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late-to-the-party-81 · 7 months

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New starts happen all the time

AN: Here I am, still clearing out my outstanding requests, and it's been a minute since I wrote some Starker

Anonymous asked: Peter Parker sleeps with tony and makes the mistake of wearing his boyfriends favorite boyband t-shirt to school. Request

Now, I know this is probably not the story you thought you were going to get with this prompt, but the muse does what it does. I hope you all enjoy anyway. I now know more about Engineering classes at MIT than I ever thought I would know. Also, no massive age gaps here, only about 3-4 years.

Unbeta'd, so apologies for typos and rogue comma's.

Likes are loved, reblogs are golden.

Mood board by me and dividers by @firefly-graphics

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Summary: MIT is still a big adjustment, even when you are gifted, and bullies still exist, so it’s a good job Peter falls at Tony’s feet.

Relationship: College Peter Parker x College Tony Stark

Word Count: 6.4k

CW: College AU, No Powers, Strangers to friends, Friends to lovers, developing relationship, Gay Peter Parker, Pansexual Tony Stark, insecure Peter Parker, inexperienced Peter Parker, Supportive Tony Stark, Confident Tony Stark, Fluff, Angst, Bullying, name calling, attempted Sexual Assault, Background Rhodey/Maria, BAMF Maria Hill, Justin Hammer is a douche, Explicit Sexual content (oral sex, mutual masturbation).

“Watch it, nerd!”

Peter tried to right himself as he bounced off the shoulder of whoever had just shouted at him. He had hoped that once he’d swapped Midtown High for the hallowed halls of MIT that he wouldn’t have to deal with this sort of thing any more. However it appeared that college, even one where technically every student was a nerd or a geek, was still slave to the various cliques and sub-groups. The jocks were definitely those who majored in Astronautics, and those who studied Business Analytics liked to look down on everyone else, assured of the fact that their degrees would lead to higher paying jobs than someone doing a lowly science or engineering degree.

He readjusted the pile of books in his arms as he tried to work out if he was going the right way. Two weeks into his Freshman year and he still hadn’t gotten the layout of campus straight in his head. It didn’t help that he’d decided to Double Major in both Electrical and Mechanical Engineering, so always seemed to be coming and going.

And now he was late for his next class.

He hiked his backpack higher on his shoulder and started to jog towards his destination. However, the infamous Parker luck was once again on his side, or not, as the case may be, and suddenly he found himself tripping over a stone, or maybe it was even his own feet, and crashing to the ground.

For a few moments, Peter lay dazed, the taste of gritty dirt and the tang of iron in his mouth.

“Hey, kid,” a voice called out, “are you alright?”

Peter pushed himself up with a groan and shook his head to try and clear it.

“Be careful,” the voice said, closer than it was a moment ago, and suddenly there were a pair of hands gripping his upper arms, easing him into a sitting position. He blinked a couple of times, the way the sunlight was falling onto his face making him wince, but then the light was blocked out by a body and Peter gasped.

Back in highschool he had wondered why he wasn’t really interested in girls the way the other boys were. It had taken him a while to realise that he was gay, and once he’d made that revelation, he wondered why it had taken him so long to work it out. He supposed that it was all down to a hetero-normative society and all that.

However, if he were still in any doubt, the sight of the man before him and the way he was affecting Peter’s equilibrium - although maybe that was from his fall - was enough to bring his own understanding of his sexuality into crystalline focus.

“I hope you haven’t got a concussion, kid. But you do have a nasty cut on your lip.”

The guy was speaking but all Peter could focus on was his features, his tousled brown hair, thick eyebrows, equally dark eyes, perfectly straight nose and pouty pink lips.

“Here, have some water.”

As a water bottle was pressed to his lips, the pressure against the cut he’d apparently sustained jerked Peter back to reality. He took hold of the bottle with shaking hands and gulped down a few mouthfuls, eager to remove the horrible taste from his mouth.

“Umm, thanks,” he stammered out and tried to pass the bottle back to his erstwhile rescuer.

