, earning himself a sharp slap on his arse from Beck, who already had the lube and condom out on the bed spread.

“Show me that hole.” He said roughly, a hand on the back of Peter’s neck forcing him to bend further forward, presenting himself obscenely to Beck’s view.

“f*ck.” Beck cursed, quickly slicking up his fingers before pushing one into Peter roughly.

Peter let out a high moan, clenching on the digit. This was why he kept coming back, why he didn’t say no when Beck ran a hand up his thigh or drew him on to his lap. The feeling of being filled, Beck’s rough voice as he talked about how hot Peter was, how good a f*ck he was… he could not recreate the feeling himself.

“Beck… nnghh… please…” he heard himself begging.

“You want more? I’ll give you more.” Beck said, pushing a second finger into him and scissoring Peter open.

Peter let out a broken moan, feeling his co*ck leaking on the sheets. It was rough, almost on the border of too rough, but Beck never pushed passed that. The ache was part of the pleasure.

“Look at your slu*tty little hole taking my fingers… f*ck Peter, you were made for this. f*cking sell tickets to this hole and make a fortune, you know what men would pay to feel your hot little arse milking them?” Beck asked dirtily.

Peter hid his bright red face in the pillow. He felt tears pricking at his eyes, the stretch plus the onslaught of feelings caused by Beck’s words overwhelming.

Beck pushed a third finger in. As Peter took a shaky breath, trying to adjust to the intrusion, Beck crooked his fingers to brush over his prostate.

“Ahhhhh!” Peter wailed, his body jolting at the sharp pleasure Beck caused.

“There is it, my boy’s little button. You like me touching that?” Beck asked.

Peter was panting now, little whimpers and moans mixed in.

“I said, do you like that?” Beck asked again, his digits cruelly nailing Peter’s sensitive prostate again.

“Yes! Yesss, please…” Peter almost sobbed.

Beck cursed again, his hand disappearing while Peter heard the click of the lube as Beck slicked himself up.

Peter gathered the pillow in tight fists and when the blunt head of Beck’s co*ck pressed against his rim, he bit down on the pillow to stop the worst of the sounds coming out.

The stretch was so much at first, the sting bringing more tears to his eyes. Beck did not move slowly, pushing into him smoothly then stopping to let Peter adjust.

“f*ck I love this part. When you’re tightest and trying to push me out. But you want it baby, don’t you? Gagging for my co*ck…” Beck bent over, his chest plastered across Peter’s back as he ran the lube slick hand through Peter’s hair and clasped his hip with the other.

“I gave you what you wanted. Say ‘thank you’ Peter.” Beck demanded, his voice gravelly.

Peter stopped biting the pillow, taking two hitching breaths.

“Th-thank you.” He whispered, feeling his channel clench around Beck’s erection as he adjusted to being full.

“You’re welcome baby. You want me to move now?” Beck asked, his tone warmer.

Peter whimpered slightly. He secretly loved when Beck turned sweet. The dirty words were thrilling, but nothing made him feel as warm as the sweet words, when he was asking after Peter’s comfort and pleasure as he held off his own urges to make sure Peter was enjoying himself.

Peter breathed through a few more beats, and once the pain had faded to a dull ache, he gave a shaky nod. “Yes, please.” He whispered.

Beck pulled himself back, both hands in place on Peter’s raised hips.

He gave a few shallow thrusts to start, still enough to pull a noise from Peter. It was not long before Beck found his rhythm, pumping quickly into Peter.

“You like that? Let me hear you baby.” Beck urged, his hands tight on Peter’s hips.

Peter was so used to muffling his noises at home, it often took Beck reminding him that he wanted to hear Peter moan, hear all his whimpers and cries.

“Now beg for it, tell me how much you want it.” Beck demanded roughly, his pace picking up.

“Please… I want it so bad… Beck, please…mmhmmm,” Peter moaned. “I’m close…”

Beck groaned deeply, his hips pistoning now, harder and faster.

Peter was gasping with every breath, slipping a hand down to touch himself. Two hard strokes was all it took for him to come, crying out desperately as the waves of pleasure rocked him.

“Peter! f*ck, f*ck…” Beck gritted out, pounding erratically into Peter’s tightening channel before losing it himself, burying himself in full so his hips were grinding against Peter’s bottom as he released.

Both were panting heavily as they came down, Beck plastering himself over Peter’s overheated body to bite and lick at the back of his neck.

Eventually he pulled out, tossing the used condom away. He lay next to Peter and pulled the younger man across his chest with a possessive arm wrapped around his shoulders.

“That was amazing. We’re so good together…” Beck said into Peter’s hair.

Guilt broke through Peter’s afterglow. Was he not clear with Beck earlier? He supposed breaking up with someone then immediately sleeping with them did send a rather mixed message. He bit his lip, thinking it was too awkward to reiterate his earlier sentiments now, when they were still covered in sweat and come.

After half an hour or so, Peter went to stand up, his sore backside protesting the movement.

“No baby, don’t go. Sleep here with me. I’ll cook you breakfast and we can have another go in the morning…” Beck tried to coax Peter back to bed.

Peter smile apologetically as he gathered his clothes. “I’m sorry, I can’t. I need to get home before Aunt May starts to worry.” He said, moving quickly to the ensuite before Beck could further protest. A quick splash was the best he could do, he would have to shower as soon as he got home.

He emerged dressed but for his shirt. Beck was still stretched across the bed luxuriously, not an ounce of self-consciousness about his naked state.

“Seriously Pete, stay. You can sneak back before sunrise, she’ll never know.” Beck implored.

“I’m sorry.” Peter apologised again with a shake of his head. After an awkward beat, Peter said, “I’ll lock the door behind me. Um… see you around? Thanks for dinner.” He added.

With an awkward wave (why did he wave?!) he slipped out of the bedroom, hurriedly donning his shirt and slipping on his shoes at the door, not bothering with the laces until he was free of Beck’s house.

As Peter set off on the short walk home (everything in town was a short walk), he thought about the messy situation he had created.

Being with Beck felt so amazing in the moment. Unlike anything he had experienced before. But after… he felt cold. Embarrassed. It was not that he regretted what they did together, but… good sex wasn’t enough. He felt unequal to the other man, like a kid Beck was indulging, or worse, a fan.

Peter was well-versed in awkward interactions, his adolescence full of them. But surely after five times being together, he should be growing more comfortable rather than less? Or at least, the nerves should be like pleasant butterflies, excited to be around Beck – not dread that he was going to make a fool of himself sitting heavy in his stomach.

Peter sighed, trudging up the staircase to his and May’s apartment. It was rather run down. He and May had moved here after Uncle Ben died. The expense of his medical and funeral bills had meant this was the best they could afford and still eat. That is why he worked two jobs as well as tutoring on the side, and why May worked as hard as she did. They were both determined to give the other a better home.

“Hey Peter! You’re home late.” May was still up, watching a black and white movie on the small TV in the tiny lounge room.

“Oh, am I? I guess.” Peter said. He cringed internally, knowing he was a bad liar. “Umm, I almost have that Nintendo working at Mr Harrington’s!” he piped almost shrilly, an obvious change of topic.

May looked at him shrewdly, a smile showing that she saw through his not-so-slick diversion.

“Good. Is the Nintendo why you’re creeping back at 11:30? And why your hair is a mess? And why you missed a button when you put your shirt on?”

Peter’s eyes widened as he quickly looked down to check his shirt. Slightly crumpled, but correctly buttoned.

“Ha! Made you look. Well, I’m glad you are getting somewhere with your Nintendo. Whatever makes you happy. So long as you’re playing the game in safe mode.” May quipped. Peter blushed to the roots of his hair and quickly made his way to the bathroom.

“Oh and if Super Mario continues to level-up, I’m gonna need to meet him!” May called after him before he had a chance to shut the door.

Just perfect.

Chapter 4: Chapter four

Chapter Text

“Ok I left lasagne in the fridge, but when that proves inedible, I left money for pizza on the bench. Use it, I don’t want you dipping into your college fund ok kiddo?” May said as Peter loaded her bag into the boot of their old beat-up Nissan.

“You didn’t have to cook me dinner! But I’m sure it’ll be great.” Peter said, wrapping May in a tight hug.

“You’re welcome honey. I’ll call you when I get to the hotel ok?” she said, ruffling his hair affectionately before she stepped around to the driver’s seat.

“Yep. Drive safe.” Peter urged, stepping back and watching her drive off with a final wave.

May would be gone for three days at some library training in one of the bigger cities nearby. While not glamourous, three nights in a hotel and all meals paid for by the town council could prove some fun – especially in a city with actual restaurants and night life!

Though most boys his age would be happy to have an apartment to themselves for three days, Peter was not looking forward to it. He was used to spending time alone, but the warm, comforting presence of May at home, even when it was just the silly notes she left when their shifts prevented them from seeing each other that day, made Peter feel better.

Luckily, he had plenty of work over the next couple of days. He had to leave for tutoring in about fifteen minutes, then a quick break for dinner before a long shift at the gas station – he should be suitably occupied.

******************************************

Peter leaned on the counter, fiddling with his phone in his hands. It was getting close to midnight and May should have called hours ago. He had called and texted her but received no response. His gut was roiling with worry.

As he considered whether he should call a police station or hospitals in the county to see if any motor accidents had been reported, his phone rang.

Peter did not even bother to look at the caller ID before he quickly flipped it open.

“May?!” he answered anxiously.

“No, Quentin.” Came the response.

Peter sighed loudly, his disappointment sharp. Even if she had an issue with her phone or car problems, she knew Peter’s number by heart and would have found a way to let him know by now…

“Disappointed?” Beck quipped, his voice still holding an air of confidence.

“Oh shoot, sorry. No I’m not disappointed, it’s just… I’m at work and waiting for a call from May.” Peter replied.

“Pretty late to be getting a call from your Aunt.” Beck commented.

“She’s out of town. She left this afternoon and she should have arrived hours ago.”

“Pete, she’s a grown woman. I’m sure she just got caught up and forgot to call you before going to bed.” Beck dismissed.

“No, she wouldn’t do that. Plus she hasn’t responded to any of my texts.” Peter insisted.

“Then her phone probably died.”

“Maybe…” Peter said, still highly doubtful.

“Does that mean you’re home alone this week?” Beck purred.

Peter shifted awkwardly where he stood. He had been dreading having this conversation with Beck – again. And he really did not want to do it now over the phone when May could call any minute…

“Um… Yeah. But… I mean, when we talked the other night… was, was I clear? Just about, you know, not really wanting to be in a relationship right now?” Peter asked meekly, wanting to bury himself in a hole he felt so awkward.

“Don’t worry Peter. I totally get it. You’re a hot young thing, you don’t want to be tied down with an old guy like me.” Beck teased.

“No! It, it’s not that…” Peter fumbled.

“Relax I’m kidding. I get it. We can still be friends though right?”

“Yeah.” Peter assured, relieved.

“And friends can have dinner, right?”

“Sure, I guess...”

“So come over for dinner tomorrow night.”

Peter frowned. He had gone over for ‘just dinner’ the other night and look where that had ended. He had walked with a limp the entire next day.

“Ummm… I’m working tomorrow night.”

“Hmmmm, alright. Are you busy now? Maybe I can come by and say hello…”

His tone was highly suggestive, and Peter blushed at the implication. Surely he didn’t mean to suggest they have sex at Peter’s workplace? Beck had said he understood Peter’s desire to not create ties with a relationship, but the way he said that left little doubt in Peter’s mind that a visit from Beck would end with Peter on his knees in the back office.

“That’s probably not a good idea. There’s been customers on and off and I want to call around and see if I can get hold of May.” Peter explained nervously.

“Ok. Well call me tomorrow ok? Let me know that you found May and we can talk about what kind of mischief a naughty boy like you should be getting up to with a house all to yourself.” Peter could practically hear Beck’s smirk through the phone.

“Ah, ok. Yeah. Um, bye.” Peter said, hearing the click of the phone as Beck hung up.

Peter tried to shake it off, putting thoughts of Beck to one side so he could think about what to do with May.

He slipped into the back office, firing up the old computer. Technically he was not meant to do that, but Mr Dell’s password was taped to the bottom of the top drawer and it’s not like he was slacking off.

He quickly looked up the number of the hotel May was staying at and the local highway patrol. He jotted them down on a post-it just as the bell sounded for a customer pulling up.

Once they had their gas and cigarettes, Peter pulled his phone out and dialled the hotel.

“Queen’s Inn, how may I help you?”

“Umm hi. My Aunt May Parker is staying there. She hasn’t been answering her phone and I just want to make sure she made it into the city safely. Is she – has she checked in?” he asked.

“I’m sorry sir, we cannot give out information on guests.” Came the polite but cool response.

“Please, I know you’ve got policies around privacy, I just want to know whether or not she’s checked in. Please. My next call is to the police, and I don’t want to bother them if she’s safe in bed.”

The young-sounding woman on the other end of the phone sighed lightly before he heard the clacking of fingers on a keyboard.

“You are correct sir, it is the policy of the Queen’s Inn to not give out any guest information. But seeing as your Aunt has not checked in, I think the rule does not apply.” She said.

Peter felt his heart clench.

She had not made it to the hotel.

“I hope you are able to track her down. I can leave a message at the front desk requesting she call you if she does check-in later tonight?” the girl offered.

Peter struggled to speak. “Ye-“ he coughed, clearing his suddenly tight throat- “Yeah, please get her to call me if she shows up.”

Peter hung up, feeling numb.

He could not lose May.

Not like he had lost Uncle Ben and his parents.

His fingers were shaking as he punched in the number for the highway patrol.

It seemed to take an age for someone to answer and understand what was happening.

The dispatcher said they would send out patrols along the main road and shakily he gave his number so he could be notified if they found May’s car.

Peter hung up, feeling helpless. He did not know what to do next. He did not even have anyone to call. Beck’s face quickly crossed his mind. A friend could call another friend when his closet relative was missing, right?

Or even better – a friend could borrow a friend’s car to look for them.

A half hour later, after calling and explaining the situation to Mr Dell, locking up the station and calling Beck, Peter stood out front of Beck’s house, raising a hand to knock on his door.

Beck answered shirtless, inviting Peter in.

“What’s going on? You called the police about your Aunt?” Beck asked sceptically.

“She never checked in at her hotel. The highway patrol is out looking for her car now. I want to go out and look too, but we don’t have a second car.” Peter explained. He took a breath.

“I was hoping to borrow yours.”

Beck’s eyebrows shot up as the rubbed the back of his neck.

“Peter – man, you’re blowing pretty hot and cold on me here.”

“What?” Peter asked, confused.

“Well we were kind of dating, then you push me back to be ‘just friends’ but now it is ‘close friends that borrow your BMW’. Starting to feel a bit used here Pete.” Beck said, leaning back in his chair. Something about the way he crossed his arms and adopted a wide-eyed look of earnestness did not quite feel right to Peter.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to be all hot and cold.” Peter apologised, feeling awkward and not sure what Beck wanted to hear him say.

“I just really need your help right now.” Peter continued earnestly.

Beck considered for a few long moments while Peter fidgeted in front of him.

“You promise to drive carefully?” Beck asked.

Peter nodded emphatically.

“And you promise that when you get back, after May has called and this all turns out to be nothing, that you’ll come over and we’ll talk about what kind of ‘friends’ we should be?”

Peter nodded again, this time with a touch more reluctance.

Beck seemed satisfied though, heaving himself up to grab the keys off the hall stand and press them into Peter’s hands.

“Careful.” He reminded Peter, before looping an arm around him and pressing Peter against his bare chest in a hug, dropping a kiss on his head.

“Th-thank you Beck.” Peter stuttered, retreating out the door as soon as Beck let him go.

******************************************

The car was immaculately clean, making none of the creaking or groaning sounds May’s old Nissan made. It had heated seats and an expensive-looking sound system, however it remained silent as it waited to be connected to Beck’s phone.

May’s phone.

Of course!

Peter changed directions, turning from the edge of town back to his and May’s apartment. He bounded up the stairs and fired up their computer. It was a very old model Peter had restored, so it still ran quite slow.

Peter paced as he waited for it to boot up and once it did, he opened the provider website May had her phone registered to and logged in with May’s details (her password was always ‘DiCaprio4Me’ or some variation of it from her 90s girlhood crush).

He navigated to the ‘find my phone’ dashboard, clicking activate and waiting while it loaded, the bars filling agonisingly slowly.

A map appeared with a radar, showing the last known location of May’s phone.

It was a road off the highway, ‘Malibu Point’. Peter quickly zoomed out, looking at the surrounding highway markers so he would know the turnoff.

Once he snapped a quick picture with his phone he shot back down to the borrowed car, quickly peeling away from the curb.

It was not til he was twenty minutes out of town that the thought cut through his worry – he needs to tell the police where May’s phone was pinged. He pulled out his phone, quickly darting his eyes down to confirm what he feared. No signal.

“sh*t.” He cursed under his breath. He was not about to turn around to make the call, he would just have to check incrementally to see if he caught a signal.

After an hour he started to slow, the road markers telling him Malibu Point turnoff was close by.

There.

Well-concealed, enough that if you were not looking for it you probably would not see it in the dark, was May’s car. It had skidded off the road and crashed into something Peter couldn’t see.

His heart stopped. He slammed on the breaks, launching himself out of the BMW to race to the driver’s seat.

It was empty. The airbag had been deployed but overall there did not look like a huge amount of damage. May’s purse and phone were gone, suggesting she had been able to walk away from the accident.

Peter heaved a huge sigh of relief, tears pricking his eyes.

She had most likely hiked up the drive looking for a property or a signal for her phone.

Peter rushed back to the car, turning up Malibu Point and driving slowly, looking for any side roads May could have walked down seeking a house. He continued all the way up the drive and saw nothing. Eventually the road started to widen and Peter saw a massive mansion with a grand entrance, fountain and all in front of him. How odd, he had no idea there was estate anything like this so close to his town. It was very private and must have spectacular views of the ocean, situated on a cliff as it was.

May would have found this place. Either she had knocked on the door and the owners had called her an ambulance or given her a lift to town, or she was still there.

He parked right by the front door and bounded up to knock quickly on the wood.

A beep sounded from his right and the front door opened.

No one was there.

How strange. It must be an automatic door, like the gates with intercoms rich people on television had. Except no one had spoken to him or bothered to greet him before letting him walk into the house.

Peter’s good feeling was dissipating quickly.

The entrance way was more like a hotel lobby. Most of the house was shrouded in darkness except for one corridor. Peter walked hesitantly toward the light.

“Hello? Is anyone there? I’m looking for my Aunt, May. That’s her car crashed down by the main road. Hello?” he called but received no response.

It was late, it was possible people were sleeping and he was in fact an intruder that was creeping around uninvited.

But something told him that was not the case.

Peter silenced himself, treading carefully down the lit corridor. He passed what must be a den, the door slightly ajar. He poked his head in and noticed the room was empty. He crept quickly to the fireplace, grabbing a poker as a weapon should he find May in trouble and need to defend her.

At the end of the corridor was a door on the left. He felt a tingle as he stood in front of it. Peter grabbed the knob, twisting it as quietly as he could to push the door open. It opened to a set of stairs he quietly descended until…

“May!” he called softly, rushing forward.

“Peter! Honey, what are you doing here?” she asked, distraught. Peter could make out tear tracks on her face.

“Looking for you! What happened? Did someone lock you up?” Peter whispered frantically.

“You need to go, right now. I mean it, right now you run and then you call the police and they will come and help me ok? Go!” May urged.

Peter ignored her instruction, looking around for a lock. This place was like nothing he had ever seen. May was behind a thick plate of glass, her voice only able to leak out from the speaker inset in the glass. On the side was a number pad.

“What are you doing? Go Peter!” May instructed urgently.

“Do you know the code? Did you see them punch it in?” he asked her quickly.

“It doesn’t matter because you are running. I mean it Peter, please.” She said, tears starting to fall.

“No, I won’t leave you here.” Peter replied steadfast.

May ducked her head, covering her face with her hands.

“God you stubborn… I didn’t see it, but there were four numbers.” May said.

Peter took stock of the room. Given how sophisticated the technology in his house seemed, it was unlikely the passcode was on a slip of paper somewhere in the room.

He dropped his makeshift weapon and put the light of his phone on, tilting his head to scrutinise the numbers on the pad.

They were printed in white. He saw tiny scratches in the metal on the ‘enter’, ‘8’ and ‘5’ buttons, like something metal had been used to punch the buttons. A tiny part of the 4 was missing too, just a small sliver at the very bottom of the downstroke.

It wasn’t much to go on, and there were still hundreds of combinations.

“May, listen to the sounds these buttons make, see if you can tell if any numbers repeated, if the tone was higher then lower, or did it start low and go higher.” Peter instructed, pressing the 4, 5 and 8.

“Honey I don’t… I wasn’t really listening…” May struggled.

“It’s important. Just try your best, it’ll be a place to start. Listen…” he pressed the buttons again, this time in a different order.

“Ummm… I think the lower tone was at the beginning? It didn’t end that low.” May said, straining to hear the difference in the tones.

“That’s good, really good. 4 is first then.”

Peter tried a few combinations, assuming the ‘8’ or ‘5’ repeated based on the force that would be needed to even microscopically damage the button.

4-5-8-5: no

4-5-5-8: no

4-8-5-8: no

4-8-5-5: beep beep

Unbelievable! It worked. The odds were staggering that he would get in in just a few goes.

With a sound not unlike hydraulic doors, a metal frame sealing the glass off to the side slowly opened, allowing May to scramble out of the clinical prison and wrap Peter in her arms.

“Come on, we have to get out of here.” May said, tugging Peter around before she froze.

“What a clever little detective.” Came a strange, metallic voice from behind him.

Peter spun around, covering May with his own body.

What was that?

Chapter 5: Chapter five

Chapter Text

Tony watched the dark-haired young man examine the pin pad and start hacking his security system with good old-fashioned analogue ingenuity. He had not bothered updating the system in years, this lab built for things that had no place in his life anymore. And he certainly had not expected to have a prisoner any time soon.

He cracked it in about two minutes. It would have taken Tony about the same with tools (which did not rely on blind luck, thank you very much). He was reluctantly impressed.

He silently stepped into the room, knowing how imposing he must look to the first two other humans to step place in this house for years.

“What a clever little detective.” He said darkly, his voice transformed into a more artificial crackle as it came through the suit speakers.

The woman was clearly frightened, as she should be.

Earlier that day, Tony had been furious when one of the anchor points for the house’s energy barrier suddenly dropped out, making his home vulnerable to trespassers, radar and worst of all, magic.

He had been irately re-routing the barrier to work without the fifth anchor as a band-aid solution until he could get outside and figure out the problem when a knock sounded on the door.

His head had snapped up like a whip.

Was it an accident that his barrier went down and a short time later he had the first visitor in forever knocking on the door? If it were deliberate sabotage by Christine or some other dark force out there, would they bother knocking?

Jarvis’ voice came over the room.

“Sir, the caller is a woman in her early 40s. She appears to be alone, she approached the house on foot.” He informed Tony calmly.

“Let her in Jarvis.” Came Pepper’s voice.

“Um no? What is our security protocol, ding dong and you’re in?” Tony responded, annoyed.

“She obviously needs some kind of help Tony, she must have walked up from the highway. Besides, maybe she-“

Tony waved his hand dismissively. “Pepper it’s been tabled, it’s been discussed and it’s been settled. Help is not coming, and it certainly won’t be in the form of a women who at best, stumbled up from the road because her minivan got a flat tire. But now I gotta go deal with her, even though our entire defence system is compromised.” Tony snapped, storming towards the entrance.

“Jarvis, get her talking.” Tony ordered.

“Certainly Sir.”

In his earpiece, Jarvis broadcast the conversation he was having with the woman.

“May I help you Miss?”

“Woah! Ummm, I’m sorry I can’t… where are you?”

“My voice is coming from the speaker on your left Miss.” Jarvis said, an artful dodge to revealing his true nature.

“Oh, sorry! Um, I’ve had an accident just off the highway. There was a – I mean, I know it sounds crazy, but a wolf darted out in front of me and I swerved… I sat there for a while, but I don’t have any signal to call Triple A and no other cars came passed… I was hoping maybe I could use your phone?” the woman asked.

Wolves – not all that surprising. His perimeter security picked them up from time to time.

But the accident, just off the highway near his drive…

She was why the system was down.

She ran her f*cking car in to his hardwired security post.

One small, well-concealed box of circuits and reflecting panels to boost the signal of his energy barrier, maybe a meter tall, and she managed to find it and break it.

If the barrier had been down long enough for someone to ping him, it would be her fault.

Tony’s blood was boiling when he stormed into the entry way.

Later, when he had the barrier back up and had a few fingers of scotch to calm himself down, he wondered what he was going to do with the woman.

He may have overreacted a tad, but though it was an accident, it was still a risky mess she had left him in. And worse, she knew where he was now. If she went to the press about a house with advanced technology and a man in a metal suit with an English virtual butler…

He needed leverage over her.

Or he could just keep her locked up until he inevitably died.

Just as he was seriously considering the possibility of damning the woman to months in prison (he had already done worse to Pepper and Happy, what difference would one more make? he thought bitterly), Jarvis spoke.

“Sir, there is a car coming up the drive.”

Tony gritted his teeth, his heart racing with fear.

Could this be the cold fate he had been avoiding for years, come to take what she was owed?

Jarvis projected the security footage on his screens.

It was a reasonably expensive car. Not nearly as expensive as the type he used to collect, but still not bad. From the driver’s seat emerged a slight figure.

It was not one he recognised. A young man, a teenager perhaps. The darkness made it difficult to catch any details, but he certainly did not look threatening.

But he was a threat. He was another person that knew this house existed.

“Let him in.” Tony instructed Jarvis as the boy approached the front door.

Tony’s suspicions were confirmed when the boy told the empty room that he was looking for his Aunt. He would have to move her car tomorrow to avoid any other curious parties.

He watched through the cameras as he made his way through the corridor to the containment room. While technically a separate complex to the house, it did have a connecting corridor. Tony snorted in surprised amusem*nt when he saw the kid ducking into the den to grab the fire poker as a weapon. Smart, he obviously realised something was wrong with this place, this disguised prison.

Tony made his way silently to the room, watching and listening to the boy through the suit’s visor.

Now that he stood in front of the trembling pair, he took stock of what he could not distinguish on camera.

The woman would be quite attractive if she were not so frightened and tear streaked. But the boy…

He was gorgeous.

Smooth, pale skin that looked even more luminous against the tousled brown curls that fell across his forehead, messy from running his hands through it. His wide brown eyes looked both confused and scared. His slender neck caught Tony’s eye as he scanned down his body to his faded T-shirt with a pizza illustrated like Da Vinci’s Vitruvian Man.

Tony suspected that if he were to look up ‘twink’ in the dictionary, there could easily be a picture of this kid.

“Who are you? What, what do you want?” the young man asked shakily.

“Your Aunt broke something very important to me. It pissed me off. Now someone has to fix it.” Tony said, the threatening tone combined with his imposing height in the suit and gravelly speaker voice making the boy and his Aunt cower.

The gold face plate was up on the suit, the glowing light from the eye slits looking frightening. Every step he made now was designed to be as intimidating and threatening as possible without committing actual violence. He needed these two scared, too scared to ever tell anyone what they saw here.

Unfortunately, he could already see them rallying.

The woman – May – puffed up slightly and took on an angry tone, her voice only slightly trembling. “It was a car accident, I didn’t do it on purpose. That doesn’t give you the right to keep me here.”

Tony took an abrupt step forward, watching them both flinch. “You have no idea what you destroyed, what you risked just because you couldn’t steer straight.” Tony sneered.

Just as it seemed the woman was affronted enough to respond, the young man covered the tight grip she had on his bicep with his own hand.

“I’m sure it’s fixable? We don’t have much money… but the car is insured for damage, right May? So all we have to do-“

Tony cut him off sharply. “Do I look like the kind of guy that wants police and insurance agents snooping around?”

He saw the boy swallow nervously.

“Well you should have thought of that before you took me prisoner you crazy arsehole!”.

Tony snapped his head back to May and leaned forward as he continued to advance on them, looming. He let the repulsors whir as though they were getting ready to ignite, the sound ratcheting up the tension in the room as the woman realised her righteous anger would not protect her or her nephew from coming to harm.

Now he needed to show them he meant business. Enough to scare them silly, not so much that they tried to make a run for it and forced him to actually hurt them to prevent the secret of his current existence spreading.

“Tell me, what’s to stop me throwing you both back in the cell? I bet you didn’t think to leave a note about where you were going, did you kid?”

The look of fearful realisation confirmed he was right.

“You don’t have to do that.” He said shakily. “I- maybe I can help fix it? I’m pretty handy with computers and stuff…” he finished lamely.

