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sarcastich · 4 years ago

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look me in the eyes and tell me this isnt perfect. you cant.

Bubblegum Popstar

Marvel | Starker

Tony's been in the biz for years. Between his own band back in the day and his decades as a producer he has a mountain of experience. It's time to sign the next big thing. Peter Parker is an up-and-coming young popstar and he's on the market after his band's big breakup. He scores a meeting with Tony who happens to be a bit pent up given his rocky marriage.

For @sarcastich

Warnings below

Warning: cheating

Peter Parker. Not his preferred clientele if Tony were being honest, but he also had to admit that these weren't exactly his glory days and he didn't always get the pick of the litter. Bubblegum pink and second most popular in some cutesy little boyband. Or at least that was what he'd put together after the name was dumped in his lap. The boy's manager was an old friend and he promised Peter was raw talent. The cult following was the cherry on top. He was practically guaranteed to bring in the money. It was the keeping it flowing part that would need his attention.

He sat listening to a couple of Peter's demos while he waited for the boy to arrive. His old band never let him take the lead and they'd practically robbed him. His voice wasn't just pretty, it was well trained. So maybe bubblegum wasn't his thing, but he could work with this.

The sound of Pepper's heels on the wood floor gave away their arrival. Tony straightened his jacket and smoothed his worn AC/DC tour shirt and made himself look busy as if he hadn't spent his morning waiting around.

Pepper knocked before pushing open the door. "Mr. Stark? Peter Parker is here to see you."

She stepped back to let him through and what came through the door was even better than the images on Tony's screens. Peter Parker blushed from the tip of his nose to the bottom of his jaw. His lips were wrapped around the straw of his pink and fruity looking Starbucks drink, but his mouth seemed to drop when he saw Tony. The pink fur coat and the pale blue skinny jeans were in his signature style, but it was another thing to see it in person.

"Glad you could make it, Mr. Parker." Tony smiled. He walked around the desk to clasp his hand. It was soft and manicured.

"Thanks for seeing me, Mr. Stark. And please call me Peter." His eyes flicked down like he couldn't bear to look him in the eye.

"Of course, Peter." Tony smiled as he walked back to his desk. He pulled out the chair in front and gestured for Peter to sit down. As he walked past Tony caught the scent of his cotton candy perfume. It made him want to grab him by the throat and find out what his skin tasted like. He dragged himself around the desk before he could cross a line.

The young man was nervous at first but when they got through the small talk and started to talk business he lit up. He had done his homework and knew exactly what he wanted and what it would take to get there. Tony was no less than impressed.

Things were going so well and Tony had even managed to reign in the dirty thoughts that Peter's blushing cheeks and babbling lips conjured up. Then the phone rang. Tony sighed, eyes cutting toward the thing without meaning to give away his annoyance.

"It's okay, Mr. Stark. I'm sure that's important."

"Thanks, Pete. I wouldn't but I would be crucified." Tony picked up the phone and put some enthusiasm into his voice. He loved his wife, but things weren't exactly going well these days. She didn't understand his passion for music and the spark he once felt for her faded every day. It didn't help with the guilt, though.

Tony put the phone down after a brief conversation about dinner plans because of course she didn't take his work seriously enough to let something like that wait. He took a slow breath. Then he looked at Peter.

He looked completely out of place in the decor of the room. The walls were a deep burgundy. The floor and furnishings were dark wood. There were pops of gold here and there and it reflected on Peter's face as he admired the awards on the wall. The yellow lights made his curls appear cast in gold.

"Sorry about that."

Peter smiled at him. "That's okay. Was that your wife?" He bit his lip.

"Yep..." Tony stared too long at that lip caught between chemically whitened teeth. Peter stared back.

Tony cleared his throat. "Something caught your eye?" He nodded toward the wall.

"You're just so..." Peter looked again at his awards. Most were for his bands. Others for his solo album. Tony stood and walked around the desk to join him. That admiration... He missed that. He craved it.