“Keep it. You might want it later, and to be honest, it has your blood on it, and while I’m kinky, I’m not that kinky.”

At the strangers words, Peter felt himself blush, because firstly, he was currently a vanilla as they came - mainly due to circumstance than anything else - and secondly, it conjured all sorts of images to his mind that he should not be having about someone he just met, regardless of how attractive they were.

“Thanks. Again.” Jeez, Parker. Way to show off your vocabulary.

“No problem, kid. Where’re you heading to in such a hurry?”

Horror swept over Peter’s face and he leapt to his feet, although he wobbled a bit.

“Shit, I’m gonna be late to Professor Hart’s class on Systems Design.” He desperately tried to pick up all of his books, but as soon as he bent over the world started to spin. He’d have fallen again if it hadn’t been for the stranger taking hold of him again.

“Hey, be careful,” he cautioned, before steering Peter over to a bench. “Let me.”

Peter watched as the other man collected all of his scattered belongings, trying not to stare at the way his ass filled out his jeans as he bent over. When he returned with all of Peter’s books stacked in his arms and Peter’s backpack over his shoulder, Peter looked away, worried about being caught staring. Some guys got weird about other guys looking at them, and Peter didn’t have enough experience to have a working gaydar yet.

“Come on then, let’s get you there.”

Confusion wrinkled Peter’s brow. “What do you mean? Get me where?”

His rescuer smiled at him. “Your class. I’m going the same way.”

“Oh. Umm, okay. Thanks.” Maybe it was head trauma that was affecting his ability to speak with any eloquence?

Peter stood up, and winced as he moved his left knee, actually glad that his hopefully new friend was carrying his stuff for him.

“I’m Peter, by the way. Peter Parker.”

“Tony,” the other man replied. “Tony Stark.”

It turned out that not only was Tony a fellow student, but being a Senior he was also a TA. Like Peter he was also a double major, taking Electrical Engineering as well, but had paired it with Biological Engineering. Therefore, with Tony assisting in some of the EE classes, Peter started to see him fairly often.

“You did well today, kid.” Peter willed himself not to blush at the praise as Tony clapped him on the shoulder as they left the Introductions to Algorithms class.

“Thanks, Tony. Once I’d got my head around the paradigm shift it wasn’t too bad. Thanks for help with that.”

The pair of them walked together towards one of the coffeeshops and Tony playfully judged his shoulder against Peter’s.

“No problem. Anything for a pretty face.”

Peter had also learnt a couple of other things about Tony over the last few weeks. Firstly, due to a combination of his outgoing, charismatic nature and the fact that he - or rather his father - was loaded, Tony was one of the most popular people on campus. People were always stopping him to say hi, and Tony generally had a friendly word for all of them.

Secondly, Tony was into heavy metal. Like really into it. He was always wearing a t-shirt plastered with the picture of one band or another; AD/DC, Black Sabbath, Pantera etcetera, often humming a tune under his breath when he was concentrating.

Thirdly, he was a massive flirt who’s love language was definitely physical affection. The first time that Peter had met Tony’s best friend and roommate, James Rhodes, Tony had been walking arm in arm with him, and when they’d stopped so James could peel off towards his Military Sciences class, Tony had given him a smacking kiss on the cheek. When Peter had tentatively asked if James was Tony’s boyfriend, the brash senior had just laughed.

“Nah. Rhodey’s as straight as a flag pole, more’s the pity. Why, you vying for the position?” He’d thrown Peter a theatrical wink and chuckled as Peter had gone bright pink. From then on he seemed to make it his mission to make Peter blush as much as possible, which didn’t help with Peter’s promise to himself to not think about Tony ‘that way’.

However, by and large, Tony had become his best friend. Sure, as the weeks passed Peter had gotten to know others in his classes and was building himself a circle of peers that he got on well with, but it wasn’t the same. He knew that he was infatuated by Tony, but who wouldn’t be. He was handsome, clever and popular, and Peter loved basking in his radiance. It also didn’t hurt that when he was hanging around with Tony other students were less likely to pick on him. Unfortunately he couldn’t spend all his time with the older boy, and was therefore still subjected to the kind of taunts he’d thought he’d left behind. At least no-one was trying to shove him in a locker.