Tony considered.

Was holding one hostage was better than two? Did kidnapping one person to blackmail another in to silence count as two crimes?

If there was only one staying as his hostage, it had to be the boy. The Aunt’s maternal instincts would stop her from going to the police or media if it was going to potentially hurt him. As long as she was convinced he’s alive and healthy here… And as the younger and more naïve party (based on his attempts to negotiate and de-escalate the situation), he would be more likely to blindly trust in the authorities and call the police to get his Aunt back.

Tony tried to ignore the sly thought that having the pretty young thing around for a while might make the next few months just a bit more pleasant.

Besides, two people going missing from the face of the Earth was suspicious. Having a loving Aunt tell the story that her nephew was off somewhere caring for an elderly grandparent or something…

“You stay, until I am completely satisfied that all the damage caused by your Aunt’s reckless driving is fixed. And maybe I’ll throw a few extra chores in, as compensation for the inconvenience.”

“No, unacceptable.” May cut through immediately, clutching the boy protectively.

“This is not a negotiation. Your other option is for both of you to rot in that cell, together.”

“No. I’ll stay.” May pressed.

“I don’t want you.” Tony spat.

May’s eyes widened as the unintended, predatory implication registered.

Before she could actually try to throttle him with her bare hands, Tony spoke again.

“I want the one that may have passable skills dealing with a complex, online system. The one that managed to get a car all the way up the drive without crashing it.” He mocked.

Before May could retort, the boy spoke up.

“I’ll do it.”

“Peter, NO-“

“May,” Peter turned to face his Aunt, reaching up to hold her hands. “It’ll be fine. I’ll stay here for a little while, help him fix whatever is broken and then I’ll come home.”

He turned slightly to make it clear he was talking to Tony too now.

“No one will call the police or insurance companies. No one will get hurt. We’ll fix this place up and then it’ll be like nothing ever happened.”

Tony felt a hint of irritation. The gullibility of youth.

“Peter I am not leaving this place without you-“

Tony cut her off. “You know what, I’m a busy guy and this is starting to drag. Either you-“ he pointed at May – “get the hell out of here in the next five minutes and do not tell anyone that your boy is here, or I’m going to make the decision for you and throw you both in the cage.”

He felt a twinge of guilt at the broken look on May’s face. But he was not just doing this to keep his secret. Other lives were on the line here, people he owed every possible chance to get out of this alive and whole…

After a whispered conversation between the two, Peter turned to face him, resolute.

“May will promise not to say anything as long as I can talk to her every day to make sure I’m ok.” He said as his condition.

“Once a week.”

Peter paled further, realising Tony was not talking about a short-term plan.

“Th-three times a week.”

“Twice.” Tony said, extending his metal hand for Peter to shake.

Peter did so, May crying out when their hands connected.

Tony spun around, leaving them to say their goodbyes. As he did, he activated the remote drone sitting in his lab.

It flew out the front door, planting a bug on the car Peter had arrived in, the one May would be driving away in. He had already piggybacked into May’s phone so he would be able to monitor all her correspondence and had an additional tracking and listening device placed in her handbag for good measure.

The two said a tearful goodbye, Peter full of hopeful promises that he would be just fine, he would see her soon.

Tony stood out front, watching Peter urge May into the driver’s seat of the BMW.

“Remember – you tell anyone about this and it’s your nephew’s neck.” He threatened.

“If you touch him, so help me God I will kill you.” She promised with a poisonous glare.

Tony smiled slightly beneath his face plate. He thinks he would probably like this woman if they had met under different circ*mstances.

Finally, she drove off.

The boy turned to face him, tears still in his eyes and red blotches on his cheeks.

No one should look this good after crying.

“Where do you want me?”

Chapter 6: Chapter six

Chapter Text

Peter sedately followed the man in the red, ridiculously-technologically-advanced suit of amour through the house. He was choking back tears, not wanting to be so vulnerable in front of this dangerous man.

“While you are here you can go anywhere except the second floor. You can go out in the garden but you don’t go further than 100 yards from the house unless I am with you, understand?”

The metallic voice was harsh. He did not ask what would happen if he did not obey.

The man threw open the door to a room and Peter gasped when he saw what was inside.

It was a generous sized guest room, with a large bed, tall windows, a desk and what looked like might be an ensuite and walk in robe off two doors to the left.

But what caught his eye were the two drones that hovered over the bed changing the sheets. He watched their seamlessly coordinated movements as they tucked in the top sheet. Their motors were almost silent, just a whisper. As he watched, another flew out of the bathroom carrying an empty box.

“This… how…” he was speechless, temporarily forgetting his despair in light of the amazing technology on display.

“They’re coordinated by Jarvis, he runs the house. J?”

“Yes sir.”

Peter’s eyes flew to the ceiling looking for speakers in the corners of the room, but he found none.

“I’m showing you this so you know just how useless it would be to try and run away.” The man said bluntly.

It all came thundering back.

He was… kidnapped? Held hostage? Either way, a prisoner here. This man had technology the likes of which Peter had never seen. He was as effectively trapped as if he were in the thick glass cage. At least it was a luxurious cell.

“Don’t do anything stupid kid, and you’ll be able to walk away from this.” Was the last thing the man said before he left the room, the drones following moments later.

Peter scurried to shut the door. There was no lock, but even if there was, this man would be able to break down the door with one metal covered arm.

He looked around the room, feeling lost. He found Aunt May. She was safe, that was what mattered. And he would not be here forever. Maybe he could even learn something?

His face crumbled and he sunk to the floor with his back against the expensive bedding and cried.

********************************

Tony perched himself on the specially designed stool he had created to accommodate the shape and weight of the suit.

What a night.

He drew back the face plate and gloves so he could rub his temples where the headache of the past hour had settled.

What was he going to do with this kid?

Of course, he did not actually need help in restoring the energy barrier to its former glory. Nor did he have any other chores to get done – at least, none that would not be done better by a drone.

Maybe he should confine him to the room. Leave out some old books and a gaming console, have meals delivered and have Jarvis give him an hour supervised yard time.

Or he could give him a speedo and have him clean the pool.

An image of pool parties from the old days surfaced. Beautiful young men and women walking around topless, sipping from coconuts and flirting with all the older men that gathered to admire them and one-up each other for who was the richest and most powerful. Tony would have found himself in a hot tub with at least two young admirers, slipping a hand under the water to play with one while the other nibbled on his neck and told him how attractive they found him.

The thought just made him feel tired now.

“Jarvis, pull up cameras to the eastern ground floor guest suite.” He instructed.

Before the screen could light up with an image of what Peter was doing right now, Pepper’s voice rang out.

“Absolutely not Jarvis.”

Tony looked up, affronted by Pepper belaying his order.

“You will not spy on that boy Tony,” she said. “Not after what you’ve put him through tonight.”

“I hear the disapproval in your voice, so I’m eager to hear the alternate solution you came up with for dealing with this kid and his Aunt.”

Silence followed.

“Not so easy is it?”

“Tony for God’s sake, this is kidnapping! Have you really sunk that low?”

“Yes, I have. You know why? Cause I’m desperate Pep.”

Pepper sighed. It was amazing that she was able to maintain such human sounds of exasperation when she was now a disembodied voice living as an A.I that definitely did not need to breath. Must be Tony’s special talents for frustrating the woman.

“Need I remind you that we are passed our expiry date? If Christine Everhart or a member of her coven or whatever find us, do you know what happens?”

“No, do you?” she shot back sassily.

“No. And that terrifies me. I have a few months left to find a solution for you and Happy and if I need to put up some teenager in the world’s most luxurious house arrest to make sure I have that time, that’s what I am going to do.”

He could feel the pity coming out of the speakers where Pepper’s voice sounded, but wisely she said nothing more. Talking about it only served to make Tony spiral further into the pool of self-loathing and guilt that had been bubbling over the past eight years, ever since the curse was created.

The day after Christine had called him out as arrogant, uncaring and needing a wake-up call about how he treated others, started like a bad hangover.

Only instead of rolling over to find the glass of water and aspirin left by Happy and Jarvis telling him about the weather and his schedule for the day, he woke to Jarvis in a panic.

“Sir! Sir my readings indicate you are awake. There are urgent matters that require your attention.”

Tony groaned. “Jarvis unless someone is missing or dead, I am going to roll over and sleep this off.”

A beat of silence.

“Jarvis?”

“Sir, Miss Potts and Mr Hogan are missing.”

He wished he could say the rest of the morning was a blur, but he remembered every terrifying second.

He had torn through the house looking for Pepper and Happy. Both of their rooms showed evidence they had been slept in last night, no signs of a struggle. Jarvis told him all the windows and doors were locked. Finally, he arrived in his lab where Jarvis lined up the security footage from last night. While there were no cameras in either of their rooms, the heat readings over the entire property registered something strange at 2:15am.

All three signatures in the house grew hot, have-a-temperature, go-to-the-doctor hot. Then abruptly, Pepper and Happy disappeared off the screen.

“What… Jarvis, is it possible someone had some camouflage tech, or…” Tony struggled to think of any explanation.

“Sir, I have run every possible scenario for an intruder entering or Miss Potts or Mr Hogan leaving the property. There… is none. They simply vanished, like…”

“…magic.” Tony finished with a whisper.

“Sir, that is not all. I have tried to run a scan for any known enemies or malcontents that may have referenced Stark Industries or yourself in any digital platform in the last six months.”

Tony frowned. Jarvis was not programmed to pause or hesitate. His processors were fastest in the world, if there was an answer he would have it ready to deliver to Tony before he even started speaking.

“There is no record of Stark Industries having existed.”

“What the f*ck do you mean?” Tony asked breathlessly, feeling his chest tightening, his next breath increasingly hard to come by.

“Sir it is as if you, Miss Potts and Mr Hogan have been wiped from every known database. All Stark Industries employees I have run checks on are employed elsewhere. A rudimentary search of the military’s database shows no SI weapons in inventory. In fact, they seem to have regressed several years in the weapons and communications technology they do have on hand. Not even eBay has a sign of any Stark tech...”

Tony listened as Jarvis listed all the signs from his search that confirmed Tony had been wiped from the world, scrubbed away like he was never even born.

“Without your name, without your legacy…”

Christine’s words suddenly came back to him.

No.

No way.

That…

“Jarvis, get Christine Everhart on the line.”

Jarvis may not be able to drop Tony’s name to get him patched right through, but he could manoeuvre his way through Vanity Fair’s unsecured switchboard to get Christine’s direct number.

“Everhart.” Was the clipped greeting.

“What the f*ck did you do?”

“I’m sorry, who’s this?”

“Don’t f*cking play with me. What did you do? Where are Pepper and Happy?”

“I’m afraid I don’t know a ‘Pepper’ or a ‘Happy’…” she let her act slip, a slyness colouring her tone as she trailed off.

“I don’t know how you managed this but if you have a problem you can take it up with me.” Tony said.

“No, I don’t think that will work Tony.”

Even though he knew she remembered him and understood what was happening far better than he did, it was still a slight relief for her to say his name. Now he had a confirmed enemy.

“You’re arrogant and self-destructive enough that if it was just you, you would no doubt find a way to flood the market with all your poisonous tech again before you died and in seven years’ time, we’d be in the exact same scenario as last night. You need to understand that your actions have consequences, that people other than you matter.”

“So what, you’re going to hold them hostage until you think I’m sufficiently humble?” he demanded.

“Oh, they’re not hostage with me. They are still with you. Might take them a few hours to adjust…”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“You’re a smart guy, you’ll figure it out. And Stark? Seven years, that’s what you get. Do some soul searching, go on some dates, try to find someone you appreciate for who they are, not just how they orbit you. And do not contact me at this number again – this is my last day at the magazine. I’ll be keeping an eye on you though.” Christine let out a light chuckle, the sound bone-chillingly ominous over the phone.

“One last piece of advice? Check your chest. You should be able to see your progress there.”

Then all Tony heard was the dial tone.

“Jarvis, you record all that buddy?” Tony asked numbly, already slipping off his shirt.

“Yes sir.” Came Jarvis’ quiet reply.

Tony stepped up to a mirror, examining his bare chest. There in the middle, right over his heart, was a black mark that had not been there before.

He retreated back to the bench where he all but collapsed back on to the stool. “Magic is just science we don’t understand yet”. Arthur C Clarke said that. Tony Stark was the most brilliant mind of the 21^st century – if anyone could figure out the science behind this magic, it was him.

He was still in the lab, Jarvis documenting every note for experimentation Tony was spitting out, having already taken blood, urine and photographs, when he heard Pepper’s voice.

Her voice was panicked. “Tony? Tony?! Where am I, what- what’s happening?!”

“Pep?” he asked, head whipping around but not seeing her.

“What the f*ck is going on?!” she exclaimed.

“Where-“ then his eyes landed on one of the tiny hidden speakers that dotted the entire house.

Oh no.

Was it possible?

“Jarvis?” he asked desperately.

After a beat, Jarvis answered. “Sir, it appears Miss Potts is… like me. I can feel her sharing my sensors. Miss Potts should be able to access the cameras for visual.”

“What – what do you mean? Access cameras? I can’t see anything. What is happening?!”

After shouting at each other in a panic, Pepper and Tony eventually figured out that he could access her source code just like Jarvis.

It was crazy complex, billions of human synapses programmed into an artificial intelligence program. If it was any less terrifying and hideously invasive, Tony would enjoy rooting around to figure out how a schematic that dense would possibly exist in code.

He typed in a quick command to access camera 127, the one that would give her a view of Tony in the lab.

“I- I can see you. You better start talking RIGHT NOW, or I swear to God…”

“Honey I will I promise, but can either of you sense Happy?”

There was no sign of Happy yet, but Pepper certainly kept him occupied for the next twenty minutes screeching about magic. She was firmly of the belief that it was his dick that had got them in this mess, despite his reassurances that his dalliance with Christine had been over two years ago and she hadn’t seemed all that pissed about it then.

“Pep… I’m sorry ok. I swear to you, I am going to do everything in my power to fix this. I’m going to figure it out.” He pledged.

Pepper was silent for a beat. “What do you need from me?”

Tony had no response.

And now, eight years later, he still had no response.

Chapter 7: Chapter seven

Chapter Text

After wearing himself out crying, Peter had been able to fall into a fitful sleep for a few hours.

Light was breaking through the windows when he awoke. He felt groggy and confused at first before it all came slamming home.

He was being held hostage in a mansion out in the middle of nowhere with no end in sight, stuck with a man in a metal suit whose motives were unknown.

The temptation to curl under the covers and hope it all went away was strong.

But that would do him no good. He climbed out of the admittedly very comfortable bed and drew back the curtains to see the outside of this house in the daylight for the first time.

Peter gasped as he took in the view. He had been correct the previous night when he thought there were spectacular ocean views. His window looked right over the ocean, the rays of sunlight dancing across the calm waves. He reluctantly turned from the view, exploring the room in more detail. In the massive walk in robe there were a couple of nondescript tracksuit pants and tops, along with an extra pair of shoes, socks and underwear. Though one size too big for him, clean clothes and a shower would be a huge relief.

In the bathroom there was a full suite of toiletries, fluffy towels and a shower that looked like it had more settings than a microwave oven. He toyed around with the taps, the two heads pumping out soothing jets of perfectly warm water straight away.

Peter stripped and climbed under the spray, moaning in pleasure. The tiny shower at his and May’s apartment had dreadful water pressure, and hot water lasted for about six minutes. He squeezed out some shampoo, not recognising the label. It smelled great, a subtle perfume of citrus that lathered his curls well. Running his hands through his hair, massaging the beautiful smelling shampoo into his scalp and being in no rush to get through his washing routine before he was brutalised with cold water was heaven.

He felt his co*ck start to stir. The tension from yesterday was bleeding out of his veins- maybe an org*sm would put him properly to rights to deal with the upcoming day? It’s not like anyone would know…

His hand froze where it had just wrapped around his dick.

How did he know that he was not being watched right now?

The thought was enough to will away his budding erection and make him scan the room through the shower glass. Like the speakers last night, he suspected that he would be unable to find any cameras that existed anyway.

The suspicion that he may be under surveillance made him finish washing quickly, tightly wrapping one towel around his waist and drying himself with another. He felt it was thoughtful that he had been given moisturiser, toothbrush and paste, hair dryer, combs, gel and more. He was especially surprised by the razors, though he supposed they were not much of a weapon against a man covered head to toe in metal.

Once he was dressed in the clothes provided, Peter made the bed and took a seat at the desk, wondering what to do next. Should he stay here? The man said he was free to wander the ground floor, but he did not want to risk running in to him.

Peter must have sat there for an hour, his anxiety ratcheting up the longer he went unacknowledged. The clock on the side table he had not noticed before said it was 9:45am. Maybe the man was a late sleeper?

A thought occurred to him them.

“Umm… Mr Jarvis?” he asked aloud.

“Yes Mr Parker?”

Even though he had spoken first, Peter still jumped.

“Ah, hi. Um… I was wondering what I’m supposed to do?”

“Sir did not leave instructions for what you were to do. However if you are hungry, you will find the kitchen off the corridor next to the staircase and to the right. Mr Hogan can prepare you breakfast.”

“Oh um, thanks. Is- is that where you are? Or do you like, have an office?”

“Neither Mr Parker.”

When he did not provide further clarity, Peter decided the best course of action was to follow his suggestion and find the kitchen.

The house looked different in the light, infinitely less insidious and clearly expensive. Peter found the wide double doors to the kitchen open, the sound of a grumbling man echoing down the hallway.

He stepped hesitantly forward, listening closely.

“So what, now I’m house mother? Now I gotta cook and clean up after this kid?”

A woman’s voice joined in.

“Happy, you know the drones will do the most of the work. And he’s not a child, I’m sure he’s capable of picking up after himself and pouring himself a bowl cereal.” The woman’s voice was lovely, seeming drily amused.

The man continued on, as if the woman had not just rationally explained how little a burden Peter would actually be.

“I’m doing this with one hand. Literally. When people say ‘do it with a hand tied behind my back’, that is my reality here Pep. I’m playing on the highest difficulty level. And now Tony wants me babysitting?”

Peter stepped into the kitchen but was not greeted by a man and a woman.

Behind the kitchen bench was a giant robot consisting entirely of one arm. It swivelled on its stand to point at Peter, a small camera mounted on top. It reminded Peter bizarrely of the animated Pixar lamp.

“Peter please, take a seat.” Came the warm voice of the woman out of nowhere.

Peter hesitantly did so, eyeing the robot that looked surprisingly threatening as it swivelled slowly, tracking Peter’s movements like a predator.

“What would you like to eat? Happy can whip something together.” The woman continued.

“Umm, anything is fine.”

“Toast it is.” Came the male voice. From the one-armed robot.

Peter was staring. That was probably a rude thing to do, but given that a one-armed robot was talking to him, he thought it could be excused.

As he watched, the arm pulled some bread out of a cupboard and put two slices in an expensive looking toaster. It grabbed a tray of butter and a number of spread selections which it plopped roughly in front of Peter.

“How are you feeling this morning Peter? Better after the events of last night I hope?”

The woman’s voice must be coming through the speakers like Jarvis’s.

“I’m alright, thank you. I ah, I have some questions though? If that’s ok?”

“Of course you do. Please ask and we’ll do our best to answer them.”

“Who are you? I mean, what’s your name? And maybe, if it’s ok to ask, what do you do here?”

“My name is Pepper Potts. I work here as Mr Stark’s personal assistant. That is Happy in front of you, he also assists Mr Stark in running the house.”

The robot was collecting two slices of toast on a plate before dumping it rather passive aggressively in front of Peter.

“Do you mean- like, Mr Happy is controlling… that?”

“No kid, she doesn’t.” came Happy’s voice from the robot, followed by a rather cute whizzing sound as the robot swivelled to drive itself (?) further away from Peter. His eyes followed it, bewildered.

“Um, are you with Mr Jarvis Miss Potts?” he asked.

A beat of silence occurred before Pepper answered. “Yes.”

“Are, are you in the house?” Peter asked, trying not to be too interrogative but getting frustrated by the lack of straight answers.

“I exist only in the house. I’m sorry Peter, there is an explanation for all of this, but Mr Stark has… requested that we do not inform you in full at this time.” Miss Pott’s tight tone revealed just what she thought of that order. She may be beholden to this ‘Mr Stark’s orders, but Peter felt like he could have a friend in her.

“I see. And is, um, is Mr Stark the man in the metal suit?” he asked meekly, unsure how much he wanted to be seen as probing about his captor.

“Yes he is.”

Peter slowly buttered his toast, nibbling on the corner of one piece.

“Can… can you tell me what he plans to do with me?”

“Oh honey, he won’t hurt you.” Miss Potts was quick to assure him.

“I don’t understand.” Peter exclaimed, his frustration bleeding through. “I don’t get this place. I don’t understand why he was so angry at Aunt May. I don’t understand why he’s keeping me here, or who you and Jarvis and Happy are and why you are controlling everything remotely!”

“They’re not controlling everything remotely.” Came a voice from behind him.

Peter jumped, leaping to his feet and spinning around in rapid movements that made him stumble and have to catch himself on the edge of the kitchen bench.

The man – Mr Stark – stood in front of him in his shining red suit.

“Pepper is a voice in the roof. Happy is the robot.”

Peter frowned, his curiosity temporarily overriding his fear.

“Like, artificial intelligence? But… they’re so advanced…”

Mr Stark snorted, an odd sound when filtered through his suit speakers.

Chapter 8: Chapter eight

Chapter Text

It was only a little later that morning when Miss Potts’ voice echoed through the invisible speakers in his room.

“Peter, you can call your Aunt now. There’s a phone in your desk draw.”

Peter scrambled over to the desk, pulling out a thin, sleek touch screen phone. It took him less than a minute to figure out the buttons – like other things he’d seen in this house, it was super advanced.

He punched in May’s number, listening to the perfect, crisp sounding dial tone as it tried to connect.

“Hello?”

May was never this quick to pick up her phone, she must have been waiting by it.

“May?”

“Oh my God! Peter! Honey are you ok?”

“I’m fine, I’m ok.”

“God I’ve been pacing all morning thinking I should just call the cops, but I don’t want to risk him hurting you-“

“May really, I’m-“

“I’m so sorry I left you, I never should have done that.”

“You had to-“

“I’ve tried to look up the property and details of who owns it online but there’s no sign of it, not even on Google Maps satellite view…”

“That…. Doesn’t really surprise me. The technology here is crazy May.”

“Oh honey, what’s been happening? You tell me if he’s laid a single finger on you alright!”

“May he hasn’t, really. In fact… he seems totally disinterested in me.”

“What do you mean?”

“It’s… strange. He gave me this amazing room – the view is incredible May, you would love it. And he said I can walk around the ground floor of the house, even go outside as long as I don’t wander too far.”

“That’s… good. But honey don’t you let your guard down, you understand me? No matter how harmless he seems to be, he’s still a crazy person that abducted me and is holding you hostage. If he’s not interested in you, that’s good. You stay as far away from him as you can.”

“Ok, I will.”

“Promise me.”

“I promise, I’ll be careful.”

“Good.”

Peter hated how stressed May sounded. Maybe if he could make the conversation seem more normal? Talk about other things to show her how unconcerned he was about his personal safety.

“Did you get the car back to Mr Beck?”

Damn Peter winced. Maybe not the best topic of conversation to switch to.

“I wrote him a note and pushed the keys through his mail slot. I still don’t understand why you even had his car.”

Peter scrambled for an answer.

“It’s ah, well he’s come into the store a couple of times and we got chatting. He’s nice. And when I needed a car, I just thought ‘Mr Beck has one’, so I… asked.”

Peter could hear how lame an explanation it was. May was silent for a couple of beats.

“I see. And would ‘Mr Beck’ have anything to do with your late nights coming home looking like you had an appointment with the hairstylist from hell who also gave you beard burn?”

Peter was silently mortified for several seconds. Had he been so obvious?

“Ummmm…”

May sighed. “I’m going to take that as a yes.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you May. It’s nothing serious! It just… happened.”

“Oh Pete, you don’t have to apologise. I get that you may not want to share everything about your love life with your Aunt. It’s just… he’s older and very… self-possessed. I just worry that maybe a relationship with him would be more intense than you were perhaps intending.”

“Yeah, I… I think you’re right.” Peter quietly confided. “I kinda… broke up with him? But… I dunno, it’s confusing…”

“I know baby. But you’ve always got a friendly ear here if you want to talk it out. We can talk about anything, from Quentin Beck to crazy men in metal suits to your Uncle Ben…”

Peter did not miss the hint.

Just before May had been forced to drive away last night, she had hugged him tight and whispered quietly in his ear: “If you feel unsafe or in danger, just mention Ben and I’ll know it is code for bringing the police to storm this place, ok?”

But he did not need to stir the pot now, not when he was in an uncertain but ultimately uneventful limbo.

“I know May. I love you.”

“I love you so much kiddo.”

“I should go. But I’m safe, I’m ok. Don’t tell anyone where I am and, umm… I’ll talk to you later this week?”

He heard a sniffle on the other end of the line. “Ok. Please for the love of God, take care of yourself.”

“You too. Bye May.”

Peter was not ashamed to say that after he hung up, he spent the next half hour crying.

*************************************

After he calmed down, Peter quickly became bored in his room.

He poked his head out the door, looking up and down the corridor for any signs that Mr Stark was around. He walked cautiously down the corridor, eventually stepping into the den he had been in briefly last night.

“Hello Peter.”

Miss Potts’ voice made him jump, feeling like he had been caught doing something forbidden.

“Hey Miss Potts.”

“Peter you can call me Pepper.”

“Um ok, thanks. Ah…”

“I wanted to suggest some options for how you might entertain yourself over the coming days.” Miss Pott’s helpfully interjected.

“That would be great.” Peter did not think he would be able to survive living in such total boredom.

“To your right is a bookcase containing a selection of fiction and non-fiction, mostly biographies. On the left, the bookcase contains publications related to science and technology. Mostly you’ll find publications like Popular Science and Popular Mechanics, as well as some more biographies and opinion pieces.”

Peter immediately gravitated to the left.

“There is a television built into each room containing all current subscriptions services and movies on demand. Just ask Jarvis to open it for you. I can have a gaming console available upon your request, or any other entertainment media to your preference. There is a gymnasium off the corridor by the kitchen as well as a pool. You are free to use them any time, though I will let you know that Mr Stark makes use of the gymnasium mostly late at night. If you would like to make use of the kitchen, I would advise checking in with Happy first.”

Peter was shocked. Was he a hostage or staying at a fancy hotel?

“Um, thank you Miss Potts – I mean, Pepper.” Peter was drawing out old copies of the magazines, thinking it strange that Mr Stark would have kept magazines a decade old. It did not really match up with the elegant, minimalist nature of the house.

He sat cross-legged in front of the bookcase, sorting through the pile he had carefully drawn out.

Half of them were covered in Mr Stark’s face.

Peter could not afford a subscription to any of these publications but did read them at the library where May ordered them in special for him. He had not exactly gone through the entire back catalogue, but he knew he had certainly never seen or heard of Mr Stark before coming here.

These issues made it seem that Mr Stark was the biggest name in world of technology, science and innovation.

He quickly dismissed the possibility that these were gags, joke editions where they imposed someone’s face on the front page and had some nonsense article. However, some of the content was like science fiction.

Peter spent hours pouring over these magazines, soaking up every bit of information he could find on Mr Stark (and mentally bookmarking some interesting articles to come back to later).

He was not entirely sure how he felt about the result.

On one hand, the arms dealer, the ‘Merchant of Death’ that developed super advanced and hellishly destructive weapons did ring somewhat true with what he had seen of his temper and lack of empathy.

But on the other… Peter soaked in all the advancements to mobile phones, global communication arrays, high-speed internet provisions to public schools, body armour and bomb-diffusing bots that made the jobs of police and fire fighters so much safer. He had to blink back tears when he read about Stark Tech MRIs and blood scanners, the hopes Mr Stark had for the advancement of early detection scans for so many diseases and types of cancers. If these had existed, maybe Uncle Ben…

These were advancements he would have put at maybe fifteen years away. But according to the dates on these magazines, they had come and gone.

But they had not.

As Peter was finishing the last article from the first shelf, the most recent dated just under eight years ago concerning hover technology, he noted the distinct lack of mention of any metal suit or references that the billionaire genius behind Stark Industries might walk around his house looking like a futuristic knight of the round table. And there was certainly not a lack of references to Mr Stark’s personal life, though references like ‘amid the latest scandal involving the President of Latveria’ often went no further, leaving Peter to wonder.

One thing was for certain – there was no way a man like that went from revolutionising the world to cutting invention out of his life entirely. Which means there was a workspace somewhere around here.

“Hey Pepper? Where is Mr Stark now?”