"You're so talented, Mr. Stark." There was that blush again. Spreading down his neck. Tony was mesmerized, stepping closer and closer. His eyes followed that blush down until it disappeared under his coat. He stopped way too close. His breath moved a loose hanging curl.

"You think so, Pete?"

Peter stared at him, stiff and breathing heavy. He slowly turned towards him. His eyes moved down to Tony's lips like an invitation. So he took it.

Peter moaned and for a moment his legs went weak leaving Tony to catch him with a hand on his back. Then he was pushing up to get more, putting his weight against him. Tony's hands were everywhere, mussing his curls, squeezing his ass, under his shirt. Tony pushed him back into the wall and he whimpered.

"Please, Mr. Stark," he gasped against his lips.

"What is it, baby?"

"Fuck me, please."

Tony grabbed him. One hand in his hair the other on his neck. He dragged him across the floor and over to his desk to sit him up on it. He squeaked when Tony picked him up. His legs wrapped around him, pulling him in, rubbing his crotch against Tony's hip. He was pushing the limit of those skinny jeans.

Tony paused as he remembered where they were and what this was supposed to be. He had a lot of power in this room.

He stopped and pulled away to look him in the eye. "You want this, Peter? It doesn't change anything about our agreement."

"God, yes please. I'll die if you stop now."

Tony took his mouth again. The boy moaned. His hands clung to Tony's arms. He was openly grinding against him now. One his hands pressed between Tony's legs. He whimpered against his lips.

"You like that, baby?" Tony smirked.

Peter looked up at him with dark eyes. "Let me ride you."

Brain melting, Tony could only nod and let Peter push him back into his chair. He let Peter do the work of unbuckling his belt then they got his pants down together. He wasn't sure how Peter got those skin tight jeans off so easily, but somehow they were on the floor.

"Lube? Condoms?" Peter asked.

Tony nodded and grabbed the desk drawer and Peter took what he wanted.

"So you do this a lot huh?"

Tony shrugged. "Not like I used to."

Peter grinned. "I find that hard to believe. Maybe you're not a rock star these days, but who doesn't want to fuck you?"

"Besides my wife?"

Peter pushed his fingers through his hair, eyes flitting around his face. "She doesn't know what she's missing."

Tony swallowed. That was a little more sincere than he was prepared for, but he wasn't left with enough brain cells to think about it when Peter started sinking down on his cock. He'd almost fucking forgot what a nice tight ass felt like and Peter was squeezing him like nothing else. He panted hard and Tony put his hands on his hips to slow him. It seemed they were both out of practice. Curious for a popular boy like Peter.

"Easy, baby. We've got all the time in the world."

"I need your cock so bad," Peter insisted.

"You're too tight, sweetheart. Gotta take it slow. Come here." Tony pulled him forward, distracting him with a kiss. Gradually, Peter managed to take more of him. It took everything he had to let Peter go at his own pace, slowly riding him as he adjusted. He whimpered sweetly, eyes squeezing shut as he was overwhelmed. Tony slipped his hand between them to stroke Peter's cock, keeping in time with the movement of his hips.

Peter's hands gripped his shoulders. He looked down at his face and their eyes locked together. He lifted up and came down, gasping each time he each filled. As he moved faster and deeper, Tony moved faster with him. Peter took it as encouragement building up slowly until he was riding him with all he had and Tony's poor office chair was creaking in time with the motion.

"Fuck, Mr. Stark," Peter moaned. "Your cock-"

"You feel so good, sweetheart. You're doing so good."

"Wanna make you cum." He chewed his lip. Tony moaned. It wouldn't take long. Peter was so fucking hot and tight and the endurance... fuck could he ride his dick.

"I'm close, baby. Keep going."

Peter moaned. He bent and kissed him. Tony grabbed the back of his head and held him tight, tugging his hair at the root and fucking his mouth with his tongue. Peter whimpered, never slowing. His legs shook but he didn't stop. And Tony came, groaning his name, gasping for air. Peter took his cock all the way down and came into Tony's pumping fist. His cries surely carried through the dark walls.