The fall semester progressed, the leaves turning brown and dropping to the ground, and before Peter knew it he was visiting home for Thanksgiving weekend. While it was nice to catch up with his Aunt May and his old school friends, Ned and MJ, he found himself waiting to go back for those last few weeks before Winter Break. He also couldn’t hold back his blush when Aunt May questioned him about whether he’d met anyone special. It was true that he had, but it wasn’t like that between him and Tony, no matter how much Peter liked to fantasise about it. He and Tony were friends and, yes, the older boy liked to flirt with him, but that was who Tony was, he told himself. It didn’t mean anything, even if Tony didn't discriminate about who he liked . So Peter had lied and said he hadn’t, and if May didn’t believe him - which from the pointed look she gave him she most certainly didn’t - she was good enough not to raise the subject again.

Returning to campus on the other side of the long weekend, Peter made his way straight over to see Tony.

“Hey kid, good to see ya. Have a fun time with la familia?” Tony opened the door with a broad smile and gestured for Peter to make himself at home on the ratty couch.

Peter grinned at Tony’s jovial tone and threw himself down on the saggy brown cushions.

“Yeah. It was okay. Nice to catch up with my aunt and my friends, but I’m back and ready to work hard all the way up to Winter Break.”

Tony sat down next to him, clutching a bottle of beer by its neck.

“Well as long as you don’t work so hard you’re too tired to come to my Christmas party.”

Peter’s eyes went wide. “You’re inviting me?” he squeaked. “But I’m just me and you’re you.”

“Yes,” said Tony, “but you’re my friend and I want you there. No if’s, no but’s - unless it’s that cute butt of yours.” He pointed down at Peter’s backside and chuckled at the flush that appeared on his neck and cheeks. “You make it far too easy, Petey. I might really start to think you’ve got a crush on me.”

Somehow, Peter managed to regain his composure and continued to chat to Tony about Thanksgiving and the plans for the upcoming party until he realised it was time he ought to head back to his dorm. As he excused himself, and made his way to the door, Tony pulled him into a big hug.

“Can’t wait to see you at the party, kid.” He held onto Peter for what felt like a few moments too long, although Peter wasn’t going to complain. It felt nice to be held in someone’s arms, especially when they belonged to Tony. He gave his friend a shy smile.

“Can’t wait to be there. I’ll see you in class later in the week.”

Three weeks later, Peter jogged up the steps to Tony’s home, glad that his friend was holding his party somewhere he was familiar with. They’d seen a bit of each other over the last few weeks, but Peter had been busy making sure he was up to date on all his coursework, so that he could have a relaxed Winter Break. It was frustrating that he hadn’t gotten to hang out with Tony as much as he’d wanted, but it hadn’t stopped him from dreaming - and maybe other stuff - about the other boy, though.

He was nervous, though, and took a moment to smooth down his black t-shirt that he’d casually paired with some skinny jeans and a leather jacket. This was going to be the first big party he’d attended since starting at MIT, and he didn’t know that many of Tony’s friends aside from Rhodey. Also, the chances were that some of the attendees would be folk that didn’t view Peter as ‘popular’ material, despite Tony’s apparent endorsement of him. That guess was proved correct almost as soon as Peter had made it through the door, almost bumping right into Justin Hammer, who, like Rhodey, was majoring in Military Science.

“Oh, god.” Justin sneered. “Why doesn’t it surprise me that you’re here. Parker. You’re like a bad smell we can’t get rid of.” He threw back his head and guffawed loudly, his cronies laughing along with him. With his cheeks burning, but not wanting to make a scene, Peter ducked his head and moved further into the apartment, searching for Tony. He found him, predictably, in the kitchen. Equally predictably he was wearing one of his band shirts - a black one proclaiming his love of the band Black Sabbath.