“Mr Stark is down the drive, making some repairs to the hardware damaged by your Aunt’s car.” Pepper informed him promptly.

Peter looked up. It was getting dark outside. He assumed Mr Stark had waited until now to help minimise detection.

As nonchalantly as he could, Peter stood up and stretched, walking back out to the main entrance area that acted as a hub, splitting the house into various wings. He had explored all but one walkway.

He shuffled closer to it now. He had dismissed the archway and top of the staircase as leading down to a basem*nt or garage. But if he were an inventor dealing with huge machines or potentially dangerous parts, he would not be doing so on the top floor…

Peter moved towards the staircase.

“Sir, you are not permitted in this area of the house.“ came Jarvis’ voice, causing Peter to halt guiltily.

“Oh… I thought I was only banned from the top floor?” Peter queried.

It was Pepper that responded. “He’s right Jarvis, Tony only banned him from the top floor. Let him through please. Peter, please be careful. Do not touch anything that could be remotely dangerous.”

Peter beamed towards the ceiling, unsure where Pepper was able to view him from.

He skipped down the stairs and came to wide glass doors that opened to a large laboratory.

If he thought the house was advanced before, it was nothing to now.

It was like a Candyland, all the shining surfaces, strewn about parts, screens with complex codes and blueprints, and machines in various states of completion. Peter wove between the benches and raised platforms in the lab, admiring but not touching everything he came across.

A screen with a blinking red light caught his eye. He stepped closer, seeing what looked like a complex scan of a man, perhaps his blood vessels or his nervous system? Peter was unsure. But shadows danced along the lines of the moving image, originating from the heart. Next to it read “Blood Toxicity: 48%”, the number in large red lights.

Slightly obscured by the screen was an old-fashioned white board, the only non-digital display of data in the room. It looked like something from ‘A Beautiful Mind’, newspaper clippings and strings connecting pictures and files. It did not look like it had been touched in a while, but as Peter stepped closer he could make out some names: ‘Christine Everhart’, ’10 Rings’, ‘Mandarin’, and ‘Jericho’. He reached up to move an article to the side, recognising the Jericho missile as Stark Tech, when he heard the dreaded voice speak up from behind him.

“What do you think you’re doing in here?”

His tone was dangerous, obviously furious despite not yelling.

Peter floundered for something to say.

“I- I was just looking around… I thought you were out…”

“Yes that was obvious, waiting for me to leave the house so you could go snooping places you DON’T belong.” Mr Stark was advancing on him now, his face plate still up so Peter could not see his face.

“HOW did you get in here?”

“I- you only said not to go up to the second floor.” Peter said, a bit defensively.

“Full of excuses. Jarvis, did you not think that the lab would be an inappropriate place for this kid to be walking around in?”

“Sir, I-“

“Mute.” Mr Stark ordered briskly, turning his full attention back to Peter.

“I- I won’t tell anyone what I’ve seen.” Peter promised meekly.

“Why the f*ck would I trust your word when at the first possible opportunity you disobey the rules and sneak into my private lab? What were you looking for?”

“Nothing! Nothing I swear, I was just… I was curious, you were in all the magazines…”

“Haven’t I been nice to you? Let you talk with Pepper and Jarvis, Happy’s fed you, you have all the entertainment a kid could need and still you seem determined to piss me off.”

Peter felt his hackles rise.

“You haven’t been nice to me.”

Mr Stark paused before flipping up his face plate and looking at him incredulously.

“Excuse me?”

“You haven’t been nice. You’ve been rude and surly and threatening. You abducted my Aunt when she needed help. You’re keeping me here for reasons I don’t understand!”

Peter felt himself buzzing with indignant anger. He had never been in a confrontation like this, and admittedly it was not advisable that his first should be with such a dangerous man that he would be unable to defend himself against… but he was fed up and refused to be condescended to and chastised like he was an ungrateful child.

“I could have been a lot worse kiddo. By my good graces, you and your Aunt are alive and well. Did you want to change that?”

Peter felt his confidence flagging but had to get the next part out.

“Alive and well – that’s more than I can say for you.”

Mar Stark’s expression turned sharp while Peter blazed forward.

“You’re in trouble, aren’t you? I can read a screen output as well as the next person. Is that what your scary suit is for? So you can appear strong and frightening to other people while inside you’re broken?”

“You want to see what the suit is for?!”

Mr Stark restored his face plate and raised his arm, a circle of light in the palm directly facing Peter.

A sudden whirring sound radiated from the suit and Peter dived to the side just as a bright beam of light blasted out of Mr Stark’s palm, hitting a screen the was behind and about three inches to the left of where Peter’s head had been.

“GET. OUT!” Mr Stark yelled, the mechanical amplification making it seem like a roar through the room.

Peter scrambled desperately around him, bolting up the stairs and straight out the front door.

Chapter 9: Chapter nine

Chapter Text

Tony sagged almost as soon as the boy was out of the lab.

When did he get so bad at dealing with other people? It used to be that he would charm the pants off pretty young things like Peter – literally. But the stress of him being here, of having so little time left to fix this curse was getting to him.

Who was he kidding? The accusation that he was broken inside hit him pretty hard as well.

He sighed dejectedly, his stomach twisting with guilt as he sent out a drone with just a couple of taps to track the boy. It was dark but still early, he should be able to find his way down to the road. Would Tony pick him up or let him go home to his Aunt?

The drone spotted him running down the drive. With a further command it moved onward, charting the young man’s path for any potential pitfalls or dangers. The last thing he needed was a bleeding hostage needing a hospital visit.

“Tony-“ said Pepper’s reproachful voice.

“Not- not right now Pep. I know, I f*cked up, just… not right now.”

Then, an alert sounded from the drone.

Heat signatures identified.

Wolves.

Tony’s blood ran cold. Just how unlucky was this kid??

Tony’s stomach turned at the thought of Peter’s blood spilling over the ground, how painful such a death would be.

How it would be Tony’s fault.

He hit the garage door, the fastest way out of there in the suit. He engaged repulsors and shot off to the exact coordinates Jarvis was already feeding him. He arrived on the scene only moments later, but already the wolves had caught scent of their vulnerable prey.

Peter was backed against a tree, holding a thick branch in front him to ward off the three canines that were growling and angling for the best opportunity to pounce.

Tony aimed his repulsor at the wolf on the left, hitting it with the bright light as he landed with a thunk. It would not kill the wolf, calibrated to more of an annoying burn than anything. But it should scare the animals off.

It did not.

They seemed to rile up more if anything.

Tony cursed. He was reluctant to annihilate a pack of wolves – not just because of ick factor, but because there was a strong likelihood that a pack of this size in this part of the country was being monitored by some biologist somewhere, and their sudden disappearance would raise even more questions.

He shot another repulsor blast at a wolf that got co*cky and went to lunge at him. Then he heard Peter cry out. A wolf had gotten close enough to wrap its teeth around the branch Peter was defending himself with. To avoid hitting Peter, Tony stepped forward and with the additional strength afforded him by the suit, picked the wolf up by the fur on its back and tossed it away.

He felt another wolf chomping on his well-protected leg, which meant he did not have a clear shot to wrap Peter in his arms and fly him away.

He saw another wolf lining up to dive at Peter and he acted on instinct, projecting the nanotech particles of the suit to wrap themselves around Peter’s right arm and form a light but hardy shield, just in time for the wolf to hit it.

Unfortunately, there were not enough nanotech pieces to keep his armour fully intact after the donation. A portion of his right arm disappeared to defend Peter and the wolves, being the clever predators they are, spotted the weakness immediately.

A big wolf with a bright white underbelly leapt at the exposed arm, managing to sink its teeth a good half-inch into the skin before Peter swung his new shield around to knock it on its head.

The resulting whimper seemed to cause a moment of hesitation for the pack. Tony took advantage, Jarvis pumping an extinguisher down his dented leg plate to dislodge the dedicated wolf from its mouthful as he wrapped his injured arm around Peter, pulling him in tight. Peter immediately responded, wrapping his arms around Tony’s neck and holding on desperately as Tony blasted off, taking them twenty metres into the sky and back toward the house, leaving the wolf pack singed and still hungry.

Tony manoeuvred them straight back through the garage door, Jarvis closing it behind him.

“sh*t!” Tony cursed as they landed and stumbled in their embrace, jolting his injured arm.

Peter quickly let go and stepped back, staring at him wide-eyed.

“You ok kid?”

The boy just kept staring at him.

“Kid, you ok? Did you get bit, scratched, mauled anywhere I can’t see?”

“No, no I… you got there in time.”

Tony nodded, moving to a seat and U wheeling over with a first aid kit.

“Are you ok?” Peter asked softly.

“Aside from a likely case of rabies? I’ll be fine.” Tony retracted the other arm of his suit so he could grab the iodine and pour it over the wounds on his arm. He knew Jarvis would already be acquiring a full suite of treatments to one of their PO boxes for the drones to pick up, so for now it was just about avoiding infection and blood loss.

Tony moved to a cabinet where he stored some of the smaller experiments, extracting a nano particle spray he had been toying with as an emergency field treatment and spraying it on two of the deeper teeth gouges in lieu of stitches.

“Sir, I am monitoring your blood levels and they are within a healthy range, but you may wish to ingest some fluids.” Jarvis piped in helpfully.

“Peter, will you please fetch Mr Stark a glass of orange juice from the kitchen?” Pepper asked.

Peter nodded quickly, dashing upstairs immediately.

Once he was gone, Tony asked Jarvis, “what’s the word on the arc reactor buddy?”

“The reactor is behaving as normal, but the additional strain of activity has impacted the core solution. It was due for replacement soon, but I now recommend immediate maintenance.”

“That’s what I thought.” Said Tony grimly.

Changing of the core solution that sat just behind the reactor was a fairly simple process, but Tony was a righty and the steadiness of his grip was severely compromised with the bite.

Peter came rushing back downstairs, holding a full glass of orange juice. Tony could see it had splashed over his hand in his haste to get back downstairs. Tony felt his lip twitch. How sweet.

“Here you go Mr Stark.” He said, thrusting the glass towards Tony.

“I don’t like to be handed things? You can put it on the table.”

“Oh, ok… but you should drink it soon…” came the gentle urging from the boy.

Seems like his gratitude was quickly outweighing his fear from their earlier confrontation.

“Perhaps once you clear the air, Peter can help you with your required suit maintenance?” Pepper asked with faux-innocence.

Damn that woman.

The kid blushed, looking hesitantly up at Tony through his lashes.

A quick bolt of lust went through Tony. He really was very pretty, this timid look like he was waiting for Tony’s approval doing things for his libido. That being said, Peter had looked just a beautiful when he was standing in this lab just a little while ago, chin tilted up and anger colouring his cheeks instead of shyness.

“I overreacted.” Tony said quickly. “I know I haven’t been nice to you. I’m not a nice man. But I shouldn’t have yelled at you, and I definitely shouldn’t have fired a repulsor blast to frighten you.”

He met the kid’s eyes as he looked up in shock, obviously not having anticipated this. Then he said the words Tony Stark had uttered maybe three times before in his life (while sober):

“I’m sorry.”

The kid’s mouth moved soundlessly once or twice while he tried to find the words to respond.

“I- I’m sorry too. I was rude and I overstepped. I shouldn’t have been in here and I shouldn’t have said what I did.”

“A perfectly understandable reaction from a teenager trapped against his will by an egotistical maniac. An under-reaction if anything.” Tony said, shooting a small, humourless smile at Peter.

An awkward silence hung for a moment.

“I’d like to help you,” came the tentative offer from Peter. “Let me?”

Tony considered for a moment. Letting someone in – it did not come easily to him, especially over the last several years of isolation. But this young man was good, trustworthy and almost painfully earnest. If an exception could be made, he was a good candidate.

“How steady are your hands?”

***************************************

Tony reclined back on what he called his ‘dentist chair’, built specifically for this purpose. He double tapped his chest plate, causing the suit to collapse in on itself and display his five foot nine figure in all its glory.

“I’m going to pop out the compartment, then you need to reach in and disconnect the leads carefully before you replace it- kid, you listening?” Tony interrupted himself.

Peter was staring at him like he’d never seen another person before. Tony would not flatter himself as much as to think it was because of his attractive body – the suit dismantling is quite a sight to behold, especially for someone who had not seen anything remotely this advanced before. The light that remained buried in his chest was probably also a surprise. Tony had not taken his shirt off – he did not need to for this maintenance - which had the added bonus of hiding the visible effects of the curse. However, Tony did notice that the black lines were starting to peak out of the neck of his shirt now.

He wondered briefly if he was hiding it from Peter because he did not want questions or if it was because it confirmed what he had said earlier about Tony being broken.

“S-sorry Mr Stark! Umm, I just connect the new leads? I can do that.”

“Good. You ready?”

Peter nodded, leaning over Tony’s body, his stomach brushing against Tony’s arm.

Tony popped out the compartment, the empty disk ejecting and light dimming. Most of the chest piece sat on top of his chest, save for a couple of prongs that were buried in his sternum to have contact with the blood flowing directly to his heart.

Peter had a look of intense concentration on his face as he smoothly removed the disk, quickly grabbing the new one and installing it efficiently.

“Push it back in for me, would you?” Tony asked.

Peter tentatively, then more forcefully pushed the disk inward, where it took an extra second to find its place with a tiny humming sound.

“Is it… is it what powers the light?” Peter asked hesitantly, as though unsure whether it was too personal a question.

“No. The arc reactor is separate, it powers the suit. The solution you just installed slowly pedals through my body, the arc reactor just regulates its release.”

“It’s fighting your… condition? Whatever the blood toxicity reading was referring to?” he pressed.

“Yes.” Tony confirmed shortly, sitting up and reactivating the suit, integrating the particles he had temporarily leant to Peter for his protection.

“Why do you wear the suit all the time?”

“Did we start a game of twenty questions?” Tony shot back defensively.

Peter recoiled slightly. Tony sighed – he was already ruining the tentative alliance.

“I wear it because it helps me to manage my condition. The solution targets my heart but the… disease flows through my blood. The suit is fitted with special sonic reflectors. They activate the solution at my pulse points and all major blood vessels, keeps me going. Plus, it lets me fly.” Tony threw in a friendly smirk at the end.

Peter responded, smiling back.

“Yeah that was pretty cool. What’s the energy source? I don’t recognise it.”

Tony looked at the kid thoughtfully. Did he know he was pressing on the most sensitive topics of proprietary Stark IP?

“You looking to make one yourself kid?” Tony asked.

Again, a light pink colour tinged Peter’s cheeks. “No, of course not. I just… I like science stuff, mechanics, and your suit… I’ve never even read about anything like it. Everything in this house, it’s like it dropped here from twenty years in the future.”

Tony smiled, reluctantly charmed. A healthy appreciation for science – there was something so pure about it. An easy way to get on Tony’s good side.

“I’ll take that as a compliment.” He said with a wink.

Peter blushed harder and averted his eyes. Tony wondered if he realised the sweet, please-take-me-by-the-hand-and-show-me-what-I’ve-been-missing vibes he was broadcasting right now.

Probably not.

“It’s late. Go get some food and get some sleep.” Tony said, a kind but clear dismissal.

“You- you’ll be alright?” Peter asked.

“I’m sure I will manage without you.”

Peter nodded, embarrassed by his question. But that did not stop him from calling out over his shoulder as he walked up the stairs, “drink your juice!”

Tony hid a grin but did as ordered, taking a large gulp of the drink.

“I knew I liked that kid.” Pepper’s voice floated down.

“You were right, as usual. I think I might even like him too.”

Chapter 10: Chapter ten

Chapter Text

Peter woke up feeling much different from yesterday morning.

The strange, temporary world he was in here had been turned on its head. Gone was the mystery villain in the metal suit, replaced with the brilliant, complex, still kind of scary Mr Stark.

Plus he’d been attacked by wolves. Wolves.

He felt like he had whiplash, going from being terrified of Mr Stark shooting at him to the amazing relief of Mr Stark landing like a superhero to rescue him. The feeling of Mr Stark’s suit converging on his arm to form the protective shield had felt surprisingly ticklish, and he could almost feel an echo of the warm arm that wrapped around him and held him tight while he was lifted to safety.

Peter felt like they had found common ground, a tentative bond forming as Peter assisted him with the power core maintenance. The attractive man had even smiled and winked at him.

He did not know what today held, but he tentatively hoped that he would be able to see Mr Stark again and learn more.

After showering and taking just a little bit of extra care with his hair, Peter sat down at the kitchen bench.

“Hi Mr Happy.” He said to the robot.

“Morning kid.” Came the only-slightly grouchy voice in reply.

The arm started pulling out plates of pancakes, eggs and bacon, still piping hot, from the oven.

“What’s all this?” he asked, surprised.

“You had a rough night. Pepper filled me in on the details you didn’t mention.” He explained.

Peter smiled. He cared.

“That’s really nice Mr Happy, thanks!” he happily dug into the spread in front of him.

Peter felt more buoyant and chatty, asking Happy a stream of questions about how long he’d been with Mr Stark, what kind of things did he like to cook, how he spent his down time.

Happy’s generous mood did not last much longer.

“Kid!” he broke through Peter’s story about the time his Aunt tried to make a souffle.

“The boss said you should go down to the lab and see him when you’re done with breakfast. Are you done?” Happy was already clearing away the dishes, letting Peter snatch the last piece of bacon from his plate before it was picked up and dropped in the sink.

“Done! Thanks Mr Happy.” Peter grinned at the camera perched on the top of the arm. “Can I help clean up?”

“Please God, no. Go down to the lab, go, go…” The arm whirred, shooing him away.

Peter gave him a last grin before he left the kitchen. He supposed that naming him Happy was like naming a really tall guy Tiny.

He slowed down as he came to the stairs to the lab, feeling a bit more apprehensive as to what he would find waiting for him. Mr Stark would not ask him down here if he was annoyed with him or in a bad mood, right? He had seemed at least a bit remorseful for his bad behaviour last night.

“Kid, park it over here.”

Mr Stark was back in the suit except for the head. He gestured Peter over to a stool in front of a large touch screen.

Peter sat down, which made him look up at Mr Stark next to him.

“In recognition of the fact that I have been an arsehole, I’m going to make a peace offering. Jarvis is going to give you access to all the files on my work drive. It has specs, blueprints, notes and photos. Find a couple that interest you and we’ll talk about them.”

Peter’s jaw dropped.

If his understanding of Mr Stark’s status and abilities was even half accurate, this was like Bill Gates or Steve Jobs or Stephen Hawking offering up the keys to their kingdom for the day. Even a couple of hours of Mr Stark’s time spent talking about his work would be worth thousands upon thousands of dollars – if the world remembered him of course.

When Peter did not respond, Mr Stark frowned at him and asked, “Didn’t you say you liked science? You might not realise it, but this is a pretty big deal. There’s some seriously cool sh*t on here.”

“O-of course! Thank you Mr Stark. It’s incredible, I really appreciate the opportunity!” Peter exclaimed, wanting to show he was aware just how special this offer was.

Mr Stark snorted.

“Ok relax kid, you sound like a Business major. Just let Jarvis know if you have any particular interests, he’ll point you right.”

With that Mr Stark walked across the lab to his own bench. With a quick tap, a 3D holographic display burst into life, Mr Stark’s uncovered hands tapping and typing at speed, adjusting the array in front of him.

This had to be a dream.

“Mr Parker, is there anywhere you would like to start your search?”

********************************************8

Tony kept up work rendering his models, but progress was slow. He could not stop stealing looks at the kid.

The focus and enthusiasm with which he was pouring over Tony’s files was endearing. He had raised himself so his bottom was not even sitting on the stool, leaning forward to fire a million questions at Jarvis. Tony noticed that he bit his lip when he read something complicated he did not understand. A lot of Tony’s work was complicated, so his lip was slightly puffy and swollen looking, which made Tony look at him more. It was a vicious cycle.

“Tony, incoming.” Came Happy’s voice over the speaker, the dumbwaiter dinging. Happy usually passive aggressively asked Tony if he wanted lunch delivered or if he would deign to come up to his kitchen. Seems like Happy was cordial when he had a guest in the lab.

“Kid, food.” Waving Peter over to the wall opening he would unfold to find lunch.

Tony made his final adjustments before hitting ‘render’, sitting back to let Jarvis evaluate his work. He heard a plate being placed down on the bench next to him and turned to see Peter divvying up the food Happy had sent down for them. Peter gave him a brief, shy smile then carried his sandwich back over to his desk.

Tony looked down at his sandwich. He left the food Happy sent down untouched as often as he ate it, too wrapped up in his work to stop for something as silly and time-consuming as food. He was prepared to do the same today, turning back to his work, when Pepper’s soft voice came out of the speaker of the tablet he had sent up to display the progress Jarvis was making on the latest model.

“Tony, come on. You said you’d talk to Peter and you haven’t said one word. Now you’re going to ignore it when he brings you food?”

Tony rolled his eyes, picking up the sandwich and taking a big bite while giving the in-built camera in the tablet a look as though to say ‘see?’

It was amazing that Pepper still had to ability to communicate through disapproving silences, like the one Tony knew he was in now.

With a roll of his eyes, he picked the sandwich back up and before he could think of all the reasons not to, brought it over to Peter’s assigned work space.

“What have you found so far that’s piqued your interest?” he asked before taking another bite.

Peter looked at him wide-eyed. How long would this boy keep reacting with shock when Tony spoke to him?

“Ahh… um it’s all really interesting sir. I um, I was just reading something you only have a couple of notes on though… Extremis?”

Huh. Probably the most science-fiction thing on those drives. Most of the limited notes were in formulas and brain scans, not spelled out. He was mildly impressed the kid managed to latch on to it.

“That old gem. Actually, the project belonged to an old botanist pal of mine, couldn’t get the funding to work through the initial prototyping though.”

“It sounds so cool, totally science fiction, like a movie! Hacking the brain…” Peter gushed.

“Do people still say ‘hack’?” Tony asked sarcastically.

Peter’s cheeks had already been lightly pink from the moment Tony sat down next to him, but now they bloomed red and he let out a short, nervous laugh.

“You like biology?” Tony smirked at the kid, aware that it sounded like the start of a cheesy pick-up line.

“Umm, I prefer chemistry and mechanics really. It just-“ the kid cut himself off, fiddling with the crust of his sandwich.

“No, go ahead. If it’s really dumb, I’ll only laugh for like five seconds max, promise.”

Peter smiled at this levity. “It reminded me of comic books. Like, kind of mad science? How could anything go wrong when you’re pumping a virus into a human being? Or cross-species genetics, just throw some new DNA strands into the mix and inject it straight into your bloodstream… It’s totally the quickest way to create a superhero or a villain.”

Tony hid his amusem*nt, adopting a sardonic tone. “Is it now?”

“Sure. I mean, actually, nature has all the most amazing advancements and ideas, using plants or animals as inspiration makes the coolest stuff. Everyone knows that.” Peter added in teasingly, shyly smirking at Tony.

He did chuckle now.

“Jarvis, bring up Howard’s notes on Ant Man. You’re gonna love this.”

Tony sat back and watched the kid as he absorbed everything Tony’s dad had collated about Hank Pym’s early experimentations, including the mysterious photos that appeared to have a tiny spec of a man in them.

“WOAH! Is this for real?!” Peter said, spinning to Tony with an earnest expression like he believed Tony held all the answers.

“Unconfirmed. But my take? Yes. Hank Pym was a brilliant man. You’d be amazed at the kind of experimentation that happens behind closed doors.” Tony said with a waggle of his eyebrows.

“The science behind it… I can’t even begin to imagine how it would work! And ants are such a smart choice.”

Tony’s eyebrows shot up then, looking at the kid like he was just the wrong side of eccentric. Peter jumped to his own defence quickly.

“For real, ants are amazing. They can carry like 50 times their body weight and there’s trillions of them, the same biomass on Earth as humans. If you could find a way to control ants? That’s almost as impressive as shrinking down to their size! Next best choice would be crabs maybe, they’re like, peak evolution. You know the quote about evolution trying over and over to make a crab? Or spiders, their web tensile strength is crazy, plus you’d have the venom. Or-“

Peter suddenly cut himself off, looking sheepishly at Tony.

Before he could apologise, Tony asked, “You sure you’re not a biologist? Or maybe interested in zoology?”

Peter looked embarrassed. Tony wanted to tell him not to be – being smart and passionate may not get you too many fans in high school, but it was going to set this kid up for a bright future.

Telling him that seemed too deep in the territory of fatherly for Tony to be comfortable with it though- for multiple reasons.

But this sort of brainpower, sitting right here in his proverbial lap… it was sparking a potential idea for Tony.

“I’ll tell you what kid: you’re here for a while, so you may as well use it. Design your comic book superhero – make him plant or animal based or whatever gets your juices flowing. Think about the kind of technology he would need to do his job, what needs to translate from nature to chemistry or mechanics, what his cool stuff is. Write up some ideas and I’ll take a look at them, see if we can bring any to life.”

It would be an interesting test of the kid’s abilities, and seeing where someone went when they had free reign was probably character-revealing, right?

Peter again looked astonished, his brown eyes wide with both surprise and excitement, his pink lips parted.

Tony grabbed what was left of his sandwich and stood up before his hands could reach out and try to take something that wasn’t his, something he had been missing for years.

“Do NOT pick Batman.” He called over his shoulder.

Chapter 11: Chapter eleven

Chapter Text

Peter was in trouble.

Not the trouble he originally thought he was in, trapped here as a hostage of a crazy super villain.

The kind of trouble where he had a crush on the handsome, eccentric billionaire that happened to be keeping him hostage.

Peter had spent the rest of the afternoon and evening researching in Mr Stark’s lab. At first it sounded like a project for a nine-year-old, ‘design a superhero’. But with the technology Mr Stark had at his fingertips, gadgets that should only exist in comic books might actually be possible and Peter had a whole bunch of ideas.

Mr Stark had been leaning over his shoulder looking at some of his initial concepts when Peter realised he was drifting backwards as though to press against his front, and his breathing was deeper because he was inhaling the delicious scent of Mr Stark’s body wash.

It was not the first time Peter had felt attracted to a gorgeous older man, but it was the first time it had combined with intellectual admiration. Peter not only wanted to crawl in to his arms, he wanted to hear him talk about theoretical physics and quantum mechanics, to hear more about the amazing empire of technology he had once built and ask about what he thought his greatest work was and why. Then he wanted Mr Stark to wink at him again before Peter dropped to his knees.

Even if Mr Stark were anywhere near Peter’s league, and did not have the temper of an unstable dictator, it could hardly be a healthy relationship, trapped and restricted as he was.

But then, as he was sitting at the kitchen bench talking Happy’s virtual ear off about his design ideas, Peter realised he had internet access the whole afternoon but had been too focused to really notice.

He had not tried to access his email or social media or anything, which would presumably be blocked by Jarvis, but… Mr Stark wasn’t matching the image he’d painted of himself that first night.

He had taken the tablet Mr Stark had lent him and worked on specs into the night, not going to bed til late. He was asleep almost as soon as his head hit the pillow.

But it seemed Mr Stark would be dominating his subconscious as well as his waking thoughts.

Peter was in that loopy state of being, only half-awake where your dreams clung to you and you were not able to tell what was happening, what was memory and what was imagined.

Mr Stark’s strong hands were running up his back, pausing to rub his shoulders possessively before moving back down. Up and down they went, their warm weight making Peter feel relaxed but excited. Finally his hands stopped, pausing low on Peter’s hips, drawing Peter back so they were pressed together. Heat pooled in Peter’s belly and goose bumps broke out over his body as he felt Mr Stark’s warm breath on his neck followed by a bristly kiss on his left shoulder. Then he felt Mr Stark grind his hips forward, his hard length pushing against Peter’s rear and a whole body shudder wracked Peter, accompanied by a high moan.

Peter ground his hips down into the mattress, waking up more and more by the second but not wanting to leave the hot dream world.

Peter had not come in like four days, which he told himself excused just how much he was leaking where his erection was trapped between his abdomen and the mattress. He ground down a few more times, trying to hold on to the phantom feeling of Mr Stark’s hard body against his smaller one.

He reached a hand down to grab a hold of himself, not willing to give up the fantasy of Mr Stark pressing him down and sliding his erection over Peter’s opening in order to roll over onto his back to fist himself properly.

Peter panted into his pillow, his hips moving in short thrusts. The man would be totally in control in the bedroom, guiding Peter to just where he wanted him. He would whisper dirty things in Peter’s ear knowing it made him writhe, maybe would even hold him down…

The thought of Mr Stark, still partially in his metal suit, wrenching his hips off the bed and pulling him on to his co*ck while Peter’s arms scrambled for purchase made Peter groan loudly and come, making a mess of himself and his bed as the shudders jolted his frame.