Both of them sat panting and willing to move. Tony pulled him close and kissed him sweetly until he finally pulled away and gingerly climbed out of his lap. Tony watched him clean up and squeeze back into his pants. They both looked at each and laughed.

"That wasn't uh..." Peter rubbed the back of his neck.

"No yeah-" Tony chuckled. "That's not what this meeting was for, no. Not that I'm complaining."

"Yeah. Absolutely. No complaints." He grinned. Somehow he was blushing harder now.

Tony cleaned himself up and looked down at his t-shirt. He shot Peter a look and the boy grimaced.

"Was that uh..."

"An original 1981 world tour shirt from Madison Square Garden? It was."

Peter winced. "Uh... sorry?"

Tony sighed. "I'll let you make it up to me."

"Oh yeah?"

"Yeah. You can sign one for me on your tour next year."

"And that will make it up to you?"

"Well no, this was a fucking AC/DC tour shirt. But the cash when you sell the place out will."

Peter laughed, shaking his head. "Deal."

#ily bats #starker #popstar au

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sarcastich · 4 years ago

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I AM FUCKING SOBBING I LOVE THIS. THANK YOU.

*rides in on a scooter*

starker prompt? yeah, okay.

baking class!au, no powers

tony’s signed up for a baking class because he wants to know how to bake properly. for morgan.

enter peter, the absolute twink of a chef in his baby blue apron.

so like, how could tony not wanna rail kiss him.

cue the cheesy “you got flour on your nose” lines

tony making a batch of heart shaped cookies and giving peter one

peter getting fucked by tony in nothing but his pretty little apron

honestly, the story could go however you want it to go but only if it ends with peter getting bent over a cooking station.

*scooters out* ly

This took me so long I’m so fucking sorry and then tumblr ate version one to top it off soooo yeah

Thanks for being so patient with me dear! Finally, I've got this as good as I think it's gonna get. I hope you like it! despite the horrendous wait and me misreading the prompt to be cooking instead of baking lmao 🤦‍♀️

Tony Stark was never meant to be a dad.

Look — genius, billionaire, playboy, philanthropist, yada yada yada, whatever the fuck else they called him — he could do all that. But parenting?

He didn’t have parents. Just look at how his dad treated him — it wasn’t exactly A+ parenting. And his own interactions with kids were also less than ideal — which is to say, practically nonexistent. He’s terrified of interacting with them, terrified of fucking them up like the adults in his life had a hand in doing to him.

But he loves Morgan. There’s no denying that. Even though he and her mother were never going to work out, and he can see that now, he doesn’t regret having her. He and Pepper are amicable enough that there’s no need for things like custody agreements, but the fact of the matter is that she’s the CEO of his company, now. She works. He invents and freelances as he feels the urge to. He’s the obvious choice to be the primary caregiver of Morgan.

And he loves that. He loves being a stay-at-home dad and he loves being able to spend time with her and spoil her and be there for her milestones without having to worry about things like money. The only problem is that his stay-at-home dad skills are… well… rather lacking, to say the least.

He’s trying, he really is. When she was smaller, it was easy. Changing diapers and making bottles and holding her when she needed to be held and dealing with her crying — it wasn’t like he had ever slept much to begin with. As she gets older, he’s growing with her — learning how to do hair and match girls’ outfits and teaching her to do all of the things she needs to know how to do. But for all his genius, there’s one thing he just can’t seem to teach himself, and that’s cooking.

He’s tried, for sure. But he really just doesn’t know how to cook. He never needed to; he had the money to either pay people to do it for him or to get whatever takeout or premade food his heart desired. It wasn’t like he’d ever really had healthy eating habits anyways. And when Morgan was little, it wasn’t so much of a problem, but… she’s getting bigger now, and they can’t live off takeout and freezer food and the four other meals he can make (which mostly consist of breakfast and pasta) forever.

So… he’d enrolled in a cooking class.