Tony’s response to Peter’s arrival was the complete opposite to Justin’s. “Petey!” he cried, flinging his arms in the air, before pulling Peter into a crushing hug and planting a kiss on Peter’s cheek, dangerously near the corner of his mouth. “You made it!”

Keeping one arm firmly around Peter’s shoulder, Tony steered him over to where Rhodey and some other close friends were standing. “Let me introduce you to the gang.” Tony’s friends smiled as Peter was introduced to them, before turning back to their own conversations. Most were Seniors, like Tony and Rhodey, but one or two were Juniors.

“And this,” said Tony, “is Maria, the harlot who’s stolen my Platypus from me.” He clasped his hand dramatically over his heart and Peter giggled. The tall, brunette woman standing next to Rhodey rolled her eyes and then punched Tony in the arm.

“Can it, Stark,” she bit back, jokingly. “You still get to see him on weekends and holidays.” She then turned to Peter and held out her hand. “Nice to meet you, Parker. Thanks for keeping Tony occupied so Jim and I can have some time together without being interrupted.” Tony had the good grace to look a little embarrassed at her comment and Peter laughed again.

“No problem. For some reason I actually like him.”

Now it was Tony’s turn for the faux outrage. “Hey! I’m eminently lovable, I’ll have you all know.”

Rhodey clapped him on the shoulder. “We know, bud. We know. Now if you’ll excuse us, they’re playing our song.” He led Maria through the throngs of people towards the area that had been designated as the dance floor, all the while Tony looking on with his over the top pout.

Peter nudged him. “You’re happy for him really, aren’t you?”

“Oh definitely,” Tony agreed. “She’ll be good for him, and she also seems to be able to put up with me, so that’s good. Not that many people can.”

“I do,” Peter said vehemently. “And surely all the people here do as well.”

A small frown appeared on Tony’s face. “They put up with my money for the most part. I can probably count the number of true friends I have on less than two hands.” He looked at Peter, something in his expression morphing, and Peter found himself unable to look away. “I’m glad you’re one of them though, Peter.”

Tony lifted his hand, and for a moment it seemed to Peter as though his friend was going to brush his riotous curls away from his face, but then someone near them bumped against Tony and the moment was lost.

“Come on, kid. Let’s go mingle.”

Tony picked up a beer, and just gave Peter an understanding nod when he grabbed a soda for himself. Peter was glad that Tony wasn’t judging him or pressuring him to drink, given the fact that most of the other people at the party were, whether they were twenty-one or not.

They moved among the guests, Peter feeling like a sail boat being pulled along in the wake of a trawler. When Tony stopped to talk to someone, Peter hovered by his elbow, feeling a little awkward, but at the same time there was nowhere he’d rather be than basking in Tony’s radiance. He was like the sun, and Peter was the moon, absorbing what light he could, and reflecting back the rest to those around him. Peter wasn’t totally dependent on Tony, though. There were a few people there that he did know, and he took the opportunity to chat with them, and hopefully build up a bigger pool of friends. He was still at the beginning of his course. He’d be here for a few more years yet, and Tony, being a Senior, would finish at the end of this year and then who knows? It made Peter’s heart ache just to think about it.

It was inevitable that they’d get separated, but Peter wasn’t too worried. The apartment wasn’t that big and it wasn’t as though Tony was planning to leave his own home while the party was still in swing. It did mean, however, that there was more likelihood of Peter bumping into some he didn’t want to, like…

“Justin! I’m so sorry.” Peter rebounded off the other Senior’s arm with a loud exclamation and watched in horror as his soda sloshed out of the neck of the bottle and over the, no doubt, expensive fabric of Justin’s shirt.

“Parker! You dumb fuck!” Justin shouted back, slurring slightly, as he shook his arm to rid himself of some of the excess liquid. “I can’t even fathom why Stark lets someone like you hang on his coattails.” He peered at Peter, observing through the lens of his beer-goggles and Peter felt a shiver go down his spine as Justin’s expression turned into a leer. He took a step forward and Peter took an echoing one back. “Although,” he drawled, looking up and down Peter’s body, “I suppose that despite your stupidity you have other things going for you. Maybe you can make up for ruining my shirt? I’m sure Stark won’t mind sharing. You look like you could suck a dick well at least.” He stepped even closer, his cronies following at his back, caging Peter in. With how crowded it was, and the noise level, no-one would really be able to see him. Justin put his hand on Peter’s shoulder and pushed down, trying to get the younger boy down on his knees. “Come on - show me why Stark puts up with you.”