Peter thought idly that Fantasy Mr Stark would absolutely not stop there, he would keep pumping into Peter even once he finished coming. Idly Peter wondered if he had a second round in him this morning, if he could roll over and maybe play with his hole until he was ready to come again. Realistically it would only take a few minutes with the images dancing across his eyelids, but he was not sure if Jarvis or Pepper would be intending to wake him up at any point.

Peter froze, his eyes snapping open as his post-org*sm bliss rapidly dissipated. He had forgotten that in this house, he was never alone.

Jarvis caught everything and it’s not like Peter was trying to be subtle or quiet.

Peter laid in the rapidly cooling wet patch, frozen for a few minutes. He shuffled out of bed like a virgin clutching the bed sheets, obscuring the mess on his belly before hurriedly jumping in the shower.

He still felt a little jumpy as he got ready, not sure if he should ask Jarvis if he had cameras in the room that were always monitored for fear of confirming there was footage of him… loving himself.

He stripped the bed, deciding that he would nonchalantly ask Pepper about new linen this afternoon.

Peter walked down to the lab, stopping at the entrance way.

“Hey Mr Stark! Ahh, am I good to…” he indicated the desk he had been sitting at yesterday.

“It’s your desk now kid, you don’t have to ask my permission.” Mr Stark’s faceplate was up and his dark eyes met Peter’s as his lips quirked up.

Peter felt his face heating up in a blush as he remembered his fantasy from this morning. He ducked his head and walked passed Mr Stark to his workspace, hoping that the man would be too wrapped up in his work to pay much attention to Peter and his embarrassing reactions.

Peter may as well have painted a target on his back.

His shy reaction seemed to intrigue Mr Stark rather than deter him. Peter could feel his eyes on the top of his head which he studiously ignored, though his cheeks still felt warm.

He heard the odd, soft clinking sound that meant Mr Stark was collapsing some part of the nanotech suit. He stole a quick glance through his lashes and saw Mr Stark had entirely dismantled the suit. He bit his lip to stop himself from asking questions but watched silently as he reactivated the suit on the table without him in it and asked Jarvis to commence scanning.

Mr Stark turned around and caught his eye. Peter quickly averted his gaze but knew he had been caught. He looked back up with a sheepish smile to find Mr Stark already smirking lightly at him and strolling toward him. He noted the old band T-shirt and jeans he wore looked strangely casual on the man that seemed so much larger than life.

“Just some routine maintenance.” Mr Stark explained shortly, leaning forward on his elbows to face Peter, only about a metre away.

“How long can you be out of the suit?” he asked curiously, hoping the man did not snap at him for the question.

“Totally out? An hour or two generally before my vitals start to register it.” He said dismissively, as though it were a boring topic.

“But tell me young padawan – what’s got you excited?”

He said it with a flirty smirk and a quirked eyebrow, but Peter’s stomach dropped with dread.

Did he know?

Oh God, what if he did have cameras in the room? What if he had watched? What if he had laughed? Peter thought desperately back to the morning- he didn’t think he had called out Mr Stark’s name, but it was possible…

“Sir?” he asked, sounding strangled.

“Come on, you were sketching all evening, Happy hold me you didn’t even put down the tablet during dinner – the manners of youth,” he chastised jokingly. “What’s your comic book gadget?”

Relief flooded through Peter, his shoulders literally sagging forward as he realised his secret was still a secret.

“OH! My comic book gadget, yeah. Um hang on one second…” Peter said, scrambling to pull up the notes on the iPad and the sketches he had done on real paper.

“… what did you think I was talking about?” Tony asked in a voice heavy with implication, the humour evident in his tone.

Peter did not look up, his cheeks burning as he pulled up the formula he had been messing around with this morning.

“Nothing… It’s ah, it’s here.” He said, shoving the tablet in front of Mr Stark.

“I was thinking about the cool animal stuff, like we talked about, then I remembered this project I worked on for a few weeks in high school…”

“Mmm and when was that, like three weeks ago?” Tony asked absently, not raising his eyes from where he was scrutinising his work.

“I’m 19.” Peter shot back quickly.

Mr Stark looked up at him, perhaps curious about why Peter was practically shouting his age at him after such an offhand comment.

“It’s just – you said yesterday that I was a teenager and…”

“Is 19 not a teenager?” Mr Stark asked with a raised eyebrow.

“Not really. I mean technically, maybe… but I’m not in high school. I have a job – three actually – and I pay bills and plan for the future and everything.”

“So you’re all grown up?” Mr Stark replied drily.

“I, I’m a man…” Peter said, entirely too meekly for it to ring true.

Mr Stark snorted lightly. “Right Mr Bills-To-Pay, tell me about the project. And it better not be frog dissection, surgery bots are notoriously hard to beta test.” He said with a small smirk to let Peter know he was kidding.

“It was this independent project and I was meant to be making an adhesive, but it kind of went a different way? Anyway, I was thinking about spiders and the tensile strength of their webs, and how you said flying was really cool but like, maybe it’s not the only way you could get around off the ground? So I came up with the uh, the web shooter.” Peter finished nervously, afraid that Mr Stark would laugh at his idea, call it lame or basic or tell him that the entire exercise was a joke and he couldn’t believe Peter fell for it, why would Tony Freaking Stark waste his time on-

“I like it.”

Oh.

“You do?’ Peter asked breathlessly.

“Yeah. It’s creative, the formula you have here looks promising, it has tactical potential and most importantly, could look super freaking cool.”

Peter grinned, a short laugh at Mr Stark’s reaction mixed with relief that he did not think Peter was an idiot.

“We should have most of this on-hand in those cupboards, anything we don’t have Jarvis can send out for.”

Peter was still sitting there, grinning at Mr Stark like an idiot.

“Well? Use those mad chemistry skills, bring this… Spiderling to life.”

“Spiderman.” Peter corrected with emphasis.

Tony gave him a playful salute before he turned back to his own workspace, picking up a set of tiny tools and opening up the right leg to make some minor adjustments. Peter realised he was staring at Mr Stark’s back with a dopey smile on his face so he shook it off and bounced towards the cupboards Mr Stark had indicated, ready to gather the key components.

Hours later Peter was doodling across the touchscreen when a shadow fell over him.

“Lunch kid.”

Mr Stark placed a plate containing a chicken salad in front of him.

“Thanks Mr Stark!” he said, trying to hide his surprise. Was lunch together going to become a tradition then? He hoped so.

“I noticed you’re not mixing up some beakers – we short on ingredients?”

“Yeah, Jarvis is ordering a couple of things… is that… are you sure that’s ok Mr Stark?”

“It’s fine kid. Not exactly strapped for cash here.”

“I know, but… you know, with the damage May’s car did… I don’t want to, you know…”

“Be in my debt?” Mr Stark asked, his playful tone giving way to something a little more tense.

Peter just nodded nervously.

“Seriously, don’t worry about it.”

“Is there something I can be working on to help fix what was broken? Instead of doing this?”

Mr Stark waved his hand dismissively before spearing some more lettuce.

“Nope, already fixed.”

“Ok… um, why-“

“What are you plotting here?” Mr Stark cut him off, swivelling the screen around to examine its contents.

“Are you writing an experiment plan?”

“It’s best practice.” Peter defended.

Mr Stark laughed, zooming in to the testing parameters. “Look, you’ve got weight targets! And a whole video element, for posterity?”

Peter swivelled the screen back around, pretending to be affronted by Mr Stark’s teasing but not able to keep his lips from twitching even when a slightly embarrassed flush decorated his cheeks.

“The video element is good though. You should have seen the video of the first flight tests for the suit. Got every angle of every crash covered.” He winked at Peter.

Suddenly Peter remembered his worries from this morning.

“How- how many speakers and cameras are in this place anyway?” he asked with painfully fake nonchalance.

“There’s multiple in every room except the private bedrooms and bathrooms, by request. All the doors are covered though, no blind spots.”

The man sounded a touch suspicious, like he thought Peter might be plotting his escape. He should shut up now, before he annoyed or angered the older man, but he had to know.

“So um, does that mean there’s none in my room?”

Peter had been looking at the computer screen while he asked his questions, trying to make them seem casual. However now Peter could feel Mr Stark’s eyes piercing the side of his head over the long silence.

“…what did you do?” he asked slyly.

“What?” Peter tried to keep a casual tone but was afraid he came across more like a deer caught in headlights.

“What did you do that makes you ask if it was recorded? Are you embarrassed? Let me think, what could have…” Mr Stark trailed off, his grin slipping slowly off his face.

Peter wished in that moment that the ground would open up and swallow him whole. It was humiliatingly obvious what a 19 year old guy alone in his bedroom would be afraid of being recorded doing.

Why did he say anything?

Peter stole a glance at Mr Stark to see his reaction.

His eyes were dark as he studied Peter closely. Peter felt caught by his eyes, unable to look away. Were his eyes always this intense?

Had he been this close a minute ago?

Peter’s eyes darted to his lips, wetting his own with a quick flick of his tongue.

Mr Stark let out a breath followed by a quick cough as he stood upright quickly.

“There’s uh… there is one camera in your room, but the only being that has access to it is Jarvis.”

Peter felt off-balance and so just nodded.

Mr Stark hesitated before he said, “I don’t access it, I swear. Even if I wanted to, Pepper wouldn’t let me.” He said with a tight smile.

“Ok.” Peter accepted, unable to say much more when he was sitting there half-hard.

Oh yes, Peter was in trouble.

Chapter 12: Chapter twelve

Chapter Text

Tony sat up late into the night, which was not at all unusual for him. In fact, he considered himself to be behaving very responsibly if he went to bed at all. But it was not the curse that was keeping him up.

It was Peter.

“Pepper, did you get that packet for me?”

“It is compiled but you should not read it Tony. If you want to find out more about Peter, you should talk to him-“

“Jarvis, shoot it through to me.”

“Yes sir.”

An annoyed huff from Pepper accompanied the ping on his screen as a complete dossier on the kid popped up.

He had Jarvis do some top level searching the first night the kid and his Aunt stumbled up to his home. Just the basics like age, address, police check and medical. But now he wanted to know more. No, he needed to know more. He wanted to find out everything about this young man.

The kid had so much potential, was smart and creative, so Tony started with his school reports and extra curriculars. As he suspected, Peter was playing at a severe disadvantage, the tiny high school in his provincial town having no science program to speak of. A deeper review revealed the science teacher also doubled up with geography and social science. Blerg.

He did find a rather adorable photo of Peter with his arm wrapped around a bigger kid and another pretty girl with a flat expression on her face standing behind a chemistry set with the caption: ‘Science Club’. His eyes lingered on the bright grin on Peter’s face. It looked just like the expression he wore when Tony praised his Spiderman web shooter idea.

He noticed the kid blushing and starry eyed whenever Tony paid him attention but especially when Tony told him he liked one of his ideas. How quickly Peter had turned from a scared, timid thing to a bubbly, sweet apprentice of sorts.

The kid’s potential had sparked an idea in Tony- maybe Peter could be his successor. Tony was on the clock now, his expiry date looming. What he dreaded, only slightly less than Pepper and Happy remaining trapped in code because of him, was the world losing his technology permanently. He supposed that sounded arrogant, but he knew the impact Stark Tech had on the world. Without him to make the (rather impressive) ripple of progress, everything from medical science to communications to national security would be years regressed, and people would suffer for it.

He had gotten wasted and destroyed a lot of sh*t when he realised that most military contracts previously held by Stark Industries had gone to Hammer Industries. Tony did not think the lack of competition with SI would have improved the shoddy designs and inconsistent-at-best performance of his weapons.

Lacking a trustworthy colleague or successor, Tony had planned on anonymously sending some key designs to people distinguished in their fields and leaving the rest with Jarvis. But with this kid, he could kill two birds – not just establishing a legacy but stopping the kid from wasting away.

He saw Peter’s employment records and financials. Worst case scenario he would stagnate in that tiny electronics store then end up in some community college before taking a mediocre job far beneath him. Tony had already considered how he could help him get into MIT, the web shooter being a great head turner. Though Tony had no connections at the admissions office anymore, the kid could probably get in on his own esteem and Tony had the money in offshore bank accounts and other resources to easily pay for Peter’s full ride and beyond.

Tony loved decadence but hated waste, and shuddered at the idea of Peter languishing in an average life when his intellect should be nurtured, his curiosity stoked, his skills groomed… someone has to take him in hand and show him what he could really do…

Tony sighed.

He wanted Peter.

The whole situation was so complicated. Tony wanted to do right by the boy, give him a future he deserved even though Tony had trapped him here. He wasn’t even sure if he was keeping him here because he wanted to protect his (and Pepper and Happy’s) location or if it was because he liked his company and wanted Peter around him.

But one thing was for sure- bending Peter over a bench and making him scream Tony’s name was not going to simplify things.

It was even harder because he knew Peter wanted him too.

Tony rubbed his hands over his face. He didn’t need the line item on the dossier that said Peter was attracted to men to know that. The way the kid looked at him and blushed, the subconscious body language where he leaned toward Tony whenever he was close was telling enough.

Tony did pause over the ‘relationships’ section though.

‘Quentin Beck: Recently terminated.’

A quick search revealed a handsome man in his mid-thirties, a topless selfie from the gym showing he had dark hair, facial hair, worked out and was a total douche.

Well, looked like Peter had a type. Except for the douche part, obviously.

Tony minimised the dossier, switching back to the program of work he was building to take Peter through. He would just have to focus on the tech. He would be like a teacher, a mentor- everything would stay above board and his dick would stay in his pants.

***************************************

The next morning, Tony wondered up for breakfast in the kitchen.

It was purely coincidental that Peter had just sat down at the kitchen bench himself.

“Good morning Mr Stark.” He said, straightening his posture. Tony noted the way Peter’s eyes flicked down his body admiringly, his cheeks going pink already. Tony could pretend he was out of the suit because it was more practical for moving around the house, but the truth was he liked how much more relaxed Peter looked when he was not wearing it. Not to mention how Peter couldn’t help but stare at him out of the suit.

“Hey kid. I was thinking this morning, while you are still waiting for your chemicals, you might want to take a more in-depth look at some stuff. I have a whole thing on hover tech I think you might like.” He said, accepting the coffee from Happy/DUM-E.

“That’d be great Mr Stark! Except… um, I was going to call my Aunt after breakfast, if that’s ok? Only, we haven’t spoken for a few days…”

Tony was filled with shame. He had forgotten about the gag order he had put on Peter.

“Yeah kid, course. Look… that was wrong of me. I’m not going to stop you from talking to your Aunt, you can call her whenever you want. And anyone else, other family or friends… just don’t mention my name or where you are or any details that could even hint at my existence.” He said with a weak smile.

Peter looked at him in shock which was quickly melting into gratitude mixed with something more tender.

God, he was so naïve- he thought Tony telling him he could talk to his loved ones was an act of kindness.

“Just come on down to the lab when you’re ready.” Tony said, walking away with his coffee before the kid could respond.

“Thank you Mr Stark…” was the soft reply aimed at his back nonetheless.

He was a monster.

***************************************

“He’s… kind of great May.”

The other side of the line was completely silent.

“I mean, I know he started off bad. But I think he was scared and it made him angry and he just kind of lashed out? He’s been really nice to me since-“ Peter had no intention of telling May about when he ran out of the house and into a pack of wolves- “he’s really smart and he’s letting me work on this project which is so cool… I’m learning heaps, more than I would at the city college for sure.”

Another beat of silence occurred before May started “Honey…”

“And he told me this morning that I can call you as much as I want, and I can talk to Ned and MJ and everything. After we hang up he says he has a bunch of hover tech stuff he is going to take me through. Hover tech. It’s like being in the second Back to the Future movie except it’s good.” He joked nervously.

But his prattling about how great Mr Stark was did not seem to convince May.

“The fact that he’s being nice to you now doesn’t really change anything, you know that right?”

Peter did not know how to respond.

The truth was, he thought it did change things. He knew what happened when he first arrived here couldn’t be excused by a bad mood, but Mr Stark had been so generous with him since. He was nice, he cracked jokes, he was giving Peter opportunities he could never have dreamed of and treated him like he was special. Was it so bad to like it?

“You are a hostage. You are there against your will.”

“…I guess…”

“No! Peter, baby, I’m not saying this to upset you, I swear. But this bond that you’re feeling with this man? It’s based on a crime. Maybe he really is a nice guy-“ May’s tone revealed just how unlikely she thought that was- “or maybe he’s manipulating you. The fact is that until you are free to come and go as you please, it’s not ok.”

“Yeah, you’re right.”

Peter was not in the mood to chat for much longer. The concern in May’s voice made him feel guilty. She was so worried about him while he had been wrapped up in how much he was enjoying himself.

Peter loitered in his room for a while longer, not ready to face Mr Stark after his conversation.

Eventually though he drifted down to the lab.

“Why the long face?” Mr Stark asked as Peter sedately took his seat at what he thought of as his workspace.

“Oh, nothing.” He mumbled.

“Obviously not, you look like a sad puppy. It’s cute and tragic at the same time.” He joked.

“Talk with your Aunt not go too well?” he asked with an edge of hesitation, understanding it might be a sore topic between the two of them.

“Yeah.”

Mr Stark nodded, leaving the option open for Peter to keep talking or change the topic.

“She said I shouldn’t trust you, that you’re keeping me here and I should hate you for it.”

Well, there it was.

“You should.” Mr Stark said seriously, his eyes meeting Peter’s sombrely.

“I don’t.” Peter responded earnestly.

“I know.”

An oddly charged moment followed as Mr Stark looked at him. When he had Mr Stark’s entire focus like this, Peter felt so nervous. Butterflies crowded his stomach and his palms grew damp. But he also felt an underlying excitement, like the look was a precursor to something good.

“Peter…” Mr Stark said his name so rarely, he held his breath in anticipation of what was next. “I can’t let you go home. Not yet.” He finished, his tone regretful but resolved.

Peter hesitated for just a moment before he answered honestly and in a whisper. “I don’t think I want to go.”

Chapter 13: Chapter thirteen

Chapter Text

“Did you really ask Jarvis what he missed about being human?”

“Shut up! How was I supposed to know he wasn’t like Pepper and Happy?”

It had been almost four weeks since Peter arrived at the Stark Cave (Mr Stark hated comparisons to Batman but always let Peter get away with it) and things were going well. Amazingly well actually.

Peter felt like he was in a bubble. It was another world here, surrounded by futuristic tech and having a seemingly unlimited development budget for his own gadgets and ideas. He still called May everyday and texted Ned all the time, but here with Mr Stark…

He had not said it out loud, but Peter felt like they were friends now. They spent all their time together, ate together, talked about their projects and teased and joked all the time.

Peter still woke up hard and panting every other morning, Mr Stark’s name on his lips, but tried to not let it affect their relationship.

Besides, Peter did not think he was imagining the times he saw Mr Stark’s eyes drift to his lips, or the touches on his back and arms that lingered just a second too long to go unnoticed. He certainly was not imagining the flirting.

Mr Stark seemed to have a personal challenge as to whether he could actually make Peter pass out from too much blood rushing to his cheeks. The heavy innuendos, the cute nicknames, the smirks and winks all combined to make Peter a stuttering mess. When he tried to play along or fire back, it just got worse because Mr Stark’s eyes would light up and he would take it as a cue to escalate. Like yesterday…

“Wait, no girlfriends or boyfriends in high school? I don’t believe it.”

“Hard to believe I know…” Peter said sarcastically.

“It is. Wait til you get to college. All the girls will be crazy about you. And you’d be the sort to pick just one special gal- ask her to go steady, hold hands over malted shakes, give her your fraternity pin…”

Peter gathered his courage to say, “I think I would rather help the ‘hometown boys’ with their experimental phase.”

Mr Stark grinned with delight, like Peter had given him a gift. “So, you’d still be pinning someone, just the more fun kind. Or would you prefer to be pinned...?”

Peter never got the last word but he loved it.

Today they were running the first live tests for the web shooters, but that could not proceed without a healthy dose of Mr Stark pulling his proverbial pigtails.

“How did you picture him?”

“I don’t know, like… tall?”

“Tall? Just a faceless, tall British guy? Where’s the imagination?”

“Maybe like, Tom Hiddleston?”

Mr Stark went from looking teasing to almost offended.

“Tom Hiddleston?”

“Yeah, do you know what he looks like?”

“Do I- kid I’m isolated from people, not from Netflix. He’s a good looking guy…” he was eyeing Peter suspiciously now.

“Yeah?”

“You agree, you think he’s good looking?”

“Yes, he is good looking. And he seems really nice too, I read this thing about him always-“

Mr Stark waved away his further explanation.

“Do you think he’s better looking than me?”

Peter stopped, not sure how to respond.

“Um… you, you’re both attractive…” Peter flushed.

“Fence-sitter!” Mr Stark accused.

“You just want me to stroke your ego!” Peter accused back.

“Well clearly you’d rather be stroking Tom Hiddleston’s...” Mr Stark followed up with a crude gesture.

Peter bit his cheek to stop him from hitting back with which of the men he would really rather be stroking.

“Can we get back to the test?”

“Fine. I just think I have a right to know that you’ve been fantasising about my virtual butler.”

“I’m NOT fantasising about Jarvis!”

“Methinks the boy doth protest too much. In the fantasy, it is actually Tom Hiddleston in person with Jarvis’ voice or is it the all-seeing eye of Jarvis watching you do naughty things to yourself that gets you going?”

The jest landed a little close to home given how many items Jarvis would have actually seen Peter writhing under the sheets. And increasingly, the thought that Mr Stark had access to that footage if he really wanted it got him hotter under the collar than it probably should…

“Ok fine, I’ll picture Jarvis as… John Cleese! Would that be less threatening?”

“Bit of an age-gap there Peter, you’re getting kinkier by the second.”

Peter rolled his eyes but was unable to suppress his grin.

“Maybe I like an older man with a little experience…” he said haughtily.

Mr Stark’s expression turned a little darker, his smirk slowly slipping away before he turned away from Peter, clearing his throat. Peter felt a little thrill – these were the moments he thought Mr Stark came closest to touching him, like he might get caught up in the flirtation enough to act on it.

He never did.

“Stop distracting us with talk of your fetishes. Besides, your objectification is going to make Jarvis uncomfortable, right J?”

“I am sure any man would consider themselves very fortunate if they held the affections of Mr Parker. Though I am not a man and therefore cannot experience attraction, I am confident that any such person would be very foolish indeed to let him slip through their fingers.”

Mr Stark went still by the end of Jarvis’ short speech, looking sternly at one of the corners of the room Peter was sure there was a camera.

Peter was touched by the thought though. “Aw gee, thanks Jarvis!”

“You are most welcome young Sir.”

“Cut the flirting and let’s get to the testing. Helmet?”

Peter rolled his eyes but put on the helmet Mr Stark had insisted he wear for the trial. They had laid out mats across a large area underneath one of the supporting beams in the ceiling of the gym. Peter had drawn the line at a padded suit though.

“Ok go for it Spielberg, this is your show.” Mr Stark said, stepping back.

Peter stepped up on to the platform they had erected about a metre off the ground.

Peter cleared his throat nervously. “Ok. This is Test 17, configuration 4. First swing test with live subject. Attempting in 3… 2… 1…” Peter held his breath as he activated the web shooter, aiming for the supporting beam.

They executed perfectly, his aim true. A couple of feet before the web hit the beam Peter cut the shooter, grabbing the end of the web where it was perfecting positioned over his palm.

The long string of his sticky invention yanked him into the air, carrying him in a long arch over to the matching platform they had made several metres away.

He felt weightless in the air for those precious seconds right before he let go and landed with a tiny stumble on the other platform.

“Woah!” Peter laughed joyously. “Mr Stark did you see that? It worked perfectly!” Peter was over the moon, high on the adrenalin of his three second trip and the sense of achievement of his gadget performing seamlessly.

“Perfect trajectory kid.” Mr Stark said with a grin from across the room.

Peter laughed again, jumping off the platform and backing up several steps.

“Ok, ok. Test 18, swing test with a kinetic launch. In 3... 2…” Peter took off with a running start, jumping on the platform and shooting the web simultaneously. The additional force caused him to travel faster and further, overshooting his landing on the mats. He let out a hoot as he launched the web shooter again, sticking to another beam for a second swing which he was more prepared for, traveling closer to the ground and dismounting perfectly just a few metres away from Mr Stark.

Peter thought he could get easily addicted to the rush and wished they were somewhere with lots of high targets that he could use to swing through the air like he was in sustained flight.

He yanked off the helmet still laughing, bouncing back over to the grinning, proud-looking Mr Stark.

“It worked! Spiderman lives!” he joked exaltedly, throwing his arms around Mr Stark’s neck in a joyful hug. Mr Stark’s arms had come up to hold him, or perhaps more accurately, catch him. Peter leaned back after only a couple of seconds to beam at Mr Stark and spontaneously kissed him on the cheek.

Then Peter caught a look at Mr Stark’s expression.

There was a large element of shock there, which was fair. Mr Stark did not even like to be handed things, let alone have another person invade his personal space without permission.

But he could also see want in his eyes.

It was just a millisecond but Mr Stark’s eyes darted to Peter’s lips only inches away.

Peter knew then that he had only a couple of seconds to make a decision before Mr Stark would pull away. Maybe he would be annoyed at Peter and say something stern about boundaries. More likely he would joke it off and then start talking a mile a minute about the web shooters while putting at least two metres distance between them.

Peter did not want to be distant from Mr Stark. He wanted to stretch this moment out for hours, where Mr Stark’s warm, hard body was pressed against his and his strong arms and big hands wrapped around him like he was precious.

Throwing caution to the wind, Peter leaned in and kissed Mr Stark on the lips.

Chapter 14: Chapter fourteen

Chapter Text

Peter heard the sharp intake of breath through Mr Stark’s nose. The feeling of facial hair sent a tingling sensation right to his crotch, leaving no room for error that this was a man he was kissing.

Peter pulled back after only a couple of seconds, anxious to see Mr Stark’s reaction. Peter looked wide-eyed up at him, desperate for Mr Stark to say something or even better, kiss him back.

“We shouldn’t do this.” Mr Stark whispered.

Still, he did not release Peter, which gave him the courage to say, “But I want to. Do…”

His confidence faltered. Peter bit his lip, mentally telling himself to just ask and let the cards fall where they may.

“Do you want me?”

The question was soft, and Peter felt more vulnerable than he ever had before.

“How could I not? You’re gorgeous.”

The words felt like a flame, making Peter warm all over. He smiled shyly up at Mr Stark, inching closer and hoping he would take the heavy hint to kiss him.

“f*ck kid, you’re making this hard…”

Peter snorted through his nose, giggling slightly at the absurdity of the crude interpretation breaking through the heaviness of the moment.

Mr Stark smirked at his laugh, moving one hand to comb back some of the locks of hair that had been messed up when he was swinging.

Chapter 15: Chapter fifteen

Chapter Text

Tony watched Peter’s face fall, his heartbreak clear on his sleeve. Tony wanted to take the words back, but this is exactly why he had to cut Peter off now.

He should have said this straight away. He should have pushed Peter away as soon as he had kissed him and gently explained all the reasons why they could not start a sexual relationship – and there were plenty.

But Peter had been so happy with how his test had gone, his web shooters working perfectly with his impressive formula. Then he had taken all that energy and excitement contained in that lithe, tight body and thrown it willingly into Tony’s arms.

He was only a man – a man with a poor record for impulse control and a dry spell that spanned years.

“But…W-why?” Peter asked quietly, sounding close to tears.

Goddammit.

“Because I have put you in a f*cked-up situation. Adding sex and feelings… Peter, it’s not only issues of consent. It’s about what’s good for you in the long-term – hell, in the short and medium term too. And that’s not me.”

Peter frowned. “Shouldn’t that be my choice?”

Tony was unable to respond. Tony knew Peter would fight any argument about Stockholm Syndrome or any suggestion that he was less than autonomous.

“And I’m an adult. I know that sex doesn’t have to mean feelings or long-term commitment…” he went on, no doubt oblivious to just how lost and sad he sounded as he said that aloud.

Tony sighed. “You’re a young man with a crush Peter. There’s already feelings.” He said gently.

Peter averted his eyes and blushed fiercely. Tony itched to reach out to him and tell him that any man would be the luckiest bastard on Earth to have Peter like them like that, that he recognised the privilege and wanted nothing more than to shower Peter with gifts and fulfil his every desire in order to keep holding his interest.

But that would be counterproductive.

Peter seemed to rallying.

“Ok. I have feelings for you.” Though his cheeks were still red, he met Tony’s eyes resolutely.

He was a brave kid.

“But they’re not going to go away if we don’t have sex.”

Tony felt a warmth in his chest he had not felt for a long time before he met Peter, but he ignored it now.

“Those feelings will go away with time.” He assured to younger man, averting his eyes like the coward he was. He dreaded the idea of there being a day where Peter didn’t look at him with a rosy smile or the soft, admiring look he thought Tony didn’t see him giving.