He’d looked at it mostly out of a sense of morbid curiosity, at first (and a little because of Pepper’s pushing; he couldn’t be the primary caregiver of a child he couldn’t adequately feed, after all). But it wasn’t as if he couldn’t afford it and with Pepper going to work and Morgan starting preschool now, well… he didn’t really have a reason not to. What else was he going to do to keep himself busy?

So that’s how he finds himself at a little culinary school in downtown Queens, wearing one of those stupid flowery aprons and waiting for class to start.

And that’s how he meets Peter Parker.

Frankly, the last thing he’d expected from the chef with so many qualifications by his name was for him to be a certified twink that looked like he could barely be legal.

But he is. The boy walks in wearing a powder blue apron with wild curls and doe eyes, making everyone fall silent — with shock or respect or something else — when he immediately asserts himself at the chef’s counter in the front of the room and turns to face them all.

Tony is in love from day one. Peter — their instructor, who is, in fact, legal, at 24 — is an expert at his craft. He’s smart, quick-witted, and assertive, but also kind and patient with all of them. He doesn’t take any shit from anyone, but he is a great teacher, as well.

Though Tony would normally immediately dismiss his attraction as surface level and unrequited, he actually only finds himself more fascinated with each new tidbit of personality that Peter shares with them throughout their lessons. Peter’s confidence and skill are just as attractive as his outward features, and the fact that he has snappy quips in response to all of Tony’s playful flirting does nothing to deter Tony’s growing interest.

He checks all of Tony’s boxes, even the ones he’s not realizing he had until now. What else can he say?

And he makes real progress, too, which is almost a miracle in and of itself. Slowly, after almost a month’s worth of lessons, he’s beginning to understand not just the basics of most recipes but he also has a good amount of dishes that he’s been taught to cook in healthy rotation at the house.

After a month’s worth of lessons is also when he finally gets up the courage to ask Peter out.

He’s hesitant to date again after Pepper, and not really sure how Morgan would handle it, honestly. He’s also worried about Peter finding him creepy, what with him being a little over ten years older than him. But Peter hasn’t seemed bothered by his passing flirting so far, so… maybe he can shoot his shot. And if Peter says no, well, he’s made enough progress that if he can’t ever show his face here again, he thinks he’ll be okay.

He lingers at his workstation after class one day until everyone but Peter and him have filed out, then makes his way to the front of the room.

Peter looks surprised to still see someone in the room when he looks up, but not unpleasantly so. He smiles. “Oh, hey, Tony. Can I help you with something?”

Tony nearly freezes up, both frazzled by Peter’s smile and his own nerves, but he forces himself to take a breath. “Actually, yes. About that dish we cooked today…”

Peter leans against his countertop, looking concerned. “Yeah? Did yours not turn out again? I can—“

“No, it’s not that,” Tony interrupts with a little smile, knowing that Peter will go on a ramble if he doesn’t stop him now. It’s endearing, normally, but Tony’s afraid to lose his nerve if he sits through it right now. “I was actually wondering if maybe I could make it for you, sometime.”

It seems to take a moment for the words to register completely, and Peter straightens when they do, sighing a little. “Oh… Tony…”

“Aaaand that’s a no, isn’t it?” Tony hisses a breath through his teeth. “Okay. I get it. Don’t worry, I won’t ask again—“

“No, it’s not like that!” Peter sets a hand on his arm. “I’m sorry, I lead with the wrong thing, I guess. I just… I know who you are, Tony. The divorce and all that… I like you too, but I’m not interested in playing the rebound game. Been there and done that before. Thanks but no thanks. So if that’s what you’re looking for…”

“It’s not,” Tony assures. He’s surprised to realize as soon as he says it that it’s true; he’s not interested in one night stands any more. Especially not with Morgan in the house. “I’m talking about a date. A real date. Maybe we could cook something simple together — make dinner or maybe cookies, or something?”

“Cookies,” Peter echoes, sounding a little surprised, but before Tony can panic about it, the younger man smiles, and Tony realizes he seems pleased by the offer. “I suppose we could do that. Though there’s easier ways to get free private lessons than asking me to dinner, Tony.”