At the insinuation, Peter snapped.

With a shout he pushed up and back, shoving Justin away from him with all his strength and sent him staggering back into his friends. “Get off me!” he shouted, despite the fact his voice wouldn’t carry far. It was enough that a few people around them were starting to notice something was wrong. However, Justin’s pride, along with the amount of beer he’d drunk, made him decide to double down instead of quietly withdraw.

“You little shit. You should be thanking me for even paying you any notice.” He lunged forward, face red with anger and fisted his hand into Peter’s hair, making the younger man screw up his eyes and shout out in pain.

“Let. Go. Of. Him.” The menacing command came from behind Justin and he immediately complied, whirling around to look at the owner of the voice. Peter opened his eyes, overjoyed to see Tony there, but the feeling was muted by a deep embarrassment. Everyone was staring at them.

Tony walked right up into Justin’s space, but didn’t raise either his hands or his voice.

“Get out. You and your little crew. You’re not welcome here.”

Justin shook his head as if clearing it and stepped away from Tony with a small shrug.

“Whatever, man. The company isn’t as good as I thought it would be.” He started to walk towards the door, his friends a few steps ahead of him when he stopped and turned, unable to leave without having the last word. “Can’t believe you’re getting so bent out of shape over a rent-boy.”

Tony’s hands balled into fists and he stepped forward, a dangerous glint in his eye and Peter drew in a sharp breath, convinced that a fight was about to break out. However, Tony was stopped in his tracks as Maria clamped her hand down on his shoulder.

“It’s not worth it,” she hissed. “You know the Dean isn’t your biggest fan.” Tony seemed to be listening, because his shoulders slumped, the fight almost instantly draining from him.

“Pathetic,” Justin bit out. “I don’t know what everyone…”

His drunken tirade was cut off as Maria stepped forward and launched a perfect right jab at Justin’s nose, making his head snap back and causing red to bloom across his face. A couple of his friends caught him as he toppled toward the ground, but Maria was already walking back to Tony.

“I thought you said it wasn’t worth it?” Tony queried.

Maria shrugged as she shook out her hand. “The Dean likes me. And you really think Hammer is gonna complain that he got punched by a girl?”

Out of the corner of his eye, Peter saw Justin’s friends giving each other sideways glances before the decided discretion was the better part of valour and shuffled out of the door, holding up a dazed Justin between them. His attention was then caught by Rhodey, who appeared at Maria’s side, eyes sparkling. “Damn, baby! I have never been more attracted to you than I am right now.” Maria grinned back, cupped Rhodey’s face and started to make out with him.

Tony held up his hands. “Okay, okay. You two - get a room. Everyone else - back to partying now the trash has been removed. Petey-pie? You’re with me. I need to make sure you’re okay.”

Tony placed his hand on Peter’s shoulder to try and steer him, but he was feeling too keyed up - too embarrassed - so he shrugged it off. If Tony took umbrage at the gesture he didn’t show it, and instead just led the way to one of the only parts of the apartment Peter had never seen. Tony’s bedroom.

Peter was gnawing on his lower lip, too busy going over everything that Justin had said to really take in where he was, or that he was now sitting on Tony’s bed.

Is that what everyone thought, he wondered. That Tony only let Peter hang around because they were fucking? The thought was conflicting, because, yes, he would love to be fucking Tony, he couldn’t deny that, but he also knew that his worth as a person was not tied to who he was sleeping with - he and Tony had a real friendship and it pained him that others couldn’t just accept that.