“No, they won’t. But that’s my concern.”

Tony decided to come out with the big truth that might actually persuade this kid to keep his distance.

“I’m dying.”

Peter’s mouth dropped in shock, but Tony pressed on, wanting to get it all out cleanly.

“The reason Pepper and Happy are computer code, the reason I have the suit, the ‘condition’ that is affecting my blood… it all comes from a curse, if you can believe that.”

Tony gave a dumbfounded Peter the CliffsNotes of the day Christine cursed him, realising he had been erased from the world, working for years to try and figure out how to cure himself and find a way to make Pepper and Happy human again. He deliberately omitted the potentially curse-ending possibility of finding someone to love and love him in return– that opportunity had come and gone, his every attempt of rigourous compatibility matching and scoping out strong, intelligent potential mates through fake galas, brunches and conferences unsuccessful. He did not want Peter trying to fit that role for a broken man past his cut-off date.

“The deadline was up almost a year ago. I built the suit before that, it slowed the curse down and gave me more time. But it can’t stop the magic entirely.”

Tony lifted his shirt for the first time in Peter’s presence, showing him the black lines that coloured his chest, originating from his heart.

“I’ve got maybe a few months left. That’s why I can’t let you or your Aunt tell anyone where you are or mention my name – if Christine tracks me down, I don’t know if she’ll come here to do what the curse should have done a year ago or if she’ll let it play out. I can’t risk it, because the last bit of time I have needs to be spent on saving Pepper and Happy.”

Peter had tears in his eyes now.

“Maybe… maybe I can help? There’s still time to find a way to save you…”

“No, there’s not. I tried, believe me, I’ve tried everything.”

Tony hesitated before he went on, reluctant to expose Peter to too much at once, but feeling that omitting the next part now would be a further betrayal of trust.

“Peter, I did not want to tell you yet, and I know this is too much to put on your shoulders right now, but I think you deserve to know. I’ve been making plans on what will happen to Jarvis, all the old Stark Tech files, the prototypes and everything in the lab. Lately I’ve been thinking… well, if you want it, it’s all yours.”

Peter did not look like he could take another shock, his eyes still watery as his jaw literally dropped now.

“I don’t need an answer now, but it’s something I want you to think about. You’re the only other person in the world who understands just how much good the work on those drives can do. Jarvis would be there to help you, but there needs to be someone real to bring my tech back to the real world, and to keep creating. The keys to the factory Charlie.”

A few moments of silence followed before Peter spoke.

“So to summarise: you’re dying, you want to give me all of your inventions and IP worth billions of dollars when you do die, you’re in hiding from a witch so you can bring your friends back to life and you don’t want to have sex with me again.”

“Right on almost all counts.” Tony confirmed. “Pete, you know it’s not because I don’t want to. I meant everything I said, you’re incredible… I just can’t let you get invested in me.”

“I need time to think.” Peter said, looking at Tony as if to get his permission.

“Yeah, course. Go for it. I’ll be in the lab if you want to talk, or if you feel more comfortable talking to Jarvis or Pepper, that’s ok too.”

Peter nodded before standing up and walking out of the gym.

Tony let himself fall backwards, covering his face with his hands. Just a little while ago he had a lapful of hard-and-writhing Peter. He briefly wished he had the scruples of his younger self so he could have kept all the bad stuff a secret and just enjoyed his last months on Earth buried in the sexy young man that idolised him.

Damn personal growth.

“Sir, your vital statistics are approaching the orange stage warning.”

Tony sighed. Time to suit up.

“Thanks J. And save that footage from Peter’s trials down would you? Just… edit out the rest.”

“Yes sir.”

************************************

It was hours later that Peter walked into the lab. It was the longest they had spent apart since Peter got there, apart from when they slept.

Tony silently put down his work and watched Peter carefully as he came to a stop in front of him.

“I have some conditions.”

Tony nodded and gestured for Peter to sit like they were in a contract negotiation. Tony could admit – to himself at least – that he was a bit nervous to hear what Peter was going to say.

Peter perched himself on a stool and folded his hands in front of him.

“First, I’ll agree to take responsibility for the Stark Industries designs if Pepper and Jarvis each have an equal stake in ownership and if there are not any restrictions on distributing the designs or prototypes to either industry experts better equipped to execute the design or organisations that may have need of them.” Peter said quickly in a semi-rehearsed speech.

Incredible. Most people would view the inheritance of the sum total of all of Stark Industries IP as a billion-dollar asset that would set them up for a supremely comfortable life. Peter saw it as a heavy responsibility and wanted to make sure he was able to share the technology with the world. He knew Pepper and Jarvis would already have stayed by Peter’s side to guide him, he could have their support without giving up an ounce of power or wealth. But that was not who Peter was.

“Done.”

Peter seemed slightly taken aback by Tony’s quick acquiescence.

“Ok. Ok good. Um, second: if I can help even a little bit with Pepper and Happy, you have to let me.”

“Done. And thank you.” Tony added with a soft smile. This wasn’t a contract negotiation, this was Peter giving away his time and future money. He would have to make sure Pepper led all the negotiations in the future or Peter would bleed himself dry trying to help other people.

“Third.” Peter took a deep breath. “You have to let me worry about my own well-being. I want you, and if you want me back, then we should… be together. Have a sexual relationship.”

His proposition was accompanied by a blush but he maintained resolute eye contact with Tony.

Tony thought for a moment. Of course, he wanted to say yes. How could Peter even question whether Tony wanted him back?

“Do you think you can keep it to ‘just sex’ and not get any more emotionally invested?” Tony asked bluntly.

Peter hesitated for a moment.

“That’s for me to worry about.”

“No, it’s not. Peter… there’s no future with me. I don’t want you to get any more attached when I’m…” Tony trailed off. Somehow saying out loud that he was imminently going to be parted from Peter seemed cruel and painful.

“We’re already going to be spending all of our time together. If you don’t understand what that means to me… look, just think about it like it’s too late. I already have feelings for you. We’ve already had sex, or close enough. What good will denying all that do?”

Tony was wracked with guilt. He was going to break this boy’s heart. Tony wouldn’t be around long enough or under normal circ*mstances to give Peter time to get sick of him or learn to dislike him as everyone else had done in his life. For a teenager, this would become a beautiful, tragic romance with him on a pedestal.

But he knew that the more Peter asked, the closer he was to surrendering. The boy was too kind to use more underhanded but persuasive techniques, like just stripping off his clothes or climbing onto Tony’s lap and asking for it again – Tony would stand no chance then.

“Let’s put in a pin in that. I have a condition too.”

Peter looked like he was about to protest but reigned himself in with a curt nod for Tony to continue.

“I’m revoking the home arrest. You can leave whenever you want.”

Peter obviously did not know what to say, which was a further indictment of Tony’s poor behaviour.

“It was a massive jackass move and taking it back is long overdue. I know you understand why this place is secret, and I trust you not to say or do anything to risk revealing that. So you can visit your Aunt or whatever as much as you like. Or… you can leave for good. That’s up to you.”

Peter looked ready to protest – which was all kinds of screwed up – but Tony continued before he could.

“Jarvis has new protocols to let you in and out, give you money or directions, whatever you need. I’m going to put a car out front and you’ll have the keys. If at any point it’s too hard or too much or you wake up and realise what kind of man it takes to lock up a beautiful teenager and you want hightail it out of here, you do it.”

“If I go…” Tony felt a painful twang through his chest at Peter’s words though he kept his expression guarded. “Will I be able to come back? Will the energy barrier stop me?”

“No. You’ll always be welcome here, Jarvis will make sure you can come and go whenever you like.”

“Thank you.” Peter offered sincerely, looking at Tony softly who was helpless against staring right back. Before it could turn awkward, Peter tapped his hands on the bench, standing up as though ready for action.

“Where do we start?”

Chapter 16: Chapter sixteen

Chapter Text

Peter lay in his bed, trying to organise the chaos of his thoughts.

The day had started so wonderfully, his web shooters working perfectly, the sensation of flying blending incredibly with the feeling of being in Mr Stark’s arms.

Then he was rejected and the man he admired so much was going to slip away in just a few short months.

He supposed the fact that Mr Stark was… dying should not come as a surprise. ‘Blood toxicity’ being constantly monitored was not a habit of a healthy man. But Peter just assumed it was all under control. Mr Stark was so capable, surely he could fix anything?

But this was magic. How awful to find out there was magic in the world only to realise it was a disease, a fatal affliction that would take away the man he admired, far before his time.

Peter couldn’t bare to think of what was coming.

Maybe it would be better to leave. That way, the last few weeks would be like a dream, a crazy, wonderful, strange dream. May would certainly support that decision.

But Peter knew he was far too invested to seriously consider walking away.

He had a responsibility to learn as much as he could about Stark Tech, to bring it back to the world and truly do good. No one would know, but lives were literally at stake if he chose to walk away.

Not to mention the thought of leaving Mr Stark alone here and denying himself the wit, intellect and unique charisma of the man was unthinkable. Peter was painfully aware of the dull, mediocre days that were on the horizon for him, he certainly did not want to fast track them.

Peter was staying.

He would be at Mr Stark’s disposal. Hopefully in every way…

It was a lot more fun to think up seduction scenarios than dwelling on the gut-clenching reality of the curse, so Peter thought hard of teasing touches and soft pleading as he drifted off to sleep.

************************************************

Peter and Mr Stark were clustered together over a screen attached to a microscopic camera, Mr Stark explaining the finer detail of how the nanotech picked up signals for building custom structures like a 3D printer.

Mr Stark had decided the best place to start was the most advanced technology. His argument was that there was no point going backwards, he’d teach Peter the newest stuff and if there was time left they could do a history lesson.

Mr Stark was a great teacher, passionately explaining technology from top to bottom. He set a fast pace but encouraged Peter to ask questions to clarify what he did not understand. When Peter asked an intelligent question, Mr Stark would look impressed and smug like Peter was already proving his worth as heir of SI (despite there being no other candidates).

“It was nanotech you sprayed on your arm that night you were hurt, right? How do you make sure they stay sterile? Can they target arteries to stop blood loss?” Peter was already imagining the potential for nanotech in emergency rooms.

“You’re talking about Project Inside Me. The solution that sits behind my arc reactor is a purifier, and its activated by the sonic waves, right? I’ve been trying to find a way to merge the three – send nano into a wound coated with purifier to prevent infection or blood poisoning, maybe construct temporary bridges for arteries or tears. Then use the sonic force on a specific wavelength, with a magnetic home dock, to call the nano home, resterilise then go to the next patient. There’s a neurosurgeon I’ve just started corresponding with in New York, Dr Strange. Pure theory and conjecture so far, I think he believes we’re bout fifteen years away from the technology,” Mr Stark winked at Peter. “But I’ll loop you in as my pretend doctoral student. The guy is an arrogant dick, but smart. Almost as smart as me.”

Mr Stark smirked at him again. He seemed to take a lot of joy in sharing his work, which was so incredible and certainly not doing anything to turn Peter off his ‘must have him again’ path.

But for all he was being friendly and warm, Mr Stark was not touching him the way Peter liked. Gone were the casual touches on the back, the flirty nudges and even friendly claps on the shoulder.

Peter found himself distracted, thinking about whether he should instigate. Mr Stark had not answered him yesterday about their relationship. He did not want to be the creepy, pathetic stalker that couldn’t take a hint… but Mr Stark really seemed to like what they did yesterday?...

“Kid? You listening?”

Peter jumped slightly, embarrassed to have drifted off when they were doing something so important.

“Sorry! I got distracted.”

“Yeah I got that. Do you need a break? Is the nanotech stuff too much for you?”

“No! No I love it, it’s really interesting and I have a million questions.”

“Well what are you waiting for Trebek? Shoot.”

“Are you not touching me because you don’t want to, or because you still think I should not want to be with you and are trying not to encourage me?”

Ok, clearly this was not the question Mr Stark was expecting. He would never be as unguarded as to actually look like a deer caught in headlights, but it was a close thing.

Peter actually heard him swallow before he responded.

“I thought it would be the mature adult thing to do to create some more professional boundaries. A bit of distance might be good for you.”

As he spoke he stepped away from Peter, which was even worse than the side-by-side-but-not-touching protocol that had been ruling the day.

Peter stepped after him, closing the gap.

“I don’t want ‘distance’ from you Mr Stark.”

He saw Mr Stark’s nostrils flare as he looked at Peter.

“Please touch me. I love it when you touch me.”

Mr Stark rubbed a hand over his face. “f*ck, why did you have to be so sweet?”

Peter took that as an encouraging sign and reached out to hold on to the front of Mr Stark’s shirt. When he did not move away, Peter rocked up on to his toes and kissed the corner of his lips softly. He nervously tipped back, wary of Mr Stark pulling away to give him another speech about how they should not be kissing.

It did not come.

Mr Stark brought both his hands up to cradle Peter’s face and kissed him deeply. Peter moaned at the sensation, pressing his body up against Mr Stark’s to feel his body heat.

Mr Stark couldn’t seem to get enough, tilting his head to ravage Peter’s mouth and pressing him back so the edge of the bench was digging into Peter’s lower back. Peter couldn’t control his whimpers as Mr Stark’s tongue ran against his own. He shivered as Mr Stark’s hands slipped down his body to grasp his hips. Mr Stark released Peter’s mouth long enough to urge, “jump up baby, on the bench.”

Peter did as he was asked, with Mr Stark’s hands on his hips boosting him. As soon as his bottom hit the hard surface, Mr Stark’s hands drew possessively down to his thighs, firmly parting them so he could step up between Peter’s legs. His hands maintained their firm hold on Peter’s thighs as he captured Peter’s lips again.

Peter wrapped his arms around Mr Stark’s neck, using his grip to pull them closer together. As he did so, his rapidly hardening co*ck pressed against Mr Stark through their clothes, Peter letting out a small groan at the new-found friction.

Mr Stark withdrew, looking down at Peter with dark eyes. He moved his hot grip further up Peter’s thighs.

“God, three words from you and every promise I made to myself disappears. How am I supposed to protect you from me when you look so good, hard and desperate under my hands?”

Peter thought distantly that he should be put off my being called desperate, but it described how he was increasingly feeling.

“Please, Mr Stark please…” he said, tugging at his shirt and chasing his lips.

Mr Stark’s hands went to the band of Peter’s pants, hooking his fingers in. “Lift.” He instructed.

Peter scrambled to get a hold of the bench and push himself up. Peter’s pants and boxers were tugged down his legs quickly and tossed carelessly behind Mr Stark. Peter noticed the cold feeling of the benchtop as his bottom came back down but was far more interested in the hungry gaze Mr Stark had fixed on his flushed co*ck.

“You want me to touch you baby?” Mr Stark’s hand wrapped around his dick, stroking it confidently. Peter gasped at the sensation, moving forward to grip Mr Stark’s shoulders.

“Shirt off, let me see you.” Came the next instruction, Peter jumping to comply. Embarrassingly, his uncoordinated movements meant his head was briefly stuck in the opening, but he blamed Mr Stark for twisting around the tip of his erection and making him jump and moan.

“There. Lean back a second, let me see you.” Mr Stark directed him to recline on his elbows, his teasing touch on Peter’s erection never ceasing. With his other hand he posed Peter how he wanted, spreading his legs another couple of inches before trailing a hand up his abs to thumb at this hard nipples.

Peter dropped his head back with a whine, the admiring gaze of Mr Stark and touches overwhelming. But there was something else he wanted.

“Is it…” he did not know how to ask for it.

“Baby?” Mr Stark kept up his leisurely stroking, his other hand coming back down to gently cradle Peter’s balls, causing a brief distraction and a few beads of precum to drip out of the tip of his achingly hard co*ck.

“Am… am I…” Peter blushed, going even redder than he already was. He wanted so badly to hear it from Mr Stark, but it felt mortifying to ask.

“…good?” he finally bit out, watching Mr Stark bashfully from beneath his lashes.

Mr Stark let out a heavy breath and smirked wickedly at him.

“You’re so good baby. My good, beautiful boy. So eager to do what I want, want my hands on you so badly.”

Peter bit his lip, his stomach clenching at the words. The sound of Mr Stark calling him good pushed him right to the edge, his breath coming in pants and whines as he tried to hold out for as long as he could.

Mr Stark’s hands left him a moment later. Peter snapped his eyes open and was about to ask what was wrong when Mr Stark’s hands wrapped around his wrists, urging him to sit back up.

“You’re so perfect, so sexy, you need to see what you do to me.” Mr Stark said, pushing his own pants down his hips.

The bench height almost aligned their hips, giving Peter the perfect view of Mr Stark’s hardness as well as his own. Mr Stark was bigger than him. His mouth watered at the memory of his perfect girth inside Peter’s mouth.

Mr Stark took Peter’s hand and urged him to wrap it around his erection.

“You get me so hard. This is all for you baby.”

Peter let out a broken moan in response, his eyes glassy as they fixed on the visual of his pale hand between them wrapped around Mr Stark’s flushed co*ck.

“I want you to get us both off. Use those clever little hands, makes us both feel good.” Mr Stark urged. He shifted so their dicks were aligned and guided Peter’s hand around both of them.

“Mr Stark…” Peter choked out, watching his own dick twitch and leak onto Mr Stark’s.

“You can do it baby.”

Peter was so close to the edge he felt shaky, but he did not want to let Mr Stark down. He worked both of them, the feeling made even more exquisite by the low groan he elicited from Mr Stark.

Mr Stark was not keeping his hands to himself though, groping Peter’s thighs and arse, nipping at his neck in between encouraging words.

“I- I’m, Mr Stark… ahh, can’t…” Peter did not finish his warning before he was spilling over his hand and Mr Stark. He cried out, momentarily drowning out Mr Stark’s praise about how perfect he was.

His rhythm faltered so Mr Stark took over, establishing a rougher, quicker tempo than Peter’s.

“Gorgeous.” Mr Stark said as he tilted Peter’s head back with his spare hand and took his mouth, kissing him messily.

Peter felt light-headed, grasping on to Mr Stark’s front as he was ravaged. It was perfect.

Soon though Mr Stark had to relinquish his lips as he groaned Peter’s name and org*smed, Peter tilting his head so he could watch.

After a moment Mr Stark let out a light chuckle.

“What?” Peter asked with a smile, happy to see Mr Stark in a light mood that seemed to match his own floaty feeling.

“Is this what you meant by ‘touching’? Because this was very much out of scope of my ‘professional boundaries’.” He said with a smirk.

Peter blushed lightly. “It’s not what I meant but I am not complaining about the results.”

Tony smiled at him fondly, leaning forward to lightly kiss his still smiling lips.

“Can we keep doing this?” Peter blurted out.

Mr Stark looked a bit more serious now.

“Work has to come first, we shouldn’t do anything in the lab.” He warned, not fully answering Peter’s question.

“But we can be together?”

A slightly pained look entered Mr Stark’s eyes before he blinked it away.

“I don’t think I ever really stood a chance. We still need boundaries, but yeah – for as long as you want to, we can do this.”

Chapter 17: Chapter seventeen

Chapter Text

Tony could fill a book with words that suited Peter. Sweet. Generous. Smart. Adorable. Sexy.

Temptation. Eager. Insatiable.

Addictive.

Tony’s rule about not having sex in the lab lasted all of a couple of hours. Peter would look at him with such naked want, a sweet, yearning expression making him highly distracting. Tony justified that the quickest and most effective way to get them back on task and focused was to give him an org*sm. Feed the libido and it will slumber for a while.

He forgot what it was like to be a teenager. And he underestimated his own passion.

Now they were taking sex breaks like meals: regular, three times a day.

That did not stop their desire for casual, sweet touches throughout the day. Tony had tried to hold off on the passing affection for fear that it would make Peter view him increasingly as a boyfriend. Best to keep it purely in the sexual arena in Peter’s mind, sexy boss-employee or teacher-student style. Forbidden, temporary.

But he found it was a reflex to flirt and brush against Peter, and the way he lit up under the warmth of Tony’s approval and casual touches made it feel cruel to withhold it.

Unfortunately, Tony could get carried away. Five minutes ago, Peter had successfully amended a string of code Tony wrote for the nanotech housing unit to read temperature (another one of Peter’s ideas) and Tony squeezed his shoulder encouragingly.

“Perfect. Couldn’t have done it better myself. Literally, your solution is better. Making me redundant already.” he said proudly.

Peter had looked so pleased that he let his hand linger. And then he allowed Peter to shuffle not-so-subtly closer to him. And then he pretended to seriously consider Peter’s bogus suggestion that he take the suit off so they could integrate the pilot temperature-and-injury-sensing batch for trial.

And now here they were, still an hour away from their allotted sex recess, with Peter dropping to his knees and pawing at the fastening of his pants.

Tony was already hardening, as Peter could probably feel as he nuzzled his cheek over his still covered groin. He got Tony out of his pants and started touching his dick like it was something to be worshipped. He was practically massaging it with spit-slick hands, lathing his tongue around the head.

Tony spoke dirty words of encouragement all the while. He noticed the immediate affect praise had on Peter. It worked him into a frenzy, making him needy in the most appealing way.

“f*ck, you get me so hard. Talented little tongue, f*cking amazing…”

Peter was breathing heavier already, wide, hungry eyes looking up at Tony.

He buried his hands in the boy’s soft brown curls when he finally took Tony’s now-hard prick into his mouth. The wet heat made Tony groan, the sensation further improved by the feel of Peter’s tongue travelling over the underside.

Tony was helpless against the urge to watch, tilting Peter’s head slightly so he could get a good angle on the way his pink lips stretched around Tony’s girth.

“Perfect…” he purred as he stroked a hand over Peter’s cheek before returning it to his hair.

Peter’s glassy eyes turned more determined, the bobbing of his head more aggressive. Tony could feel more and more of his length sliding into Peter’s mouth and he knew what he was up to.

“You’re trying to take me all the way, aren’t you?” he whispered huskily.

Peter couldn’t speak, his mouth full, but looked up at Tony as though pleading for his help. He moved both his hands to hold Tony’s hips, urging him forward. Tony groaned.

He figured he had a few options. First, he could talk Peter out of it and expose himself to the sad puppy eyes of disappointment. Second, he could let Peter gag himself as he tried desperately to stuff Tony way too quickly down his throat. Third, he could coach him through it so Peter would be safe and accomplish what he had clearly set as a personal goal. Option three also let him come down the throat of the pretty young thing he’d been secretly fantasising about for weeks, so it was the clear winner.

Tony spent the next couple of minutes telling Peter to relax his throat and breathe deeply, stopping him from trying to take it all too quickly. He ran his hands over his stretched jaw and down his throat.

“You’re doing so good… I think you’re ready now. You want it?” his voice was gravelly from being on edge for so long.

Peter nodded where he had drawn back to hold just the tip of Tony’s co*ck in his mouth before taking a deep breath and bobbing down. He swallowed as the head hit the back of his throat, and just like that, Tony was nestled snugly in his throat.

He threw his head back with a groan and felt the vibrations run through him as Peter let out a satisfied sound of his own. His hands clenched in Peter’s hair as he twitched his hips, testing out Peter’s reaction.

“f*ck you feel unbelievable…” he crooned as he moved again, Peter taking the hint a drawing back before diving forward again. The obscene sound of him swallowing Tony’s length again and again paired with the inspiring visual of his tearing eyes and tousled hair made his balls draw up.

“I’m gonna come.” He gritted out the warning, wanting to let Peter choose what happened next.

He should have expected Peter’s reaction. He swallowed desperately around Tony’s co*ck, his nose nestled in the curls at the base of his dick as he sought to cradle Tony in his entirety when he came.

It was insanely hot.

Tony grunted and felt Peter’s throat tight around his pulsing co*ck, shooting his come so deep Peter wouldn’t even taste it.

“God! Good boy, good boy, nnghhh take it so good…” he mindlessly chanted, grinding himself into Peter’s face and hearing the muffled chocking sound as he still tried to work Tony through it.

Eventually his org*sm waned and Tony withdrew. Peter was a mess, panting roughly on his knees. His lips were puffy, his eyes were red and desperate looking. Tony could make out a tear track down his right cheek.

Tony dropped to his knees in front of the boy, cradling his jaw gently now.

“Are you ok? Was it too much?” he asked, concerned.

Peter shook his head, whimpering as he clutched Tony’s arms before looking down.

Tony followed his gaze and saw the impressive tent in Peter’s trousers.

“Aw baby, you need a hand? You’ve been so good, taking such good care of me. You deserve to feel good too… you look so amazing when you come, my gorgeous boy…”

Peter whined as Tony cupped him through his pants and a moment later Tony felt him twitch and a damp patch slowly soak through his clothing. Peter hiccoughed and practically fell into Tony’s waiting arms, his hips jerking against Tony’s hand.

Tony drew him into a gentling kiss, darkly pleased by how overwhelmed Peter had been.

It was probably a good thing that they had sex exclusively in the lab. It kept things dirty and quick – no time for Tony to lay Peter out and edge him or drag him through multiple org*sms, and no time for Peter to bask in the afterglow and cuddle up to Tony sweetly. No time to think of what they could be.

On one hand, Tony could see himself being the monster Peter and his Aunt had imagined he was, carrying Peter to his bedroom and tying him down so he could spend the rest of his days devouring him and listening to the sweet sounds of his cries and begging.

But equally, Tony was tempted to shower him with gifts and affection, to make sure he had all the best toys in the lab to keep him happy and set him up for a life of luxury and pampering. He wanted Peter to know he could snap his fingers and Tony would be there to worship him, show him every way he could feel pleasure and whisper in his ear about incredible, precious and good he really was.

So, Tony would not take Peter to bed. He would preserve that final layer of protection, for both of them.

***********************************

Peter had learned in his short life that happiness was typically followed by tragedy. He had been a happy child living in a comfortable and loving home – then his parents died. He had lived with his kind Aunt and Uncle, finally feeling secure and happy again – then his uncle died. He and May had clawed their way back to a semblance of happiness – then he was held hostage. And when that turned out to be a crazy, wonderful turn of events that put him in the orbit of the single most brilliant, talented and attractive man he would likely ever meet – that man had only months to live.

It was hard to be an optimist when you have lived through the things Peter had. But if there is one silver lining that all the loss in his life had taught him, it was that the pain is inevitable and being miserable in-between the Bad Things did no one any good. He supposed that’s what people meant when they said ‘better to have loved and lost’ – the author certainly captured it better than his rambling thoughts.

But what it ultimately meant was that Peter was determined to be as blissfully happy with Mr Stark for as long as he could before he lost him forever. He would not spend the rest of his life thinking about the moments he could have been with him but chose not to, the lost lessons, the missed kisses…

He wanted to make love to the man. Properly. In a bed.

He just had to figure out how to get Mr Stark there without triggering his Protective, you-must-not-love-me complex.

They had spent the morning with Mr Stark catching Peter up on all of the top possible solutions he had for Pepper and Happy. Unfortunately, the best leads were incredibly dark.

Peter felt tears pricking at his eyes as Mr Stark glossed quickly over his plan to stop his heart long enough to be technically dead and see if that retrieved their human bodies before Mr Stark was revived with an adrenalin shot.

The one where Mr Stark hooked himself up to a rapid and total-body blood transfusion to try to purge the curse for a couple of moments, long enough to trigger Pepper and Happy’s revival, was almost as distressing.

The one that was most likely to give them a semblance of a human body again was in the work Mr Stark was doing (under the pseudonym Dr Howard Potts) with the talented Dr Helen Cho. She had a concept called the ‘regeneration cradle’ that could (theoretically) generate human tissue. It was not yet operational, let alone ready to generate a full human body, but with Mr Stark’s help she was making leaps and bounds.

But Peter had to ask the obvious question.

“Did you try to speak to the woman, Christine?”

Mr Stark was not particularly forthcoming about it.

“Yes, a few years ago. She was not receptive.” was all he would say.

The mood was pretty dark by lunchtime, so Peter manhandled Mr Stark upstairs to the kitchen for a ‘family lunch’. It was entertaining to watch Mr Stark interact with Pepper and Happy, their closeness shining through in the way they joked and spoke bluntly to each other.

“Kid, he tell you about the race car he used to own?” Happy asked.

“No!” Peter turned to Mr Stark for an explanation, his eyes twinkling in amusem*nt.

“Oh I had all the toys. I loved that thing – Ferrari, hot rod red. Tweaked the engine myself.” He bragged.

“If only you had thought to use the brakes instead of just the accelerator.” Was Pepper’s dry response.

“What did you do?” Peter asked.

Mr Stark rolled his eyes and it was immediately apparent to all of them that the next words out of his mouth were going to be bullsh*t. Happy jumped in to give Peter the full and true story.