Tony opens and closes his mouth a few times before getting a grip on himself, unexpectedly flustered by the words. “I’m not— I mean, I would never—“

“Relax, Tony. I’m kidding. I don’t actually believe that’s why you’re flirting with me. It’s not like you couldn’t afford to pay for private lessons if that’s all you really wanted.” Peter smiles a little and shakes his head. “I actually own this building — my apartment is upstairs. If you want to meet me here and pick me up, say, tomorrow evening at 6?”

Tony relaxes the longer Peter talks, nodding at the end. “I’d be glad to. See you then?”

“Sounds good. Good night, Tony.”

“Goodnight, Peter.”

Pepper used to tell him that he’d be late for his own funeral.

So it must be a marker of how excited he is for this date that he shows up right on time to get Peter. He hesitates just inside the door to the building, unsure if Peter is coming down to meet him or if he should hunt for the way to the apartment.

Thankfully, Peter appears at the top of the stairs a few minutes after he arrives, dressed more causally than he’s ever seen him in a pair of dark jeans and a punny tee shirt. He’s got a backpack over his shoulder and a jacket on his arm, and his curls are even wilder without his hat on. Honestly, he looks more like a student than an award-winning chef.

Peter smiled shyly at him as he descends the stairs. “Hey. Ready to go?”

“If you are.” Tony bites his lip, forcing himself to tear his eyes from him so that he can open the door for them both. “You look great, by the way.”

Peter flushes. “I was just going for casual, since I didn’t really want to wear baking clothes on a date but I didn’t want to wear anything I might ruin if we do cook, either.”

“Well, it was a good choice. And I was serious about cooking for you, if you want, though I wouldn’t object to learning how to make those cookies if you’re in the mood to teach me how…”