Almost as though Tony could read his thoughts, or at least partly, Peter was brought back to the here and now when Tony crouched down in front of him and took hold of his hands. Tony peered up at him with sympathy filled eyes and his thumbs rubbed soothingly over the back of Peter’s knuckles. Or rather Peter assumed it was supposed to be soothing. However, it wasn’t having the intended effect because despite Tony’s affectionate nature he had never actually held Peter’s hands before. Which therefore meant that Peter was concentrating more on how it felt to really have Tony’s hands on him, than on calming down from his ordeal.

“Are you okay, kid? I’m sorry you had to deal with that.”

However, still full of frustration and hopped up on adrenaline, Peter shook Tony’s hands off and stood up in agitation

“Don’t call me that, Tony,” he practically shouted. “I’m not a kid, I’m eighteen.”

Tony raised his hands in supplication. “Noted. No more ‘kid’.”

However Peter wasn’t really listening, and was working off his energy by pacing up and down in front of Tony.

“Do you know what Justin was saying? Did you hear him? He thinks that you’re only friends with me because I let you fuck me.”

“And that would be bad,” Tony asked, tentatively, although Peter didn’t pick up on his tone. “If people think we’re fucking?”

“That’s not the point, Tony. It’s not about sex, it’s about the assumption that the only benefit to you is ass on tap, and the benefit to me is second-hand popularity.”

“Why would anyone with half a brain think that? And who cares what other people think, as long as we know the truth? You’re fun and brilliant, and you put up with me prattling on all the time. Like I am now. I should shut up. But before I do, can I just check. Would it, you know, be so bad, if we were?”

Finally, Peter picked up something questioning - unsure - in Tony’s voice and stopped moving.

“If we were what?” he asked, head cocked to the side.

“Umm, fucking. Shit! I mean…” Tony blew out a breath and looked up at the ceiling for a moment before continuing. “I really like you, Peter. Like ‘like you’ like you. Have done since we first met, in fact. I found myself hoping you’d fall at my feet figuratively, not just literally.”

Peter blinked, trying to process what Tony was saying, even as his verbal stream of consciousness continued.

“And I’ve just decided to do a Masters, so I’m going to be around past the end of this year, so I wondered if you’d like to be more than my friend, not that I don’t value your friendship. Quite the opposite in fact. I’ve been trying to let you know how I feel, but because I can be quite unsubtle I was trying to dial it back, so maybe I went too far the other way. But I got the feeling that you like me as well, and was hoping you’d be my boyfriend. And there doesn’t actually have to be sex. I don’t wanna presume that that’s something you want or are ready for… and fuck, I’m still rambling.”

Peter snapped back to reality and stepped forward, taking Tony’s hands in his, this time.

“Tony,” he interjected, a sudden boost of confidence taking him over.

“What?” Tony’s eyes were wide, like he was caught in the headlights of a semi.

“Shut up and kiss me.” Peter leaned in closer and pressed his lips to Tony’s.

For a moment Tony didn’t react, but then suddenly he was kissing Peter back and Peter was mentally punching the air in celebration. He’d been worrying so much that his crush on Tony would be unwanted, that somehow he’d failed to pick up on Tony’s signals. They’d probably talk and laugh about that later, but for now, Peter had singular focus.

He let go of Tony’s hands, so he could wrap his arms around Tony’s waist and pull him closer. At the same time he opened his mouth and teased the seam of Tony’s lips with his tongue. Tony’s hands came up to tangle in Peter’s hair as he accepted Peter’s deeping of their kiss.

It was only as his legs hit the edge of Tony’s bed that Peter realised they’d been moving, and had no idea which one of them had instigated it, but he smiled and chuckled into Tony’s mouth as they tumbled down onto it. Two pairs of lips and two pairs of hands roamed everywhere they could easily get, Tony pushing Peter’s jacket from his shoulders, and after a minute Peter broke away to pull his t-shirt over his head.

“God, Petey,” Tony exclaimed. “You’re so beautiful.” Then he pulled his own shirt off and surged back to capture Peter’s lips again.

Through all the kisses and the touching, both of them managed to shed their jeans, until only two thin layers of cotton separated them. Tony scraped his teeth over one of Peter’s pectorals, including his small, dark nipple, and Peter arched up with a gasp. Tony moved lower, kissing and nipping, until his face was nuzzling into the soft fabric between Peter’s hip and rigid cock.