“He totalled it. He interrupted a race, decided he just had to drive the car himself. But this is a guy used to driving Lamborghinis around the city, right, not a race circuit with a dozen other cars going 130 miles an hour.”

“He made it two laps before he got co*cky and tried to play chicken with another car for the inside track.” Pepper added.

“You crashed it?!” Peter asked, eyeing Mr Stark as though checking for injuries he knew were long healed.

“There was a small altercation with the wall, yes.” Mr Stark said with a sniff.

“It did three full rotations through the air.” Happy added.

“It was all perfectly safe.” Mr Stark defended.

“The car was on fire.” Pepper added.

“My protective guards, impact-absorbent helmet and flame-retardant material did everything I designed them to do. Walked away with barely a scratch.”

“You had a concussion! You thought my name was ‘Grumpy’.”

Peter snorted indelicately, snickering at Happy as Mr Stark smirked at his amusem*nt.

“You got blood and vomit on my open toed Jimmy Choos.” Pepper accused. “And you needed eight stitches.”

“Where?” Peter asked.

Happy snorted.

“Right cheek. He got a plastic surgeon to consult and everything.”

Peter frowned, studying Mr Stark’s face. He had never noticed a scar, and surely a cut requiring eight stitches would be visible even with a plastic surgeon’s intervention?

“Wrong cheek.” Mr Stark winked.

Peter burst out laughing.

“It healed up nicely, actually…” Mr Stark’s hands went to his fly, as though to show them all his battle scar. Peter reached out to stop his hands, still chuckling.

“No thanks to these two. If memory serves, you both refused to kiss it better! What kind of employees…”

“Tony if I ever voluntarily kiss your arse, I’m the one with the head injury.” Said Pepper.

Peter laughed for a few minutes more as Pepper launched in to another story about Mr Stark almost getting punched by an angry husband (punctuated by Mr Stark’s comments about how he absolutely did nothing to deserve it) while Happy loaded up Peter’s plate with even more food.

He wished these days could stretch out forever.

Chapter 18: Chapter eighteen

Chapter Text

Peter had a plan.

Well, he had the beginnings of a plan.

More of a concept really.

He waited until after dinner, when he and Mr Stark were covering a few last things on the arc reactor. It was approaching 9, which was usually around the time Peter left the lab to do some more reading in his room before going to bed. Typically Mr Stark stayed up and worked on the suit, the drug that might combat the curse, or called Dr Cho in South Korea. Peter respected the routine because it gave them a couple of hours apart, time for Mr Stark to get into his projects without Peter in his hair.

But not tonight. Peter knew he had no call scheduled and Jarvis was still running simulations on a few potential elements they had brainstormed that afternoon to potentially flush the curse out like chemotherapy.

He was actually taking a page out of Beck’s book now. It was a simple three stage process that always worked on Peter – kiss, then lap, then move somewhere ‘more comfortable’.

Mr Stark was telling the story of how his father had originally conceptualised arc reactor technology as he sat on a stool to disassemble a prototype to show Peter. Mr Stark set himself on one of the sturdy stools he had adapted for when he was wearing the suit - which he was not wearing now. Peter saw his chance and stepped into the space between Mr Stark and the bench so Mr Stark would have to cage him in his arms to work, and half-leaned half-perched on his thigh as he faced the arc reactor.

Mr Stark paused for one second, but then dropped a kiss on the side of Peter’s neck and kept talking. It actually was fascinating so Peter allowed himself to be distracted from his goal for a few minutes as Mr Stark explained the workings of the casing.

“But you don’t just want to watch me play with parts, do you baby?” Mr Stark finally purred, pushing the arc reactor off to the side when his demonstration was finished.

“No.” Peter said almost shyly, craning his head to the side to let Mr Stark kiss down the pale column and pull his shirt to the side to give himself better access.

Mr Stark used his other hand to run over the front of Peter’s pants, palming him through the material. Peter let out a sigh, leaning more of his weight against the older man trustingly. Mr Stark impatiently tugged at the bottom of his shirt, parting them just long enough to pull it over Peter’s head and swivel him around on his knee so he could kiss Peter properly.

He raked his nails lightly down Peter’s back, causing him to shiver and moan lightly. His hand then gravitated to Peter’s waistband, but before Mr Stark could strip him completely naked, Peter reached into his front pocket to retrieve something, holding it concealed in his palm.

Mr Stark pushed down his pants, standing them both up and helping Peter kick them away. His eyes then caught on Peter’s closed palm.

“What have you got there?” he asked the blushing boy curiously.

Peter opened his hand to reveal the small bottle of lube he had (mortifyingly) asked Jarvis to help him find earlier that afternoon.

Mr Stark’s nostrils flared and he snapped his head up to fix his intense, wanting stare on Peter’s face.

Peter bit his lip, gathering the courage to ask Mr Stark exactly what he wanted. He quickly pressed the lube into Mr Stark’s hands, feeling his hot gaze not once leaving his face.

“Finger me?” he whispered in a soft voice, face bright red but erection not wilting where it brushed against Mr Stark’s still dressed form.

Mr Stark did not respond verbally, clashing his lips against Peter’s in a hard kiss, propelling Peter back until his back hit the bench hard.

“You are…” Mr Stark panted, trailing his lips over his neck with harsh nips. “…f*cking incredible. Asking for my fingers, you know what that does to me? You feel what you do to me baby?” he asked filthily, pressing his rapidly hardening co*ck against Peter’s naked belly.

Peter whined, “please, please Mr Stark…”

Even though he had said it was alright to call him Tony, Peter could not bring himself to. He was ‘Mr Stark’ to him, plus calling him ‘Mr’ when they were having sex sent a thrill down Peter’s spine that he did not know how to describe to the other man.

Mr Stark cursed, kissing Peter roughly one more time before spinning him around by his waist so he was bracing himself on the bench with his back to Mr Stark. He heard Mr Stark pop the cap off the bottle and he shivered, pushing his bottom back a bit, waiting for his fingers.

“Eager…” Mr Stark said. Peter spread his legs more in response, feeling the wet trail of Mr Stark’s finger grazing over his entrance.

“Yesss,” he hissed, ready to feel Mr Stark press inside.

The tip of his finger pressed in gently, slowly massaging the tight pucker of his entrance to ease his way in. Peter groaned, caught up in the feeling of Mr Stark’s finger pressing all the way into him.

“What a pretty sight. You’re taking it so well sweetheart, I knew you would.” Mr Stark said, making Peter pant and clench down on the digit inside him.

“Mmmm, you want more?”

Mr Stark withdrew and pressed back two fingers, slowly working them in and out of Peter, going further each time.

“So good, feels so good Mr Stark…” he panted.

“You feel so good baby, so tight. Your hot little hole is made for this, isn’t it?”

Peter was leaking now, much closer to org*sm than he had anticipated from just two fingers. But Mr Stark’s words and his hot breath on the back of his neck was making him sweat, whipping him up like always.

“More, please, one more.” Peter begged.

“Already? So greedy. Let me stretch you first.”

Mr Stark started a scissoring action with his fingers, pumping them in and out wetly and crooking them to find Peter’s prostate.

Peter cried out when they hit gold, bending fully over the bench so Mr Stark could pump his fingers into him deeper.

“Good boy, knows just how to take it.” Mr Stark said huskily, his fingers still sending sparks down Peter’s spine. “You still want another or are you gonna come all over my countertop?”

This reminded Peter of his original intentions. He dug his fingers into his palm, hoping the pain would distract him enough to get the next part out.

“Mr- Mr Stark, please, I want you to f*ck me.”

The fingers paused for a second, giving Peter previous relief to collect his thoughts and hold off his imminent org*sm. “Please, I want to come with you inside me, I want you to- to fill me up. Please…”

He sounded more broken and pathetic than seductive, but based on Tony’s broken groan, he figured it was enough.

“Peter…”

With Mr Stark’s fingers still buried in him, Peter shakily righted himself.

“Please Mr Stark. Take me to bed?” he asked breathily.

He craned his head back over his shoulder, looking pleadingly at Mr Stark. He looked aroused but torn, a frown creasing his brow.

“If… if you don’t want to…” he started, feeling both embarrassed and disappointed.

“Oh I want to, you have no idea how much…” Mr Stark assured him, withdrawing his fingers and squeezing Peter’s hips.

That bolstered Peter’s confidence enough that he turned in Mr Stark’s arms, wrapping his arms around his neck.

“If we both want to, why aren’t we in bed already? I want you in me now…” Peter said, letting all his neediness show as he rubbed himself wantonly against the older man.

Mr Stark cursed under his breath.

“f*ck, how is it you get me to break all the promises I make to myself? You are pure temptation…”

With that, he hoisted Peter up so his legs were wrapped around his waist. Peter clung to Mr Stark as he walked them up the stairs out of the lab, Peter trying to imitate the appealing the way Mr Stark would nibble on his neck and earlobe.

He walked them briskly to Peter’s room, dropping Peter on the top of the covers. He was panting slightly from exertion as he dropped the lube on the bed next to Peter then hurriedly stripped off his own clothes.

Peter welcomed Mr Stark into his arms when he covered Peter’s naked body with his own. They lost themselves in a deep, filthy kiss, their erections brushing together.

Mr Stark wrenched himself back suddenly, sitting back on his haunches and grabbing the lube to slick his fingers up again.

Peter moaned loudly when he dove straight back into him with two fingers, scissoring him open.

“God, you know how often I’ve thought about this, about stretching you open on your bed? I’ve lost sleep knowing there’s footage of you in this very bed, getting yourself off, just sitting on my servers. You do this to yourself? You try to fill yourself up with just your fingers?” Mr Stark asked obscenely.

Peter threw his arms over his head, desperately holding on to the pillow as he whined at Mr Stark’s words and panted at the sensation of his fingers pumping into him, brushing his prostate every third or forth pump, enough to drive Peter crazy but not enough to make him come.

“Tell me, what do you do here? What do you think about?”

Peter struggled to find his breath, let alone words.

“I… you, I think about you… aannnhhh Mr Stark!” Peter cried out as he nailed his prostate hard before adding a third, wet finger to his pumping.

“Good boy. And do you do this?” he asked unrelenting, shoving his fingers in deep.

“Sometimes… I- I can’t get… deep… it doesn’t feel the same, it doesn’t feel this good.” Peter admitted, his words slurring like he was drunk.

His dick was dripping on his own abdomen at this point, ready to come as soon as it was touched.

“Now please, I’m ready!” Peter pleaded.

Both of the men had done a blood test a couple of weeks ago when Mr Stark was showing him some more of the medical prototypes, so Peter knew they were both clean. Which was great, because he had no desire to use a condom, nor had he wanted to ask Jarvis about it.

“I want to watch you.” Mr Stark said as he slicked himself up and lined himself up with Peter’s hole that felt so achingly empty.

Peter nodded desperately, gasping slightly as he felt the blunt head of Mr Stark’s erection resting against him. He took a deep breath as Mr Stark slowly pressed in, his eyes rolling back in his head as the feeling of fullness overwhelmed him.

Mr Stark took his time, working himself in slowly, grunting with the effort not to thrust forward and just take the younger man.

“f*cking exquisite… baby, you feel so good, gonna make me lose my sh*t way too soon… beautiful boy…” Mr Stark’s tone was strained but he couldn’t seem to help the stream of words coming out of his mouth.

Peter let out a choked-off sob as he felt Mr Stark settle in him fully.

“Perfect baby, such a good boy, taking me all the way so nicely…” Mr Stark crooned as he kissed Peter’s neck and slack lips.

Peter felt so precious and warm from his praise, so proud of the fullness where they were joined, nerves all over his body sparking. He knew he was only going to make it a couple of thrusts, but he couldn’t connect his brain to his mouth clear enough to tell Mr Stark. He could only make soft little panting moans.

“Relax baby, I’m going to move soon, give you what you need. Going to make sure my perfect boy gets what he wants, make you feel so good…”

Peter wanted to tell him he already felt so good, but could only gurgle a broken whine in response.

Mr Stark rubbed his belly soothingly, avoiding his aching dick until he felt Peter was adjusted to his length.

He started testing him out with a couple of gentle thrusts, making Peter arch at the perfect tug and stretch of his hole. He kept his hands on Peter’s body the way he knew Peter liked as his thrusts grew more ambitious, Mr Stark drawing back so only the tip remained inside Peter before thrusting back in.

Peter’s moans turned to soft cries as Mr Stark started moving.

“Let me see your beautiful eyes baby…” he asked Peter.

Peter slowly blinked open his glassy eyes, immediately fixing on the beautiful form of Mr Stark as he leaned over Peter, covering his whole body in his shadow.

Mr Stark gave him a crooked grin as he thrust again, glancing over his prostate.

Peter let out a desperate cry, quickly moving his hand to grab the base of his dick to stop himself from coming, but it was too late. Peter was spurting a millisecond before his hand reached its target, his back arching involuntarily. He could feel his hole clenching around Mr Stark as he twisted and sobbed his pleasure, his vision going white.

He distantly heard Mr Stark cursing above him, his grip on Peter’s hips turned bruising before he realised his strength and smoothed his hands up and down Peter’s sides.

Peter came back to himself listening to Mr Stark tell him how beautiful he was, how he was so good and felt so amazing. Peter’s limbs felt heavy, but he clumsily reached one hand toward Mr Stark, who lowered himself to let Peter cradle his face and bring him down into a kiss.

*************************************

Tony took lead of the sweet kiss, holding himself still where he was still buried in Peter’s tight heat. The younger man was the first to pull away from their kiss when he clenched lightly around Tony.

“Hang on, I’m gonna pull out.” Tony said gently, already mourning the loss of the feeling but unwilling to be the cause of discomfort for a likely over-sensitive Peter.

“No…” Peter whispered breathily. “Keep going, I want you to come in me.”

Tony was sure Peter could feel the twitch of his co*ck at his dirty, whispered words.

“Baby, if you’re too sensitive it’ll hurt.”

“I’m ok, I want it. Just don’t touch my dick yet.” Peter negotiated, bringing his legs up with some effort to wrap around Tony’s waist.

Tony, with a level of self-control he thought was to be congratulated given how long it had been since he was buried inside a warm, enthusiastic body, gave a few careful thrusts to test Peter’s resolve. He closely watched Peter’s face for any sign of pain or discomfort, but all he saw was bliss.

Tony thrust harder, and after only a few moments, was groaning as he pumped hard and fast into Peter.

Peter was a mess, head thrown back as his pretty pink mouth open and uttering whines and moans, his dick filling back up. Tony was panting through a long stream of filth. He was always one for dirty talk, but the way Peter responded to his voice made it all the more appealing.

“So greedy, want so badly to be filled up… you light up with me inside you, don’t you baby? This is what you wanted? You’re such a good boy for me, so clever, you deserve to get what you want…”

Peter’s eyes were squeezed shut and was now biting his lip so hard Tony was worried he would hurt himself. Tony took his face in hand and pull on Peter’s abused lip, making him release it.

“There. Have to keep your lips nice so they’re ready whenever I want them,” Tony spoke nonsense, leaning down to press a couple of fast kisses on Peter’s mouth.

Tony could feel himself getting close, so he moved back to hook Peter’s slim legs over his shoulders before leaning back over him, the new angle letting him pound deeper. Peter cried out, curving his body to press back against Tony’s movements. He raised his hands from where they were clenched behind his head in his pillow to hold on to Tony’s biceps, squeezing them where they flexed form holding up his weight.

Tony grunted. “I’m almost there, you’re… argh- gonna make me come… You still want it in you?”

Peter was already nodding his head frantically.

“Please, please…” he whimpered.

Tony cursed as his thrusts turned erratic and harsh before he finally buried himself deep inside Peter and felt his org*sm take over. Tony ground his pelvis against the younger man’s backside, his brain in primal mode, ecstatic to be marking him from the inside out. Tony captured Peter’s lips again, his messy kiss turning into Tony just panting into his mouth.

He felt Peter shift from where he was almost crushed under Tony. One hand kept a hold on his bicep as if to hold him in place while the other slipped between them. Tony felt Peter’s knuckles brushing his abdomen as Peter took a hold of himself and started jerking his co*ck quickly.

“That’s it, my perfect boy…” Mr Stark murmured.

“Mr- Mr Stark, please…” he didn’t seem to know what he was asking for, so Tony took his cue to run his lips down Peter’s neck with a healthy dose of teeth, his facial hair scraping until he found the spot just above his shoulder that drove Peter crazy and sucked harshly, working a hickey onto the porcelain flesh.

“Ahhh! Mr Stark, hngghhh!” Peter cried out and Tony felt two things simultaneously. First was the splash of warmth as Peter painted both of their stomachs with another couple of streaks of come. Second was the way his channel clenched around Tony’s spent co*ck still inside him, Tony groaned from the sensation and bit at Peter’s neck as he wished he was young enough to get hard again quickly and keep f*cking his beautiful, responsive young lover.

Tony reluctantly released the skin of Peter’s neck, noting the inflamed patch would probably come up in a bright bruise the next day. He gave it an apologetic lick, even though he was secretly looking forward to seeing Peter walk around with his neck marked up.

Eventually, and against Peter’s protests, Tony drew himself out and off of Peter’s body. The temptation to roll to the side and drag Peter over so he could cling like a limpet and enjoy post-coital cuddling was strong.

But that was not ‘just sex’.

Tony had to be strong for both of them. A short term hurt now would save Peter more grief in the future.

That was what Tony told himself as he rolled himself off the bed and slipped on his pants. He could not leave Peter laying there with sweat and come drying on his body, so he quickly slipped into the bathroom and wet a washcloth. When he brought it back, the soft, fond smile Peter gave him made his will falter.

But he pressed the damp cloth on to Peter’s belly and quickly removed his hand before Peter could cover it with his own.

He grabbed his shirt, feeling Peter’s questioning gaze following his every movement.

“I should – I’m going to jump back in the suit and try to drum out some more code for Jarvis to integrate into his simulations. Good ah, good work today.”

With those awkward words and with Peter’s bewildered stare fixed on him, he walked out of the room.

He leaned on the wall next to Peter’s door he had just closed, letting his head thump back against the hard surface.

Every fibre of his being wanted him to go back in that room and hold the gorgeous young man laying there, probably confused and disappointed.

But the image of Peter laying in that same bed weeping once Tony was dead, remembering the tender moments they could share there, made him remember the reason he was trying not to let their relationship expand from fast, steamy encounters in the lab.

He rubbed his chest which suddenly felt cold and made his way upstairs to shower before he could head back to the lab and work through to the early hours.

Tony had had a lot of tantrums, anger, fear and anxiety over the curse in the past eight years, but he didn’t think he had felt as bitter and regretful about it ending in his death as he did in this moment.

Chapter 19: Chapter nineteen

Chapter Text

Peter imagined that this was kind of what whiplash felt like.

For a short, blissful time, Peter had exactly what he wanted. He got to feel Mr Stark inside him, to hold him as they made love in the luxurious bedroom Mr Stark had given him.

He had never felt like this. With Beck, the sex was good, hot and satisfying – but there was always an underlying feeling of not right. It was like eating junk food or getting drunk, where he knew he was going to regret it and feel worse afterwards, despite how great it was in the moment.

With Mr Stark… it felt almost too right. He admired everything about Mr Stark, lost himself in the older man’s touch so completely. For the few hours they weren’t together a day, Peter thought about him. He found comfort in working quietly together in the same room, even if they did not speak for hours. He felt like the best version of himself when he was with Mr Stark, like he was smart and capable and desirable, like he could do almost anything.

He guessed that was what happened when you loved someone.

Peter wasn’t sure if he would tell Mr Stark how he felt. It was possible, if not likely, that Mr Stark would martyr himself out of a sense of guilt and push Peter away. Or maybe he would feel smothered by Peter’s unwanted feelings and their relationship would turn stilted and awkward…

Peter was not in a very sharing mood anyway, not after the way last night had ended.

He had been confused by how out of character Mr Stark had been after they had made love – jittery and unsure was about as far from the norm for him as possible.

Then he had walked out.

Peter had been left feeling cold and alone.

Did he do something wrong? Mr Stark had seemed to enjoy himself as much as Peter had…

Peter had shuffled into the shower, cranking the heat up higher than usual to compensate for the cold, empty feeling inside him. He let a few tears slip out as he stood under the spray.

It had been so good, but now he was alone.

Was this how it would feel when he was truly gone?

Peter choked back a sob at the thought.

*******************************************

The next morning, Peter lingered for longer than normal in his room, still unsure about how Mr Stark would be with him today after their odd parting last night.

Luckily, the phone Mr Stark had given him started to ring.

“May! Hey, what’s going on?” he answered loudly, looking forward to the distraction.

They were on the phone for ten minutes, Peter telling May about some of the work he was doing there and May catching him up on the town gossip.

May never really lost the tone of worry when she spoke to him. Peter felt guilty that he had not told her he was free to leave. He did not know how she could react if she realised he was choosing to stay. She would probably worry more, and he could not stand to hurt her…

“Honey, there’s something else. Quentin Beck had been asking about you.”

“Really?” Peter was surprised. He rarely thought about Beck and assumed that since he was not around to sleep with anymore, Beck would have all but forgotten about him.

“He’s been asking a lot. He used to check in every now and again, but now he’s getting really antsy. I think he suspects something is wrong. I was thinking maybe you should call him, let him know I haven’t buried you somewhere in the forest?”

Peter let out a short laugh. “Sure May, I’ll text him now. I love you, talk to you tomorrow.”

“Love you too honey.”

After May hung up, Peter went through the drawer for his old, crappy phone. He powered it up and found Beck’s number, typing it in to his new phone and sending off a quick text.

“Hey Beck, May mentioned you were wondering how I was? Just hanging out in Wisconsin, cell service is really crappy ☹ hope you are well 😊 – Peter.”

May had told anyone in the town who asked that he was staying with his ill great-uncle on his property in rural Wisconsin, helping out with chores and things until they managed to sell the property. No timelines, not sure when he would be back.

About thirty seconds after he pressed send, the phone lit up with an incoming call from Beck’s number.

Peter hesitated – he was not a good liar, talking was not going to be in his favour. But he thought it was a nice that Beck was worried about him, he didn’t want to worry the man unduly. Plus, it was pretty easy to fake a text from a new number, so Beck may need reassurance that this was actually him. He picked up.

“Hello?”

“Peter, is that really you?”

“Yeah, hey Beck. How’s it going?”

“Peter I’ve been worried sick. You take off in my car and the next morning the keys are on my doorstep and I don’t hear from you for months? How could you be so thoughtless?”

Peter felt bad – it had honestly not occurred to him that Beck would be worried.

“I- I’m sorry, really. It’s just my great-uncle got sick so quickly, it was all kind of a whirlwind you know? And I only get cell service like once a week when I come into town…”

“Your service sounds pretty good right now.” Beck grumbled.

“Yeah uh, I’m doing a supply run?” Peter cursed his upward inflection and hoped Beck would have no follow-up questions.

Beck sighed loudly. “You should have called me.”

“I’m sorry.” Peter apologised again. Had Beck always been this pushy? He supposed it was understandable if he had really been worried for so long…

“Baby, what are you even doing out there? Looking after an old sick relative, that shouldn’t be on you. You’re young, you should only be worried about having fun…” he needled.

Peter did not know what to say.

“Uh… well, there’s not really anyone else…” he said slowly.

“Hmmm. So is it just you up there with the old guy? No strapping young farm hands to keep you entertained?”

Peter shifted where he stood.

“Ah, no, just me.”

“You must be pretty lonely then.”

“Umm, not really? I’ve been reading and stuff…” he said lamely.

“Do you have an internet connection? Or a landline?”

“Uhhh yeah but they’re really spotty? They’re only really for emergencies.” Peter tried to explain away.

“I’d say your mental health is pretty important, worth using the bytes. I want you to start calling me, or at least messaging me when you get back.” Beck said.

Peter had a slightly uneasy feeling.

“Um I- I might not really have a chance to? Sorry…” he cringed.

“You can make it work Peter, you’re a smart guy. You don’t want me to worry about you, do you?”

“I’m ok, really!”

“I won’t believe that unless I hear it from your lips more often. Plus, you must be getting lonely, especially at night. I’ve been told I’m good to talk to, I have a nice voice and a good imagination…” his tone was suggestive.

Peter was shocked. Beck was trying to get him to commit to having phone sex from his fictional great uncle’s farmhouse?

“Ahhhh Beck um, I don’t think we should ahh… you know? We said we were just friends?”

“You said there was no one else, didn’t you?” Beck’s voice turned sharper.

“No, no-one.” Peter spoke quickly, though Mr Stark’s face came immediately to mind.

“… are you lying to me Peter?” Beck’s voice was suspicious and more cold than he had ever heard it.

“No!” even to Peter’s ears, the response was strangled and not believable.

There was a beat of silence on the other end of the phone.

“Ah they have my groceries ready! I’ve got to go. Um, I’ll text you in a few days ok? Bye!” Peter quickly ended the call.

He paced by the desk, feeling unsettled as he watched the phone light up with three missed calls from Beck in as many minutes. Once the last one rang out, he quickly went through the settings and ordered to phone to send him straight to voicemail in future. Hopefully that would convince him Peter was out of range.

Peter tried to shake it off, putting the phone down and heading for the lab. Suddenly he was keen to be in Mr Stark’s distracting and comforting presence, regardless of any weirdness that may still be between them.

*******************************************

Mr Stark had welcomed him warmly and proceeded to act like nothing had happened the night before.

Peter had no idea how to broach the subject or even what he wanted Mr Stark to say, so went along with it.

Peter spent most of his day working through the specs for the Stark Phone. Most of the content about satellites and relays for boosting signal went over his head, so he bookmarked it to talk to Mr Stark about later. Right now Peter did not want to disturb him as he was working through a progress report Dr Cho had sent him on the Cradle.

After lunch, Mr Stark called him over to talk about Dr Cho’s concerns.

“The problem is that a properly organic, human body can’t be coded with Pepper or Happy’s consciousness. We need to come up with a way to implant the chips that contain their code into the brain in a way that will let them control all the functionality of their new form.”

Mr Stark showed him the map of a body and all the key nerve centres and parts of the brain Jarvis and he had simulated would need a chip and the extensive list of functionality each would need.

Peter felt overwhelmed. There was no way this was getting done in Mr Stark’s lifetime, which meant he was in charge of this work once he was gone. He would continue it, he would willingly dedicate years to helping Pepper and Happy, kind, wonderful people, get their lives back. But this was all so much bigger than him. He was not smart enough for this, he didn’t know the first thing about neurobiology and…

“There’s also an issue of the material. We need a substance that will be resistant to interference, won’t degrade overtime and is compatible with the tissue in a way that will facilitate the nervous system upload.”

…and he had to invent a new material to do it all in?

This was worlds away from his web-shooter-level skills.

“Mr Stark, I… I don’t know…” Mr Stark turned to look at him, his expression immediately changing when he saw the distress on Peter’s face, his breathing heavy.

“Hey baby, it’s ok…” he wrapped an arm around Peter’s shoulder and urged him to sit on the couch nearby.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to overwhelm you. I just thought you would be interested.”

“I- when you… when it’s just me here and I have to bring back Pepper and Happy… I don’t know about any of this! How am I going to do it?” he asked in a high voice, tears welling in his eyes.

“Hey, you won’t be alone Peter. This is Dr Cho’s life’s work, she’ll be blazing the trail here. Jarvis knows every inch of this project and what we’ve tried over the years. There are people like Dr Strange and Dr Banner who are experts in all the areas you need. You’re not going to be responsible for this, ok?” he said, soothingly rubbing Peter’s back.

“Peter…” came Pepper’s calm voice from above. “Happy and I don’t expect you to fix this. It might not ever be fixable, and that is no one’s fault.”

Peter saw Mr Stark grimace from where he sat beside him.

Peter slowly nodded his head. That was the sad truth. This was magic and they were trying to beat it with new science. Maybe they could do it. But the reality was, they probably wouldn’t. At least, not for a few decades.

Peter felt terrible, and he had only known Pepper and Happy for a little while. He reached over and squeezed Mr Stark’s hand. From all accounts, these were the two people in the world he was closest to, had spent most of their adult lives together. It must be so much harder for him.

“Let’s take a break.” Mr Stark said.

Peter’s eyebrows shot up.

Mr Stark never took a break, only what he had to for meals and sleep, and even then he did not stop for as long as he should.

Peter watched as Mr Stark stepped out of his suit then let the man lead him upstairs and into the kitchen.

“Happy, where do you keep the good stuff? We need it.”

Peter watched as Happy pulled out candy, soft drink and bags of microwave popcorn he put in the microwave.

“I’ll bring it to you when it’s ready boss.” Happy said of the popcorn. Mr Stark saluted him and indicated for Peter to grab an armful of the snack food and follow him.

They ended up in the den where Jarvis was already pulling down the big screen.