Peter smiles. “I brought just the right apron for the occasion, I think.”

~~~

Dinner is perfect.

Tony cooks, mostly, with a bit of help from Peter, and under his patient guidance everything goes so smooth that Tony can hardly believe he did it himself. He’d organized a babysitter for Morgan for the evening, so the penthouse is quiet except for the two of them. One of Peter’s playlists is on at a low volume in the background as they cook and talk and eventually settle down to eat in good spirits.

The one wrinkle in the night comes just as they’re finishing their meal.

As they both finish the last of their dinner, Tony gets up to take both of their plates and put them in the sink. When he turns around, Peter is almost directly behind him, close enough that his arm brushes Peter’s when he spins. He stops, tilting his head down a little to look at the younger man. “Hello…”

“Hi.” Peter smiles a little, looking up at him with those pretty doe eyes, somehow paralyzing him, making him forget exactly what he was going to say two seconds ago.

“Um… hi,” he repeats, then gives himself a little shake. “Are you quite full? I know I haven’t quite surpassed the master, but I hope it was satisfactory, at least.”

“It was good, Tony. You did really good. Your improvement has been amazing.” Peter smiles. “You still up for learning to make a dessert?”

“I’m up for anything with you,” Tony responds, maybe a little too quickly and definitely a little too honestly, if the way Peter’s expression flickers is anything to go by. He backpedals quickly, “In terms of dessert, I mean. I didn’t mean for that to sound—“

“I know you didn’t,” Peter interrupts, putting a hand on Tony’s chest to calm him down. “But even if you didn’t, I think we both know that you meant it. And lucky for you… so do I.”

Tony doesn’t get a chance to respond to that before Peter is kissing him, but he finds he doesn’t mind. He slips his arms around the younger man after only a moment’s hesitation, and then he’s setting him on the counter with his hands settling on his hips and Peter’s hands are untucking his shirt and sliding up his stomach while he tugs the knot free of Peter’s apron and—

A knock sounds at the front door.

They break apart, both breathing hard. It only takes a moment for the rapping to start again, breaking the spell. Tony makes a low noise of frustration in his throat but pulls away, stalking to the door as Peter hops off the counter and straightens himself out enough to follow.

As it turns out, Morgan isn’t feeling well, so the babysitter brought her home. Tony gets her inside and settled down in her room, then returns to Peter.

“Sorry about that. I thought I had her all taken care of for the night, but… duty calls.” He leans against the counter. “So, uh, dessert then?”

“Sounds good to me.” Peter kisses his cheek. “What do you have the stuff to make?”

“I think I have everything we would need to make cookies, if that’s still what you want to do.”

“Let’s do it, then.”

Tony doesn’t have quite the same ineptitude for picking up baking as he has cooking, and in no time at all the kitchen is a mess. It doesn’t help that Tony drops a whole bag of flour while trying to fill a measuring cup, and suddenly they’re covered head to toe in an explosion of white and laughing so hard they’re practically rolling in it, too.

“Daddy?”

Morgan’s voice echoes out just a second before she rounds the corner, and Tony straightens up immediately, though he’s still grinning, unable to help it. “Hey, baby. Feeling okay?”

“Um, a bath helped,” she murmurs, looking at them with wide eyes. “You need a bath?”

“Probably,” Tony agrees. “Shouldn’t you be going to bed if you’re done with your bath, little miss?”

She looks down, hiding most of her face in the stuffed animal she’s cradling against her chest. “Don’ wanna be alone, daddy.”

Tony hesitates, looking over at Peter, but the younger man just smiles and walks over to his daughter before he can respond, crouching to be on her level. “Well, your daddy and I are making cookies, Morgan. I’m sure he wouldn’t mind if you joined us for a while, right?” He looks up at Tony. “They’ll be going in the oven soon. You can have a few of the first batch as a snack before you go off to bed. How’s that sound?”

Morgan nods, but she looks a little wary. “Am I gonna look like a snowman too if I help? Because I just got a bath, so…”

Peter laughs. “No. You won’t get messy, I promise. C’mon.” He offers her his hand, and she takes it, seeming satisfied with the answer. He helps her climb up to sit on the kitchen island, where she’s out of the splash zone but still has a good view of their cooking and can help with little things.

It turns out to be a learning experience for all of them. Tony and Morgan both learn how to make cookies. Peter has never taught a child to cook before, but Morgan is a good listener and a quicker learner, just like her dad, so it’s much easier than he feared. Peter lets Morgan do most of the menial tasks — pouring, mixing, cracking — while Tony holds the bowl, and he explains everything to both of them. Then he puts the dough on the tray while Tony helps Morgan clean up, and pops it in the oven.

“There! Cookies will be done in just a few minutes,” Peter announces with a smile.

“And then we can eat them?” Morgan hops off the stool she was using to reach the sink and shakes her hands dry.

Tony shuts off the water and towels off his hands. “When they’re cool enough, little miss. C’mon, let’s go get you settled. I’ll bring you a few when they’re done.”

Morgan pouts but doesn’t argue, letting her father lead her back to bed. Peter watches them go with a little smile, killing time by beginning to clean up some of their mess.