“Can I, baby? I wanna make you feel good.”

Just the thought made Peter feel overwhelmed and he fisted the sheets as he whined.

“Y-Yeah. Oh, god.”

Tony pulled down Peter’s tight boxer-briefs and let out a sigh at the sight that greeted him. “I knew your cock would be just as pretty,” he said as he gently stroked over the soft skin with his index finger. Peter shuddered under the touch, so turned on that he was worried he was going to embarrass himself.

“I’m gonna kiss you now, and you just do what feels good, okay?” Tony soothed, and Peter just bit his lower lip and nodded.

The first touch of Tony’s lips on the shaft of his cock, mouthing up the vein that ran from root to tip, had Peter groaning wantonly. He wasn’t totally inexperienced, but there was no mistaking the fact that Tony had more skill than any of - admittedly few - previous lovers. When Tony flicked his tongue over Peter’s slit, lapping up the pre-cum that had gathered there, Peter thought he was going to fly into orbit and gripped the sheets with such ferocity he was convinced he was going to rip them. Tony carefully explored the head of Peter’s cock with his tongue, circling around the spongy tip and the underside of his ridge, tracing over his circumcision scar, and Peter? Peter whimpered.

“Shh, shh, baby. It’s okay. Just relax.” Tony’s words were whispered against the length of him, breath hot on his skin.

And then Tony finally took him into the warm cavern of his mouth. He must have been expecting it, because he didn’t make a move when Peter’s hips bucked at the sensation, his cock pushing deeper into Tony’s mouth. He let Peter get over his initial reaction before placing his hands carefully on Peter’s slim hips and starting to bob up and down. Peter could feel the way the flat of Tony’s tongue pressed against the underside of him and when he glanced down to actually look at what was going on he had to really fight the urge to just come, because Tony had swallowed all of him, that perfect, straight nose pressed right into the thatch of dark curls at the base of Peter’s cock.

“Fuck! Tony! Feels - feels amazing. Shit!”

Tony popped off and smirked up at him. “Such a potty mouth,” he quipped before taking Peter back in with a hum.

Peter suddenly found his left hand tangled in Tony’s hair, not really holding him in place, but more he just feeling him. It was getting harder and harder to hold back from coming, and while it would be bliss to spill himself into Tony’s mouth he didn’t want that for their first time together.

“Tony,” he whined and gave Tony’s hair a gentle tug, trying to communicate what he wanted with actions, given his brain didn’t want to let his mouth really work. Luckily for him Tony seemed to get the message and with obvious reluctance let Peter’s cock, wet and flushed pink, fall from his mouth as he slid his way up Peter’s body.

“What is it, Petey? What do you want?” Peter was sure he’d have had a better time answering if Tony hadn’t been nuzzling kissing his neck, but somehow he managed.

“Wanna feel you. Wanna feel us. Against each other.”

Tony lifted his head and smiled softly. “I got you, sweetcheeks. You just reach into that top drawer and get the lube and I’ll deal with these pesky underpants.”

Peter twisted at the waist, reaching up and to the side to pull open the drawer of the small wooden table and moved his hand around inside it until his fingers closed around a familiar feeling bottle. As he did that, he felt Tony pull his boxer-briefs, that had been tangled half way down around his knees, fully off. He turned his head back just in time to see Tony discard his own, and kneel by his side.

He was gay. Absolutely. Wow! He didn’t even realise he was reaching out until Tony chuckled.

“You wanna touch? Go ahead, baby. I’m all yours.”

Peter curled his fingers around Tony’s cock, immediately obsessed with the weight and feel of it in his hand. The way Tony’s eyes closed and his body shuddered as Peter lazily jerked him gave him a heady rush of power. On another occasion he’d love to just do this - touch Tony oh-so-softly - and see how long Tony would be able to hold out. However, his patience wouldn’t run to that now, so he urged Tony down to lie beside him. Peter squirted a healthy dollop of lube into his palm and slicked himself up, before doing the same to Tony. Then, lining his hips up to Tony’s, Peter wrapped his hand around the pair of them, pressing their cocks together.