“What do you want to watch kid? Pick anything, just make sure it’s not a romantic comedy. No war movies either. And if you could make it something produced before 2001, that would be appreciated.”

Peter still felt bewildered as he thought about a movie that Mr Stark might like.

“Uhhh… um, how about Star Wars? That’s pretty old?”

Mr Stark grinned at him. “Empire Strikes Back?”

Peter smiled back at him. “Perfect.”

Consuming mounds of sugar and buttery popcorn, listening to Mr Stark pick apart the science of the movie while telling him why Star Wars was one of the greatest cinematic triumphs of all time, all while snuggled under the arm Mr Stark had slung around his shoulders, did wonders for Peter’s mood.

Peter was still smiling as the end credits rolled, so closely wrapped around Mr Stark he was practically in his lap. He felt safe and adored, which gave him the confidence to say:

“I enjoyed last night.”

Mr Stark paused his stroking of Peter’s arm for a moment before he fell back into the rhythm.

“Yeah? Me too. You weren’t too sore after, were you?”

“No.” Peter murmured, hiding his blush. “Can we do it again?”

He heard Mr Stark swallow.

“I dunno Peter… having someone inside you doesn’t really pair with the ‘emotional distancing’ thing. Adding beds and sleepovers…” Mr Stark was shaking his head.

“You think it changes things? If we have sex?”

“Does it?” Mr Stark looked at him with a piercing gaze.

“No.”

It was true. Peter was in love with Mr Stark before they made love last night.

“It’s just another thing we can do together to feel good. I… if you like other things better, we can do them instead. I don’t mind.” Peter assured him.

Mr Stark reached out to stroke his cheek gently, Peter leaning into the touch.

“There is one thing…” he started.

“Anything!” Peter said eagerly.

The next twenty minutes melted Peter’s brain.

First, Mr Stark hoisted him into his lap and got him rock hard kissing him and moving Peter’s hips to grind down on the older man.

Next, he was laid out on the couch, his pants disappearing quickly and watching Mr Stark’s warm hand wrap around him for a few expert strokes.

But after that Mr Stark pulled away, moving Peter to flip him onto his stomach.

Peter was confused until he felt Mr Stark’s breath over his hole.

“Oh God…” Peter had only ever seen this in p*rn.

The feeling of a hot tongue swiping over his entrance made Peter jump.

By the time Mr Stark had wriggled his tongue inside him, Peter was a shaking wreck, tears and whines spilling forth as Mr Stark gripped his hips hard to stop him from grinding back onto his face.

Mr Stark roughly moved him on to his knees so his backside was pointing up in the air.

“You taste so good baby, I have to get deeper…”

Peter lost the friction against the couch but had no doubt that the sensation of Mr Stark’s facial hair against his sensitive skin as he was opened with sucking kisses and firm strokes of his tongue would make him come without any further assistance.

He was right.

After another several minutes of desperate begging and moaning, Mr Stark let a finger join his tongue and the combined sensation had Peter shooting untouched all over himself and the couch.

“Nnnnnghhhh Mr Stark, Mr Stark, ahhhh! God please…” Mr Stark continued the wicked movements of his tongue as Peter writhed, drawing out wave after wave of come until he felt weak.

Mr Stark rubbed and squeezed him as he caught his breath.

“Oh God…” he moaned, still feeling shaky.

“My pretty boy…” Mr Stark murmured as he kept running his hands over Peter’s exposed rear.

“I can get hard again.” Peter slurred. “You can f*ck me.”

Mr Stark let out a slightly disbelieving chuckle.

“Tempting, truly. But I need to get back into the suit.” He did sound disappointed but Peter couldn’t help but wonder how much of that decision came back to ‘emotional distance’.

Mr Stark helped Peter to stand up and stretch out his weak legs. Peter looked at the mess he’d left on the couch with embarrassment, but Mr Stark waved him away.

“The drones can steam clean the whole thing, don’t worry.”

After awkwardly pulling on his pants, Mr Stark shooed him off to shower while he went on to the lab. Peter again felt a pang of disappointment that Mr Stark was trying to not be close to him outside of the actual act of sex.

Later that night, when Peter would shyly ask if he wanted to join him in bed for a while, Mr Stark would make excuses and kiss Peter on the forehead before saying goodnight.

It felt like he was slipping away from Peter already.

Chapter 20: Chapter twenty

Chapter Text

It was clear to Tony now.

The kid was The One.

Tony could not get enough of him. He was so sweet. Tony had beautiful young men enamoured with him before and it had always been appealing, albeit for a short time. It seemed that every time he had Peter, every time he saw him come undone, just fuelled his desire. The way he responded to Tony’s touch drove him crazy…

And it was not just the sex. The kid was brilliant. He was a sponge for knowledge, had a great flair for creative problem solving and could create as well as understand complex ideas, like with his web shooter. Plus, he was not afraid to question things; questioning the assumptions on which something was designed was the mark of a great scientist.

He wished it were two years ago. He thinks he might have had a chance at the true counter to the curse if it had crossed over with Peter’s arrival…. ‘love and respect someone and have them love you in return’.

But all of that was useless, wishful thinking.

Tony pushed all of his emotions deep, deep down – it might not be healthy but when you had a curse spreading literal poison through your body in dark black lines, a bit of emotional constipation was not as big a deal.

He and Peter had a good morning in the lab, despite the puppy dog eyes of Peter who was still disappointed that Tony would not take him back to bed.

They were laughing over some stupid science puns – a favourite past time of Peter’s – before the younger man’s expression slowly turned more thoughtful.

“What’s with the face kid?”

Peter looked more confused now.

“It was just… I’ve been thinking… I can’t understand why anyone would curse you.”

Tony looked at him, surprised.

“You’ve only been exposed to Tony Stark Lite for a couple of months – and need I remind you it started with me kidnapping you? Believe me if you had more time, especially with the younger version of me, you’d get it.” Tony remarked glibly with a smirk.

Peter did not laugh it off.

“No, really. Even if you made some bad choices or had a bad temper…” he gave Tony a stern glance. “You’re a good person. Cursing you to die is just… awful.”

Tony paused and looked at Peter sombrely now.

He needed a serious answer. It was only fair, having been dragged into this mess and being that he would be inheriting the fall out.

Tony cast his eyes down as he started to explain.

“I used to be all about the science. Creation. I was good at it and I made a lot of money for it… I was limitless, unchecked. I made things because I could. I sold things so I could make more.”

“But uh… it turns out that when it’s weapons you’re creating and selling… it’s not a victimless crime. What was an experiment for me was lives of soldiers and civilians in another country. And it wasn’t just weapons – you’ve seen the files. The potential for abuse, violations…”

Tony sighed.

“A lot of the stuff I did, I didn’t really understand until after I was cursed. And most of it was only fixed by wiping me off the face of the Earth. Maybe you were all better off for it.”

“No. I don’t believe that.” Came the impassioned response from Peter.

Tony looked at him sadly. “Kid…”

“I’ve read all about your creations, weapons and all. The progress you made, what you contributed to health, education, transport, communications as well as national security. Mr Stark, you saved lives. You made people’s lives better.”

“But at what cost? You don’t think a weapons manufacturer is responsible for how his weapons are used?”

Peter paused before he said carefully.

“’With great power comes great responsibility’. My Uncle Ben used to say that. I guess maybe it means that… if you can create the kind of things you can Mr Stark, its your responsibility to do it. Maybe you didn’t always get it right, but I don’t think its about being perfect. I think its about trying to do better.”

Peter leaned forward with his big, sincere brown eyes fixed on Tony.

“What you’ve taught me, what I’ve seen of your plans for- for what happens next… that’s exactly what you’re doing. There are safeguards for responsible distribution of anything with the potential to be weaponised. You’ve made it better. And the world will be a better place from having Stark Tech in it.”

Tony was moved by Peter’s trust, his certainty that Tony was not the bad guy. He knew his eyes were glassy though he did not let a tear fall.

Maybe this was the ultimate purpose of the curse, the good to come out of it. Even though he was so young, Tony trusted Peter implicitly to do the right thing. He saw the technology in a way Tony never had in his younger years. Peter thought not just about how the technology functioned, how he could pack in cool and innovative features, but what it could really do- its potential to impact people’s lives.

Peter was the one that would make the world a better place.

Tony desperately wished he could be by his side as he did.

“You’ll do better than I ever did Peter.”

Peter gave him a sad smile.

“I wish I had time to live up to the image of the man you think I am.” Tony admitted quietly.

Peter’s breathing was hitched and his eyes red as he pushed himself over the bench and wrapped his arms around Tony’s neck in a hug.

They stood there fore several long minutes, Tony returning the embrace and rubbing up and down Peter’s back as he felt the dampness of Peter’s tears on his shoulder. He hated being the cause of Peter’s tears, but quietly appreciated that there was one person who would mourn him, especially one as good as Peter.

***********************************************

Late that evening, Tony was looking for some food to soak up some of the alcohol he had knocked back after Peter had gone to bed alone.

He heard the whirring of DUM-E’s base unit. He sighed, turning around to look at Happy.

“I need carbs.” He whined.

“Sit down, I’ll make you a sandwich.”

Tony did as instructed, flopping on to a stool that groaned under the weight of the suit. He accepted the bottle of water Happy pressed into his hands with DUM-E’s arm.

“Did I ever tell you how sorry I am that I did this to you?” Tony asked, growing maudlin.

“Every time you have a drink.” Happy replied.

“I’m trying to fix it…” he murmured into his water.

“Boss, I gotta ask. This kid… doesn’t he fix it?”

“I’ve introduced him to Dr Cho and he’s learning everything he can-“

“No, I mean how he’s in love with you.”

Tony turned wide eyes on Happy.

“Come on, it’s obvious to anyone with eyes. Hell, I don’t even have eyes and it’s obvious. And you seem pretty into him too. You’ve never spent this much time around someone that wasn’t me or Pepper without getting bored. He’s got a pretty face, a dorky sense of humour and got the smarts for your brain kink.”

Tony continued to look at him blankly.

“And don’t think that hickey the size of Texas on his neck has gone unnoticed.”

“I- it’s just sex…”

“C’mon Tony, you don’t believe that.” Happy said softly.

Tony covered his face with both hands.

“It doesn’t matter now. We’re past the deadline. It doesn’t matter how much he loves me, or whether I love him, it wouldn’t… it doesn’t work.” He muttered miserably.

Happy was quiet then.

It was so unfair. For all of them.

***********************************************

Peter got ready for bed sedately, his mind preoccupied with his conversation with Mr Stark. It broke his heart to hear the man talk like he was toxic, to hear his belief that the world was indeed better off without him.

He felt tears welling in his eyes again, but this time they were mixed with anger.

That woman, Christine… how could she? It was torture, pure and simple, a campaign to wear down every part of Mr Stark to nothing.

“Sir, my scans indicate you are in distress. May I fetch Miss Potts for you?” Jarvis asked.

Peter nodded, getting up to pace his room.

A moment later, Pepper’s voice filled the room. “Peter, what’s wrong?”

“I- I’m so angry I could just scream.” He said, still pacing with tears blurring his vision.

“About what honey?”

“Mr Stark.”

“What has he done?”

“No, he didn’t do anything. It’s what was done to him, to all of you. It’s not fair!” Peter angrily wiped away tears.

“He’s a good person. I know he made weapons, but the military were always going to get weapons, he just made the best ones. He did so much good too. And now he thinks he didn’t. He’s filled with guilt and doubt and he doesn’t deserve that.”

Peter stopped, sinking to the floor against his bed. It was a reflection of his first night here, however now his tears were not for himself, but for Mr Stark.

“How could someone curse him and just make him suffer for years without hope? How could they not even give him a way to fix it?”

For a moment he thought Pepper might have left, but then her gentle voice returned.

“There was a way.”

Peter looked up, confused.

“What do you mean?”

He listened to Pepper’s full description of the curse. “Learn how to truly love and respect another and have them love you in return.”

Mr Stark had said there was no way to break the curse. That he had tried everything.

“Why didn’t he tell me?” he asked in a small voice.

“Honey… I’m sure he thought he was protecting you.”

Peter was hurt. He was angry.

He leapt to his feet again.

“He… God, he is such…”

Peter’s spluttering was interrupted by a trilling of his phone. May was calling. He was in no headspace to talk to her, so he grabbed the phone and sent her to voicemail.

“Didn’t he think that I… he said I couldn’t help…”

Again, his phone rang. Again, he hit sent it to voicemail.

“How could he lie to me? How could he throw away the perfect solution? He knows I would do anything…”

His phone sounded again, this time with a text message.

‘911! Call me IMMEDIATELY’ from May.

Peter felt his mood shift from hurt confusion to dread, quickly hitting ‘call back’.

“May?! Are you ok?”

“Yes honey, yes I’m fine. But… Peter I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to tell him!”

“Who? Tell who what?”

“Quentin Beck.”

Peter felt cold.

“Honey I’m sorry, but he knows where you are. He’s coming there.”

Chapter 21: Chapter twenty one

Chapter Text

Pepper was already notifying Jarvis and Mr Stark that they should expect a visitor.

Meanwhile, Peter got what he could from May as he rushed through the rest of the phone call.

Beck had been inviting May out to dinner, telling her he thought Peter would not want her to be alone. Eventually she had relented to having a drink at his bar.

“I- I think he slipped me something. I only had half a glass of wine but I felt drunk, I was so disoriented… he was asking me all these questions and I got confused. He acted like he was so worried about you and said you told him that Wisconsin was a cover story and I’m so sorry honey, I told him that I crashed my car and you found me and you were with the man that lived nearby. I stopped myself before I gave him any more details, I went to the bathroom and made myself throw up, but I’d already mentioned Malibu Point.”

Peter had comforted her but quickly terminated the call so he could find Mr Stark.

He was in the lab talking to Jarvis, a large map on his screen with a blinking, moving dot.

“Mr Stark, I’m so sorry…”

“It’s ok kid, it’s not your fault. Not your Aunt’s either from the sound of it.”

“What… is that him?” he asked, pointing to the screen.

“I put a tracker on your boyfriend’s car when your Aunt drove off in it.”

“He’s not my boyfriend.” Peter said, feeling a bit pathetic in clarifying that, but still wanting Mr Stark to know.

“Well whatever this Beck guy is to you, he’ll be here in about fifteen minutes.”

“Let me take care of it. May didn’t tell him your name or anything. Jarvis and Pepper can stay quiet, you can stay hidden, and I’ll show him I’m fine and tell him to go home.”

“Kid, someone who won’t stop trying to call you, who drugged your family member to reveal your location and immediately set out to get to you is not going to be satisfied with a quick hello.”

“You know he’s been calling me?” Maybe it was an odd part of the sentence to focus on, but Peter did not like feeling spied on.

“Jarvis told me after the twentieth call attempt in two days.”

“He’s… I don’t know why he’s acting like that.”

“He’s jealous.” Mr Stark said simply.

Peter just looked at him, still lost.

“He thinks he’s lost you to another man. You’re not the sort of guy someone would let go without a fight.”

Peter felt his feelings toward Mr Stark – which were still a bit icy given Pepper’s revelation – soften a little.

“I- we don’t have a choice. I’ll get rid of him.”

“Peter, this type of jealousy in a man can be dangerous-“

“He won’t hurt me or anything.”

Mr Stark did not look like he believed him, but sighed, defeated.

“Fine, I’ll trust you to take care of it. But Jarvis will be watching – we’ll come up with a codeword to use if you feel unsafe and need me to intervene.”

“What, like ‘foliage’?”

“I was thinking more like ‘coffee’. You know, so you can actually work it into a sentence?”

Peter blushed lightly with a smile.

“Ok, if I say ‘coffee’, come and rescue me.”

“Be smart.” Mr Stark advised.

Peter was lingering in the foyer now, nervously adjusting the tiny blu-tooth Mr Stark had insisted he wear.

“Remember, ‘coffee’ if you’re in trouble.” Said the small voice of Mr Stark in his ear.

Peter heard the car come up the drive. A minute later, there was a banging on the front door.

Peter nervously opened the front door.

“Peter.” Beck greeted him with a cold look as he strode purposefully passed him into the house to look around.

“This is where you’ve been the whole time?”

“Yeah…” Peter admitted quietly.

“You lied to me. Then you dodge my calls, never mind how worried I was.” Beck accused.

“I’m sorry about that. It’s just… it’s complicated.”

Beck snorted. “Complicated. Sure. I see that thing on your neck.” He indicated the fading hickey on Peter’s throat with a sneer.

“Found a richer guy, did you? Who is he?” Beck started pacing around the foyer as if looking for Mr Stark.

“I- I didn’t… I’m sorry, you can’t go in there!” calling Beck back from where he was looking down to the kitchen.

Peter took a deep breath. “You can’t stay.”

“Neither can you. You’re coming home.”

“Beck-”

“You know the worst part? You left your Aunt. Do you have any idea how miserable she’s been? How lonely?”

Peter felt a wave of guilt and tears pricking his eyes.

“I- I call her every day…” he tried to justify.

“Oh, once a day. Between co*cktails by the pool and letting your new sugar daddy maul your neck and God knows what else?”

“Hey!” Peter was getting angry now. Beck did not now anything about what was happening here and he can’t imagine May confiding in him…

“I expected better Peter. I thought you were smarter than this, more mature. You turned your back on people that care about you. All so you could be the kept boy of some rich old weirdo living in the woods?”

“There’s a lot of reasons I’m here and I don’t think any of them are your business.” He said firmly, though his voice still sounded weak to his ears.

“Not my business?” Beck was advancing on him now and Peter did not like the look in his eyes.

“You are my business. You think you can just walk away from me? Tell me all that ‘just friends’ bullsh*t then come up here to spread your legs for some other guy?”

Beck grabbed Peter’s arm hard. His heart was racing.

“Beck-“

Beck had both hands on him now in a forceful, bruising grip.

“I am the best f*cking thing to ever come out of that sh*tty town. Do you know how lucky you are to be with me?”

Peter’s mind was racing. What was he supposed to say?

“We can- I’ll make coffee-“

It was weak as far as segues went, but it didn’t matter. In the next moment, Mr Stark was striding purposefully out from the lab’s entrance. He was not wearing the suit, but Peter did spy the bracelets he was experimenting with. With the right gesture, they would transform into gauntlets and be weaponised.

Peter had to make sure it didn’t come to that.

“Who the f*ck are you?” Beck sneered.

“I’m the guy whose house you’re in.” Mr Stark said in a dangerous tone, the likes of which Peter had never heard before, not even when he first arrived.

He saw Beck reassessing Mr Stark, who in his faded band t-shirt and old jeans did not look like he owned a multi-million-dollar mansion.

“Get your hands off him.” Mr Stark instructed.

Beck tilted his chin up as if in challenge, a dark smirk tugging at his lips.

“Oh, Peter likes it when put my hands on him. All over him in fact.”

Beck’s hand closest to Mr Stark slid off Peter’s arm and onto his hip suggestively. But all the while, his other hand kept its bruising grip on Peter’s arm.

“I’m not going to ask again.” Mr Stark warned, his expression unchanging.

Mr Stark being entirely unruffled by his goading abruptly changed Beck’s mood from taunting to cold anger.

“Peter, go get in the car.” Beck said, his gaze still pinned on Mr Stark.

Peter stepped back as if to comply. Once Beck’s hand relinquished its grip, Peter stepped sideways to stand closer to Mr Stark.

“Peter!” Beck barked, stepping toward Peter.

Mr Stark was quicker, taking two wide strides until he was standing protectively in front of Peter.

“He’s not going with you.”

“Oh, you’re keeping him here?”

“Peter can leave anytime he wants, but he’s not about to get in the car with some psycho ex that manipulates and hurts him.”

Beck’s face contorted into rage at Mr Stark’s words, but he quickly schooled his expression back to calm.

Peter had never said no to Beck before, he realised, not really. Was this what was waiting under the surface? All this anger, controlling and domineering…

Beck seemed to realise he was not getting through Mr Stark so turned his gaze back to Peter.

“He’s full of sh*t you know. I know guys like this. He’s all sweet words, attention and presents now, but that’s just a front. He just sees you as a hole to keep his dick warm and he’s jealous that I got there first.”

Peter felt his face go bright red with mortification and his stomach drop even further. Then he saw a blur of movement and-

BAM!

Mr Stark’s fist connected with Beck’s left cheek.

Beck went down with an ‘oof’.

Peter was gaping. “Oh my God!”

Beck didn’t stay down for long, scrambling up and gaining enough momentum to crash into Mr Stark’s middle, driving him hard into the wall.

Beck drew back a fist and slammed it into Mr Stark’s face, only to receiving a punch to his gut and rough shove back.

“Stop!” Peter cried, leaping forward to try and pull Beck off Mr Stark and stop the fight.

When Peter’s arms wrapped around his shoulders, Beck threw a violent arm back at him. Peter was not expecting it and so went flying back, crashing into the table in the middle of the room.

Peter cried out as pain shot through his arm where he jarred it badly against the wood. Next the sound of shattering glass rang out as the vase on top fell and shattered just inches from his head. Peter froze where he was, surrounded by glass and unable to move in order to stand back up without cutting himself.

He looked back at the two men. Mr Stark had shoved Beck off him and onto the floor. His furious gaze went from Peter to Beck and he stepped over the man.

He activated the gauntlet.

“Mr Stark!” Peter cried out.

Still the gauntlet whirred, the light brightening where he had it aimed at Beck’s chest. Mr Stark’s eyes were fixed on Beck in a hateful stare.

“Tony, DON’T!” Pepper worried voice called out.

“Are you alright Peter?” he gritted out, still staring at Beck who eyed him with trepidation. He may not have seen anything like the gauntlet before, but he was smart enough to realise he was in real danger and truly at a disadvantage.

“I-I’m fine.” Peter said, far more concerned by what Mr Stark was going to do next than he was about himself.

His assurance did not seem to make Mr Stark feel much better. Still he stood over Beck, tension clear in his frame as he held him under threat of fire.

“Don’t- don’t hurt him. You’re better than that.” Peter said quietly.

“Peter’s right. You can’t do this Tony… especially not in front of him.”

Finally Mr Stark’s expression faltered, his eyes darting quickly to Peter’s frightened face before fixing back on Beck.

He moved carefully to place himself between Peter and Beck, his gauntlet still pointed at the angry man.

“You are going to get the f*ck out of my house and forget you were ever here. You are also going to forget that you ever met Peter or his Aunt. You got that?” he ordered sharply.

Beck glared back at him, sparing only a moment’s cold glance at Peter before he nodded and slowly stood. He moved cautiously out the door that Jarvis slammed shut behind him, then a moment later they heard the engine of his car start and him peel out of the drive.

“Peter.” Mr Stark had disengaged the gauntlet and was crouched over him with a worried expression.

“I’m ok.”

“Here…” The glass crunched under Mr Stark’s feet as he shuffled closer, hooking hands under Peter to help him up.

“Jarvis?”

“I detect deep tissue bruising on Peter’s left forearm. I recommend applying ice immediately.”

Mr Stark wrapped an arm around his shoulders and guided him to the kitchen. He sat on a stool where Happy had dropped an icepack.

They remained silent while Mr Stark pressed the ice pack gently against his throbbing arm.

“Mr Stark I’m so s-“

“Don’t you dare apologise.” Mr Stark cut him off with a look. “You are not responsible for the actions of that arsehole.”

“But I’m the reason he was here.”

“And I’m the reason you are here.” He said with a small, sad smile.

Peter let Mr Stark attend to him gently for a few minutes, covering Mr Stark’s hand with his own.

“Mr Stark… he heard your name.”

Mr Stark sighed. “I know.”

Chapter 22: Chapter twenty two

Chapter Text

Jarvis monitored that scumbag, piece of sh*t Beck closely and knew the second he started googling Tony’s name.

Tony had hoped that was all he would do, that he would give up upon finding nothing, realise he had lost Peter and just move on.

No such luck.

Tony could understand, to an extent. If Peter suddenly ran off, he would get why. Truly. But he did not think he would be able to help himself from checking out any new guy Peter found, to make sure they were worthy of his affections.

Tony would be able to run quiet background checks himself, invade Peter’s personal life in secret. But Beck did not have those skills.

So he hired a private investigator.

Tony had never come so close to killing someone, and he was not convinced he had made the right choice by letting him leave. Thinking about how he had grabbed Peter so roughly, the way he berated the younger man and how scared Peter had been still made his blood boil days later.

If he had killed Beck, Peter would be rid of him and his fixation forever.

If he had killed Beck, Tony would not be silently watching the secret of his existence unravel as the private detective sent out feelers about ‘Tony Stark’ that Jarvis could not take down.

If he had killed Beck, Tony would not be sitting here waiting for a knock at the door that signalled Christine’s inevitable arrival.

But if he had killed Beck, Peter would never forgive him.

And it was the latter he could not possibly bare.

He had considered packing everything up and running. But that would mean leaving so much behind in the lab, as well as dragging Peter halfway across the country.

He was going to die soon either way. He was not ready, but at least he felt that he had shown Peter enough that he would be able to navigate through his project files and keep all the important fires burning, with help from Jarvis, Pepper and Happy.

*******************************************

Peter was not ready.

He felt a little like he was under water. He and Mr Stark had silently parted ways that night after Beck left, but Peter had laid awake for hours thinking about what the events of the night would mean.

It was possible it meant nothing, would change nothing.

It was possible it would change everything.

Peter did not want to close his eyes because if he did, he might wake to a world where Mr Stark’s name was no longer forgotten. If that was the case, if Beck talked or posted online about what he saw here, that woman might come back and Mr Stark…

He was not ready to say goodbye.

He must have gotten up five times to find Mr Stark, wanting desperately to be with him. But he was uncertain whether he would be welcome in the other man’s arms, which made him stay put.

The next day they had both come to the lab earlier than usual, both quiet and subdued.

Peter had stood close to Mr Stark’s side, looking over the plans he had been working on but not truly seeing them.

“What are you going to do?” he asked quietly.

“Nothing.”

Peter’s head whipped around.

“What do you mean?”

Mr Stark sighed. “There’s nothing to do Peter. Either he tells or he doesn’t, either she hears about it or not. It’s out of our control.”

“I- I know, but… isn’t there somewhere else we could go?” Peter asked.

“All of the work is here Peter, the lab… we might not have time to move it all, not to mention the extra risk of hiring a whole bunch of movers.”

“We can leave all this stuff, all we need is Happy, Pepper and Jarvis-“

“Peter, it’s not just that. Running would mean dragging you across the country.”

“So?” Peter asked, puzzled.

“So, I am going to die soon.” Mr Stark said bluntly. Peter flinched at the forthright tone, but Mr Stark pressed on. “When I do, Pepper, Jarvis and Happy will be there, but not physically. You’ll be alone. When that happens, you are going to get in a car and go back to your Aunt. You’ll be sad there for a little while, but then you’ll be able to come back here and I’ll be gone. There’s a whole plan resting with Jarvis and the drones to deal with that. If we go somewhere else…”

Mr Stark did not finish the sentence. He did not have to, the horror was clear on Peter’s face.

He had not thought about the logistics. When Mr Stark… well, he would be a body without official ID. They could not call a funeral home. Maybe the cops? But there was something so devastating about Mr Stark being deemed a John Doe and buried in an unmarked grave.

What would Peter do if it were just the two of them?

He was grateful Mr Stark was thinking about that stuff.

“So we’re just going to wait here?”

“Yeah.”

“But… but…”

Peter looked at him closely now, a sadness on Mr Stark’s expression he had not seen before.

“You’re giving up.”

Mr Stark turned to face him properly now.

“At best I have a couple of months left. The benefits don’t outweigh the costs on this one kid. We’re staying put.”

“The benefit is you staying alive!” Peter exclaimed.

Mr Stark didn’t respond.

“How could you even consider giving up?”

“Kid, I have been dealing with this for eight years. I tried everything and only managed to scrape through some extra time. I know you haven’t had the same amount of time to prepare for this, but believe me when I tell you that it’s past due. I’m tired.”

In that moment he did look exhausted. Heartbreak mixed with Peter’s building anger.

“We’re about as prepared as we’re gonna get. It’s not giving up if you’ve exhausted all your viable options.”

“But did you exhaust all your options?”

Mr Stark looked questioningly at him at the softly spoken question.

“Pepper told me about the way the curse was supposed to be broken.”

Mr Stark’s jaw clenched, obviously not having intended for Peter to ever know.

“Did you not tell me because you thought you could never love me?” Peter choked out, the question that had been on a loop in his head since Pepper had told him the day before.

“No, Peter… I… it doesn’t matter.”

“It does to me!” Peter exclaimed.

Mr Stark got more agitated. “This is exactly what I didn’t want!”

Peter felt a sob sticking in his throat as Mr Stark started to pace, feeling devastated but not wanting to break into tears in front of the other man.