“You didn’t have to do that, you know.”

Peter looks up, surprised, but just shrugs. He hadn’t heard Tony come back in. “I always clean up after myself.”

“Well, yeah, I appreciate that, but— I meant with Morgan.” Tony grabs another rag to help him clean. “You did really well with her, though.”

Peter’s cheek color a little. “I don’t get to be around them very often, but I like kids. And I didn’t mind including her. She was helpful, actually. Besides, maybe letting her sit in on the lesson will help you in the long run. She can tutor you the next time you need to make cookies and I’m not around,” he teases with a little nudge.

Tony gasps, throwing a hand over his heart in mock-offense. “How rude. And here I thought I was doing well.”

Peter giggles. “You are doing well… for a beginner.” At Tony’s look, he grins. “Im joking. Mostly. You’ve done really well, Tony. This was no exception. It’s nice to see the hard work pay off with a student. It’s yet to be seen whether the same will be said in my absence, but…”

“I’d rather not find out.”

“Huh?” Peter looks confused.

“I said I’d rather not find out. How I’ll do in your absence, I mean.” Tony looks back at him. “I don’t particularly like the idea of you not being around. If only because I don’t want to do it all on my own.”

“Oh.” Peter smiles, though he’s blushing a little again as he sets the rag down. “Is that your way of asking me on a second date?”

Tony tilts his head, turning to face him fully when Peter stops. “Well… maybe? I mean, I’d love to, if you’d be interested, but… I know this has been kind of a disaster date, so…”

Peter just laughs. “It hasn’t been a disaster. Sure, we made a mess, and we had some unexpected guests, but… I had fun. And really, it’s not over yet, right? I at least want some of these cookies before I go.”

Tony laughs too. “Yeah, that sounds fair. I think I can spare a few.”

They continue cleaning the kitchen together until the oven beeps. Then they pull out the fresh cookies and set them out to cool. Peter puts the baking trays in the sink as Tony puts a few and a glass of milk on a little plate to take to Morgan.

"I need a shower," Tony sighs as he returns to the kitchen, settling in beside him with a little groan. "As Morgan so kindly reminded me. And I have a feeling that 'snowman' is going permanently on my list of nicknames."

Peter laughs. "There are worse things to be called," he points out as he bites into his cookie.

"Definitely," Tony agrees. He picks up one of his cookies, studying it for a moment.

"Anyway..." Tony looks up as Peter continues, taking a bite of his cookie and offering a little smile. "I think it's safe to say we both need a shower."

"True. You have flour on your... Well, everywhere."

Peter laughs. "I'd say we both have flour everywhere. It was totally worth it, but I'm ready to get cleaned up."

"Oh. Yeah, that makes sense. Let me throw on some different clothes at least, and I can take you home." Secretly, he's a bit disappointed -- and more than ready for a shower himself -- but he understands what Peter is saying. He's ready to go home, which is more than understandable.

"You're going to change? I thought you were showering?" Peter finishes his cookie and dusts off his hands, frowning a little.

Tony's eyes are drawn to the movement for a moment before he snaps out of it. "I... Yeah, but you're ready to go home, so..."

"I'm... Not ready to go home. Not really." Peter looks down, cheeks reddening. "I was kind of hoping... Well, if you just want to take me home, that's fine-"

"No, wait, I... you didn't finish. You were hoping...?" Tony steps forward, tilting his chin up with two fingers.

Peter lowers his eyes. "Well, I mean, considering what we almost did earlier... I didn't figure it was too much of a stretch... that you might want to shower together?" He flicks his gaze back up to Tony's, and then away, blushing again. "But if you don't want to..."

"Are you kidding? If Morgan hadn't showed up, I'd have bent you over this counter by now in nothing but that apron if you'd let me." The words come out almost before he can think to stop them, but he doesn't want to, anyway. "But I don't want to pressure you into anything, either. Just because we were making out doesn't mean I expect something from you."

"I know. But I want to." Peter leans into his touch a little. "And I'd really like you to kiss me again."

"Well, in that case... Since you asked so politely..." Tony teases, cupping his face more fully.

They're both smirking a little when they kiss again, and Peter is full on laughing when they pull away a minute later, puffing out hints of white as he does.

"What's so funny?" Tony asks, mock-affronted. He's not exactly used to having someone laugh when they kiss him.

Peter giggles. "Your lips taste like flour."

At that, Tony can't help but crack a smile too. "Oh, and you think you taste any better?"

"I'm sweet," Peter retorts with a grin. "Like... Our cookies."

"Yeah, okay." Tony scoffs and steps back, but he's unable to keep himself from grinning back as he holds out a hand to help Peter up. "I call truce. Let's say we both go shower and brush our teeth and see how things go from there, hm?"

Peter takes it and hops up. "Sounds good to me." He kisses his cheek. "Lead the way, Mr. Stark."

And Tony does.

#if i was an asshole id give you shit about how long it took #but im not #so i wont #except it took REALLY long but oml im so fuckin haply #haply. im not fixing that.#starker #starker fanfiction #cooking fic

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