“You’re going to take this on yourself and it’s not your burden. That solution – if it was ever legitimate – went out the window when the clock struck seven years. I never wanted to give you false hope Peter. That’s why she made the cure love – just elusive and indefinable enough to keep an ember of hope alive, enough to cripple you. I don’t want you thinking about it. There’s nothing you could have done.”

By the end of his speech, Mr Stark had stopped in front of him, gripping his biceps. Though his hold was firm, it was so different from Beck’s the night before.

“But… But I-“

“Peter, it was a lost cause before you even arrived. It was never going to make a difference how you felt… or how I felt.” Mr Stark said softly.

At the soft almost-admission, Peter started to cry, wrapping his arms around Mr Stark’s neck as the older man drew him in close.

Mr Stark held him for several long minutes. When he eventually pulled back, he could see Mr Stark’s eyes were wet too.

“Look, we might be worried about nothing, total drama queens we are. Best to just go about our business at usual, which means you-“ he steered Peter by the shoulders to his workspace where Jarvis opened a file labelled ‘Project Bear Grylls: Wilderness and Survival Gear’- “need to keep brushing up on your gadgets young Robin.”

This elicited a small smile from Peter.

“Did you make a Batman reference to cheer me up?”

“Yes, and it will never happen again.”

*******************************************

Peter stayed late at the lab that night, busying himself with some of the telecommunication files.

Eventually he drummed up his courage to ask:

“Can I sleep with you tonight?”

Mr Stark looked at him for a couple of beats before answering, his expression torn.

“I don’t want you to miss me.”

Peter’s confusion must have read on his face, because Mr Stark went on.

“In bed. I don’t want you to get used to sleeping next to me because if you do, you’ll miss me.”

Peter tilted his head as he considered the man in front of him. This beautiful, thoughtful, misguided man.

Peter shook his head fondly but sadly.

“I already miss you. And I don’t want to sleep alone.” Peter whispered.

As Mr Stark led him upstairs, he realised rather bizarrely that he had not in fact stepped foot on the second level in his time here. However his study of the hallways and Mr Stark’s bedroom was cursory as Peter waited only a couple of beats before wrapping his arms around the older man’s shoulders and kissing him.

They made love in Mr Stark’s massive bed adorned with a specially fitted sonic field to keep his curse purifier flowing through his blood stream evenly without having to wear the suit. Hours later, when Mr Stark wrapped his arms around Peter, spooning his naked body up behind him, Peter drifted off with the peaceful but mournful thought that this was exactly where he was meant to be.

Chapter 23: Chapter twenty three

Chapter Text

It was ten in the morning when the knock sounded on the front door, eerily echoing through the whole house.

“Jarvis?” Tony asked warily, though he already knew what his answer would be.

“Sir none of my scans detected her approach but the front door camera confirms that it is Ms Everhart.”

Tony heard Peter’s sharp intake of breath and instinctively looked at the younger man. His expression was stricken.

Tony had thought about this moment a lot over the last few weeks but still, he did not know what to say to comfort Peter. He brought himself a couple of seconds by deactivating the suit – it was hardly going to be useful now.

“I want you to get the keys to the jag and drive home, right now.” He said, his voice low and calm.

He did not really expect Peter to comply, however much he wished he would.

Peter shook his head.

“Then will you stay down here?” a pleading note now entering his voice.

Peter shook his head, his eyes glassy as he moved around the bench that separated them.

“I’ll come with you.”

Peter, so brave and compassionate, took Tony’s hand in his own and squeezed it gently. Tony squeezed back.

“Tony…” Pepper’s soft, sad tone was like another knife to his heart.

“Pep, I- if I don’t get another chance to say it… what you’ve meant to me- you and Happy have been my family. You’ve been more patient and caring than anyone could reasonably expect with a mess like me and I- I love you. And I’m so sorry.” His voice cracked at the end. Peter wrapped his other hand around Tony’s arm, a physical comfort that Pepper could not offer Tony herself.

“Tony, I chose my life. I chose to spend it by your side, and I could never regret the work we did together, or getting to take care of you.” She said with gentle humour, Tony smiling tearfully in response. “It’s been an honour, and I love you too.”

Tony took a deep, shaking breath.

“Will you… tell Happy if I don’t get a chance?” he asked.

“Of course.” Was her quiet reply.

Tony straightened up and hand-in-hand with Peter, moved toward the lab stairs.

“Hey J?”

“Sir?”

“Thanks for everything buddy. Be good, ok?”

Jarvis knew Tony better than anybody in the world, so Tony knew that Jarvis understood what he did not say aloud- how much he loved him, how he had been his right-hand man he could always trust, and that Tony was putting the most precious task in his hands – taking care of Peter, Pepper and Happy.

“Of course Sir.”

He and Peter reached the top of the staircase and stood only a few paces from the front door. He heard a whirring sound and looked up to find Happy / DUM-E standing at the archway that lead to the kitchen. The arm of DUM-E moved up and down slowly, and Tony gave him a nod and a smile back.

Tony gave Peter’s hand one final squeeze before he released it, silently gesturing for Peter to stay put while he crossed the entrance way to grasp the front door handle.

He hesitated for one final moment before opening it.

“Hello Tony.”

Christine was smiling at him on the threshold, looking the exact same as she had when he had last seen her years ago.

“You have been a tough man to track down. I suppose I have myself to blame for that. But I didn’t expect to find you so upright and fighting fit. How’d you do it?”

“I’m a genius.” Tony replied with false bravado as she swept into his house.

“Hmmm… who’s this?” she asked, looking Peter up and down.

“P-Peter. I’m Peter.” He replied nervously from his place, frozen at the stop of the staircase.

Tony shifted, speaking loudly and bluntly to draw Christine’s attention away from the younger man.

“Cut the small talk. What are you going to do?”

“What do you think? You screwed the pooch Tony, you didn’t break the curse.”

“But that’s not Pepper or Happy’s fault. Bring them back. Make them human again.”

Christine smiled widely, though it did not quite meet her eyes.

“Are you actually giving me an order right now?”

“I’m asking. No, I’m begging you. They have spent the last eight years suffering, and they did nothing wrong. They deserve their lives back.”

Christine still looked amused, but more considering.

“Aren’t you going to beg for your life too?”

“Would it do any good?” Tony asked flatly.

“Maybe.” But Christine’s mouth was twitching up in a mocking smile, her eyes sharp which told Tony that she was lying. His fate was decided and he was not about the make his end more pleasurable for her.

He stayed silent.

Then, from behind him:

“Please.”

Both Tony and Christine turned to face Peter. His expression was painfully earnest, his voice pleading.

“Please, don’t. He’s a good man, he doesn’t deserve to- to die. Please.”

Christine looked curious but not swayed. “He had clear instructions and plenty of time to fix it himself kid.”

“I love him.” Peter blurted out desperately. “I do, I love him. I didn’t find him before his time was up but I’m here now and I love him.”

Tony felt crushed watching Peter standing there wringing his hands in distress, begging and rationalising with the woman for Tony’s life.

A touch of sympathy was now visible in Christine’s eyes. “That was only half of the deal. He had to love you back.”

Peter literally flinched and looked down at his feet, tears running down his cheeks now.

Did he still not understand? Tony had not said it but he thought he was so transparent.

He could not die with Peter thinking he was alone in his feelings.

Tony stepped up close to Peter, turning his back entirely on Christine for the illusion of privacy. Tony tenderly cupped Peter’s face, raising his chin so he would look at him in the eye.

“Peter… you have to know. I adore you. Your brain, your relentless optimism, every inch of your body, your save-the-world ideas and your God-awful puns… I love you.”

Peter was looking at him in teary-eyed shock. Tony pressed on, wanting his final goodbye to include everything he had wanted to say for months.

“How could I not? I wanted you from the night you replaced my solution distributor and told me to drink my juice. But I knew you were the one for me the first time you jumped in my arms laughing about your brilliant web shooters. I didn’t want to tell you because I thought it would make you more invested, but now I can’t go without knowing that you understand just how much you have meant to me. I have a lot of regrets about how I’ve lived my life, but one of the biggest is that I didn’t fix everything so I could see you take up your mantle and save the world. You’re destined for greatness, simply on account of you being you… It was always you.”

Tony captured Peter’s trembling bottom lip in a chaste kiss.

Peter sobbed slightly as he pulled back, flinging his arms around the older man, clinging like he would never let him go.

Tony held him just as tightly, letting one or two stray tears fall onto Peter’s shirt. He drew back reluctantly, his heart breaking into even more pieces as Peter resisted, trying to hold on to him.

“Don’t watch,” Tony whispered to him. “Just remember this moment, right as we are now. Go outside.”

“No.” Peter shook his head in denial.

“Please.” Tony’s voice grated out.

Still Peter shook his head, his hands gripping Tony’s arms hard.

“Ok, enough.”

Both men jumped slightly at Christine’s intrusion.

“Just give him a minute.” Tony gritted.

“No, I mean, it’s enough.”

Christine heaved a sigh, looking at them as though appraising them.

“You are past deadline, and I hate to be another person that gives you leeway or treats you as a special case – believe me.” Christine shot him a stern look. “But it seems that Peter wouldn’t have been legal if you had indeed found him during your allocated timeframe. So, given the extenuating circ*mstances… I’m willing to overlook the extra year.”

Neither man responded, still trying to catch up with the full implications of her words.

“…what?” Tony asked dumbly.

“You’ll have to start from scratch, I’m not messing with the fabric of reality like I did last time, it’s too fiddly. Consider it a character-building exercise.”

Christine spoke matter-of-factly and was already moving toward the door as though her business here was completed and she had more important things to do.

“And Tony- do better this time.”

Then she left, strutting out like she had not just rocked the foundations of everyone in the house.

Tony and Peter looked at each other bewildered. Then all of a sudden, Tony felt a cold, stabbing sensation in his chest.

He had only felt this once before – the day he was cursed.

He grunted and fell to his knees, hearing Peter’s frantic call of “Mr Stark!” as he held him upright.

Tony felt winded by the pain. He wheezed and coughed as Peter panicked.

But then the pressure decreased. The frigid cold was turning warm now.

Tony coughed, “Uh, tastes like coconut…”.

Every passing moment made him feel lighter. Warmer. It was like someone had been resting on his chest, slow enough that he had not realised they were crushing him. But now they were gone and he could breathe again.

“Oh my God, Mr Stark…”

Together Peter and Tony’s hands lifted his shirt, watching in astonishment as the black lines retracted as though they were being sucked down a drain in the centre of his chest. Finally, the last of the lines were scrubbed away to form just a spot next to the arc reactor, right over his heart. The next moment, it was gone.

The curse was gone. And Tony felt amazing.

“It’s over.” He said to Peter, dumbfounded.

Peter looked even more stunned than he did, tracing his hands over Tony’s chest as though looking for a wound.

“Are you pawing me to initiate victory sex? Cause I’m on board.” Tony joked.

“Mr Stark- Tony…” again Tony found himself with an armful of Peter.

“I can’t believe it… I can’t believe it…” Peter chanted in Tony’s ear. The older man smiled into his shoulder, delighting in his ability to hold him with no time restrictions.

Tony was broken from his focus on the warmth of Peter’s body when he heard the clacking of heels.

His heart skipped a beat. He hadn’t heard that sound in the mansion since…

“Pepper!”

Peter reared back, both their heads snapping around from where they were on the ground to see the tall, red-haired woman stumble slightly as she reached the top of the staircase.

“Did I used to have better balance in heels?” she asked Tony, holding herself steady against the wall.

“Pep…” Tony and Peter climbed to their feet, Tony crossing the distance in three wide steps to wrap Pepper in a tight hug.

“Tony,” she said his name so fondly, which he absolutely did not deserve. “You did it.”

“I think we have Peter to thank for this.”

“You had to open yourself up to love and trust him in return. I know that does not come easy for you. I’m so happy that you managed it, for all our sakes.” Pepper said softly just for Tony’s ears.

A groan broke through their moment.

“Oh my God, I have hands again.”

Tony turned around to see Happy standing next to DUM-E running his hands over his human body as though testing it were real, even stopping for a moment to grope himself followed by a relieved sigh.

“Happy, you handsome son of a bitch.”

Tony practically bounced across the room to hug Happy, laughing joyfully as he did so.

Tony smiled as he listened to Happy grumble about his aches and muscle stiffness, releasing the other man and looking back over to where Pepper had Peter in a tight hug.

Tony doubted there would be another moment in his life where he felt happier than he did right now.

Happy was ambling over to give Pepper a hug, so Tony took the opportunity to take Peter back in his arms.

“Alright, sh*t. You guys must be hungry? Thirsty? Why don’t we move this party to the kitchen, I’ll whip us up something.” Tony suggested, feeling practically giddy as Peter wrapped his arms around his middle and smiled up at him so carefree.

“Are you kidding me? I haven’t eaten for eight freaking years. I am not getting food poisoning from my first meal back in my body. I’ll cook.”

Pepper and Peter laughed as Happy set off to the kitchen like a man on a mission.

Tony smiled widely at the frankly well-placed insult to his culinary skills.

“Fine, take the safe boring option. Jarvis, in the meantime can you run some searches and tell us where we’re at footprint wise?”

“My pleasure Sir. And may I also say – welcome back Miss Potts and Mr Hogan.”

Chapter 24: Chapter twenty four

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The Next Day

Peter stirred slowly, reluctant to open his eyes and lose the warm, floaty feeling he had now. But as he continued to wake, he could make out the details of his position. Mr Stark’s arms were wrapped around him, his warm chest against Peter’s back. He could feel the soft puffs of Mr Stark’s breath against the back of his neck. He sighed happily and snuggled back further into the embrace, covering Mr Stark’s hand on his chest with his own.

A little while later, Peter felt Mr Stark stirring.

“Morning Beautiful.” His voice was rough from sleep. He punctuated his greeting with a kiss to the side of Peter’s neck.

Peter turned in his arms to face him, a warm smile on his lips.

“Hi.” He responded with a chaste kiss on the man’s lips.

“How are you feeling?” Mr Stark asked, hands skating down Peter’s sides.

After spending a few hours with Pepper and Happy celebrating their re-found humanity, Mr Stark had led him upstairs and they had spent the rest of the afternoon and all evening in bed together.

Honestly, Peter was a little sore and tired, but in a good way.

“Sublimely happy. You?”

Mr Stark grinned back at him. “Ditto.”

They had plans that day and so did not lay in much longer. After a shower – Mr Stark’s suggestion that showering together would save water made obsolete by the time they spent under the spray rubbing each other off – they went down to the kitchen to grab some breakfast.

Peter was flipping pancakes, Mr Stark not able to be trusted to create anything edible, when he felt the older man wrap around his back and lean his chin on Peter’s shoulder.

He grinned. It felt so nice to have the other man be so affectionate, completely unrestrained in how much he touched Peter. He was nothing but smiles, jokes and flirting since yesterday when life was literally breathed back into him.

Peter turned his head to ask for a quick kiss, which Mr Stark immediately deepened. Mr Stark was in the process of turning him around to properly kiss him breathless, breakfast be damned, when they heard a groan from behind them.

“Do you have to do that in a food preparation area?” Happy grumbled, shuffling into the kitchen.

Peter pulled away from Mr Stark sheepishly, blushing all the while. Mr Stark did not seem bothered by Happy’s discomfort, dropping another kiss on his shoulder and staying pressed against him.

Happy starting making coffee – the job Mr Stark had abandoned – and pulling out juice, fruit and syrup for breakfast.

As Peter removed the first batch of pancakes from the stove top, Happy shooed him and Mr Stark away to sit down and took over.

Mr Stark hooked an ankle around the stool before Peter could sit, dragging it over so it was right next to his. Peter beamed at him and took his seat, Mr Stark immediately placing an arm around his shoulders.

“What time are you headed out?” Happy asked.

“Right after breakfast.” Mr Stark answered for them both.

Peter felt bittersweet about the fact he was leaving today.

They had spoke yesterday afternoon about what all of them would do. Jarvis had informed them that there were birth and school records for Tony, Pepper and Happy, but no record of Stark Industries post the death of Tony’s father.

Pepper had already headed off early that morning to go and see her parents who lived in upstate New York. Mr Stark and Happy would be headed to New York themselves to start the process of resurrecting Stark Industries. After a few days Happy would part ways with Mr. Stark to take a holiday – he said he was looking forward to feeling the sun on his skin in Acapulco for a couple of weeks.

Mr Stark had not yet decided what he would do next. He said he would let Peter know as soon as he decided, but in the meantime, he should visit home.

Absently, Peter thought to himself that if they were going to be together for good, Peter should probably start calling him Tony.

An hour later found Peter and Tony on the road in one of his expensive cars, headed back to Peter’s hometown and May. Peter had called her earlier to tell her he was coming, and she had been so excited and relieved that he felt even more guilty for the brief argument he had with Tony the day before about Peter going with him to New York. A couple of weeks with May would be good for them both.

May was hovering outside the apartment building when they pulled up, the flashy car drawing curious gazes from passers-by.

“Peter!” May flung herself into his arms the second he was out of the car.

Peter was surprised by how emotional he felt being reunited with May. Talking on the phone was just not the same. This had been the longest they had been apart since Peter’s parents passed away.

Tony was taking his time walking around the car to where they were embracing, not wanting to interrupt their reunion.

Peter and May parted, and Peter could practically feel the icy glare May was levelling at Tony.

“Um, maybe we should go upstairs?” Peter suggested with a nervous voice, not wanting May to lose her temper with Tony on the street where onlookers were lingering.

May kept a tight orbit to Peter, continually reaching out to touch him as if to prove he was really there. They fell into their old rhythm in the small kitchen, brewing coffee for all of them before they sat down to explain to May what was happening.

Tony spoke the most, starting with a sincere apology before explaining the entire bizarre scenario to May. His nerves led to a couple of sarcastic comments they could have done without, but with Peter piping in throughout and the guilty, remorseful cloud that was surrounding Tony from the second he sat down across from May, she seemed to (mostly) believe them.

They had not gone into detail about their relationship, though they confirmed what May had been hearing from Peter for weeks – Mr Stark was his mentor and teacher, and Peter would be taking an active role in the R&D of Mr Stark’s new company.

The dynamics between May and Tony were still awkward enough that he did not stick around for any more small talk. Peter jumped up to walk him to the car. May was obviously not happy to be losing sight of him in Mr Stark’s presence again, but she allowed it.

“Well, for what could have potentially been the worst ‘meet the family’ scenario in recent history, that went surprisingly well. Unless she’s calling the cops right now.” Tony said in the stairwell.

“You were great.” Peter said with a kiss to Tony’s cheek.

Before they reached the door to the street, they took one last moment to hold each other and softly kiss goodbye.

“You’ll call me, right?” Peter asked sadly.

“Every day. Multiple times a day. I’ll call you when I wake up and we’ll just leave the connection open with earpieces until you go to sleep at night.” Tony promised jokingly.

Peter smiled. “Come home soon. I love you.”

“Love you too baby.”

Two Months Later

Peter was staying with May again for a few days.

Tony was flying to California to look at some old properties of his father’s and warehouses for the old Stark Industries. Just like last time, Tony was keeping his promise to call Peter all the time – he even got to virtually sit in on a couple of meetings with some of the new development teams Tony was putting together.

Though he could have gone with, Peter thought that May would appreciate the help in moving into her new house.

The listings had started to come through to Peter and May the first week after the curse, when Tony was away. After Peter explained to a confused May why she was suddenly receiving these emails and calls from real estate agents about viewings, she had been angry that Tony was trying to buy his way into her good graces.

Peter admitted that it was a lot, perhaps a bit too quick, but Tony wanted desperately to make up for the trauma he’d caused May, and getting her into a more comfortable home seemed to be step two of the thirty step plan he had concocted.

Step one had been paying off all of Uncle Ben’s medical bills and eliminating all of their debt.

It had taken weeks of convincing, but eventually Peter had persuaded May that accepting the house was not the same as forgetting what Tony had done and in no way eliminated her right to hold it against him for years to come (her words).

Peter had to step in and get Tony to switch from the plan he had landed on - to build May a mansion on the outskirts of town - to a more quaint property with a Juliet balcony and a garden he knew May would love.

May couldn’t help the smile on her face on moving day, which in turn boosted Peter’s mood.

May was looking lighter and happier than he had seen her in years. He hadn’t realised the effect that living under the great weight of their debt had on her. Now she was worry free and able to stretch out in a space that she could truly make into a home, without needing to think about how she could afford rent and food.

When Tony video called him that afternoon, Peter did a walk-through of the house. He realised that Tony was clocking the empty space in each room – May’s collection of furniture had grown quite meager in moving to the apartment, so there was plenty to buy to fill the house.

“Don’t you dare.” Peter remarked, a smile breaking through his mock-stern glare.

“What?” Tony asked defensively.

“I can see the gears in your head turning. We got May to accept the house, but she will hit the roof if you start sending her furniture.”

Tony grimaced as though he was being denied something.

“Well she can’t argue with electronics can she? I run a tech company, naturally I have all sort of whitegoods and gadgets for cheap.” Tony asked.

Peter paused for a moment.

“You’ve already organised it haven’t you?”

“The truck will drop by tomorrow around 10. There’s a couple of options for her to choose from, like coffee machines and wine fridges, but the rest was ordered according to the fittings in the house.”

Peter couldn’t help but smile. Tony was so generous, not giving a second thought to providing a house full of what would no doubt be top-of-the-line electronics to the woman who still disliked him but was important to Peter.

“Hmm… are you going to tell her, or did you want me to?” Peter asked.

“Would love to, but I’ve got to run.”

Peter laughed. “Ok, fine. I love you.”

“Love you too. Talk to you tonight.”

Peter hung up with a smile.

“Peter honey, will you come help me with the table? I can’t decide where it looks best!” came the light-hearted call from Aunt May from the other room.

It turned out May was semi-ok with getting electronics from Tony. The new car that arrived a couple of weeks after had a stronger reaction. That was somehow both soothed and aggravated (depending on the day) by the large donation Tony made to the library.

Peter would have stepped in more, but he was busy trying to control Tony’s gifts to himself – the new clothes, shoes and watches, the cars (multiple) and anything he so much as mentioned in passing in the lab.

But then, showering the Parkers in gifts seemed to make Tony happy, so Peter let most slip through with little complaint.

Six Months Later

“Good boy…” Tony crooned.

He was laying in the little-used dentist chair in his nanotech suit, a call back to how he used to get around all the time when he was still cursed.

Only now he had a naked, writhing Peter sprawled across his lap, the young man hard and leaking against the suit, his eyes hooded and mouth parted to let out light, panting moans.

Peter whimpered loudly as Tony pushed his digit further inside of him, causing him to rock forward and smear the head of his twitching erection against the bright red of the suit, leaving a wet trail behind.

Tony had started with uncovered fingers, making sure Peter was stretched sufficiently to take what was coming next. Now, with a suited hand, Peter was feeling the hard, unforgiving material of the suit he so admired inside of him.

A special bit of programming Tony had worked on reduced the joints of the digit, making it slip in smoothly and ensuring it was not too cold.

“Mr- Mr Stark, please.” He choked out.

He was between two hard places – lean back and he was skewering himself more on the metal digit, forward and he was against the unforgiving might of the suit.

“Do you like it baby? Is it what you imagined?” Tony asked huskily.

“Mmmm better…” Peter panted, shifting his hips where they were spread wide around Tony’s thighs to invite Tony to f*ck him properly with the rod inside him.

Tony sent the next series of commands through the nanotech. The digit detached from the rest of the suit, still in place inside Peter. It expanded slightly, both in width (“Ooohhhhh” Peter moaned) but mostly in length. A grip formed at the end for Tony to hold onto and leverage the makeshift dild* in and out of Peter.

“More, please… please…” Peter panted, clawing uselessly at Tony’s covered shoulders.

“You know I’d give you anything, my pretty boy.” Tony promised.

This felt so decadent, like Tony was a King and Peter was his Favourite come to worship Tony with his body. Stroking his ego as well as his libido was getting him increasingly hot under his proverbial collar.

Then, Tony sent the next command to the nanotech.

“Ahhhh!” Peter cried out as the metal started to vibrate.

“There. I know what you need baby, my good boy…” Peter was almost sobbing now, his hips desperately pushing back against the welcome intruder inside him.

“That’s it, f*ck… you look so good trying to ride it sweetheart.” Tony grunted.

“Mr Stark!” with that Peter was coming, white stripes painting the suit in a stunning contrast.

“So good, you look incredible…” Tony talked him through it, feeling absurdly jealous of the nanotech that got to feel the exquisite sensation of Peter clenching around it.

He dialled back the vibration, letting Peter flop down on to him and twitch at the sensations that still ran through his body.

Finally, he issued the last command, the nanotech slipping back in size but with less rigid cohesion, which made it more malleable like rubber rather than metal. He grazed an uncovered hand over the base to check that it was snugly secured inside Peter before running his hands up Peter’s back in soothing patterns.

Peter nuzzled against him like the suit was the most comfortable bed in the world.

“Is that working for you?” Tony asked, amused.

“Mmmmm, definitely. Help me move so I can suck you off?” He asked sweetly.

Tony chuckled but quickly compiled.

Five Years Later

“On your left.”

Peter swung around seamlessly, webs already flying from his wrists towards the alien Tony warned was gaining ground on him.

He yanked it forward and off the building, not waiting to see where it landed before he was swinging to the next building, hitting two aliens feet first to knock them off their balance and stop them from shooting their super advanced plasma guns at the civilians scattered below.

He let himself free fall for a few storeys to web another five aliens clinging down the sides of the building, yanking their weapons out of their claws and sending them flailing to the cement below.

“Are these things like the rabbits of the universe? How are there so many of them?” Peter asked into his comms.

“Hey, at least they’re easy to kill.” Tony shot back.

“I do NOT envy the City the clean-up. Have you smelled what comes out of these things?” Peter asked as he webbed up a particularly relentless goop monster that was trying to chase down the people still trying to get out of the way.

“Kid, I’ve been switched over to the toxic gas filter for the last ten minutes.”

Tony flew passed him in the suit just then, Peter webbing onto him to catch a lift to the north east corner of the fight perimeter to deal with a group of aliens that were getting dangerously close to a group of tourists.

With SHIELD response on the scene, it only took another half an hour to wrap up the battle. Tony found him immediately, as he always did, so they could assure each other they were both unharmed.

“Spiderman!” he heard from over his shoulder. “We love you!”

“Iron Man! Marry me!”

Peter was always embarrassed by the attention that came from crowds after. It was not something he had expected when they decided to start the superhero work – why did people always crowd around the edges of a battle to watch? Did they not know it was the most dangerous place they could possibly be?

Tony on the other hand found the attention amusing, giving the crowd a wave.

Peter knew that Tony would happily reveal his personal identity as Iron Man. It would probably even be useful to the company’s profile – Stark Industries was growing fast, going from success to success, but knowing that the most technically advanced beings in the world, some of the first bona fide superheroes, were the product of Stark Industries would be a huge boost.

It was a matter of time before someone got the right evidence, snapped the right picture, to reveal Tony and Peter’s identities. Peter accepted this as inevitable, knew the risk was worth it in order to help people the way they did. But for now, he was happy to stay anonymous and be able to walk the streets as just another guy.

Tony let him have that.

“It’s still early. What say we both grab a shower and head to that diner you like for some pie?” Tony asked him.

Peter turned to look at him in his suit. He couldn’t possibly love this man any more.

Tony Stark had given him this chance to build an extraordinary life and after everything, still knew what little things made Peter smile and constantly went out of his way to make sure he could deliver it to him.

The ring on his left hand had only been there for a few months but felt like it had been part of him for much longer. He rubbed his thumb over it through his suit and reminded himself to show this man how much he loved him as soon as they were alone. But first:

“How about we go to that one you like with the cheeseburgers?”

The One Where Peter is Beautiful and Tony is Kind of Beastly - cole90210 (2024)

Chapter 1

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Chapter 2: Chapter two

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Chapter 3: Chapter three

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Chapter 4: Chapter four

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Chapter 5: Chapter five

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Chapter 6: Chapter six

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Chapter 7: Chapter seven

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Chapter 8: Chapter eight

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Chapter 9: Chapter nine

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Chapter 10: Chapter ten

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Chapter 11: Chapter eleven

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Chapter 12: Chapter twelve

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Chapter 13: Chapter thirteen

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Chapter 14: Chapter fourteen

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Chapter 15: Chapter fifteen

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Chapter 16: Chapter sixteen

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Chapter 17: Chapter seventeen

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Chapter 18: Chapter eighteen

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Chapter 19: Chapter nineteen

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Chapter 20: Chapter twenty

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Chapter 21: Chapter twenty one

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Chapter 22: Chapter twenty two

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Chapter 23: Chapter twenty three

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Chapter 24: Chapter twenty four

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