For a moment, Peter couldn’t keep his eyes open, needing to block out one sense in order to deal with the overwhelming feeling of another, but when he did raise his eyelids again it was to find Tony looking back at him, brown eyes made even darker by lust. Tony leaned forward to capture Peter’s mouth for another ferocious kiss and then placed his own hand over Peter’s, helping him to jerk them both off.

The sounds of their sighs and moans, alongside the schlick-schlick of their cocks moving together, filled the room and Peter found himself rolling his hips, pressing up further and harder against Tony. He imagined what it would be like to do more with Tony, how they could discover those little things that made the other stutter and lose control. He wanted to know the taste and feel of Tony’s cock on his tongue. Maybe even the feel of it inside him, or even the other way around, if that was something Tony wanted. The possibilities seemed endless, and this was just the beginning.

However, having been on the edge longer than Tony, it was inevitable that Peter would come first. Sensing that his younger lover was close, Tony stopped moving their hands and just let Peter rut up against his cock within the circle of their joined fingers. Peter spilled his cries into Tony’s mouth at the same time he spilled his cum over the pair of them. It just felt so fucking good, and his hips kept moving until the sensations in his cock morphed into the sting of over-stimulation.

Moving Tony’s hand away, Peter let his softening cock fall away, and then tightened his own solo grip over Tony’s still hard cock, going back to jerking it, his own cum adding to the wet mess easing his way.

“Fuck! That’s it, baby. Just like that.” Peter watched with hooded eyes as Tony rambled and twitched within his grasp, head thrown back. “Gonna come, Petey. Gonna come. Feels so good. Yes! Yes!”

A feeling of immense satisfaction washed through Peter as Tony reached his peak and pulsed into his hand, and for the next few moments the pair of them lay next to each other, panting and coming down from their highs.

Peter opened eyes, feeling Tony’s gaze on him, and found him grinning. Then Tony was kissing him playfully and they both started to giggle. Peter twined his clean hand with Tony’s as they smiled and kissed, his heart feeling so light, he hoped he’d never lose this feeling.

“Please tell me you can stay tonight,” Tony asked, and despite his usual brashness, Peter could hear the note of insecurity in his voice. He let go of Tony’s hand so could brush a lock of dark brown hair from Tony’s forehead.

“I can stay. Don’t wanna be anywhere else. But I might have to leave early. I’ve still got some last things I need to do before I go home, and I have a feeling that you might prove a distraction.”

“Why would you think that,” Tony joked as he leant forward and took Peter’s lower lip between his teeth, pulling on it gently. “I can’t fault you for your dedication.” Tony eased away and got off the bed, walking across to his en-suite, confident in his nakedness, before looking coyly over his shoulder. “Coming for a shower?”

Peter had never moved so fast in his life.

When Peter blinked open his eyes the next morning, he was surprised to find it was well after 9am. Luckily, with it being Saturday he didn’t have any classes, but he hadn’t been lying to Tony about having some things he needed to sort out before the start of Winter Break. And the sooner he started them, the sooner they’d be finished and he could dedicate his remaining time to Tony before they had a two week period where they wouldn’t see each other.

He eased himself out from under the deadweight of Tony’s arm and climbed out of the bed. He tried to be as quiet as possible as he used the bathroom and when he came back out he was happy to see that Tony was still deeply asleep. After allowing himself a moment to observe Tony relaxed - and quiet - in sleep, Peter dressed as quickly as he could given he had to dig around Tony’s floor for his clothes. He had no idea when the party had actually wound down last night - he and Tony never had resurfaced, so he assumed Rhodey and Maria had taken over the hosting duties.

Peter dropped a gentle kiss to Tony’s temple, his heart flipping in his chest at the sleepy nose scrunch that crossed Tony’s face at the sensation, and then crept from the room and then out of the apartment which still showed all the evidence of the previous night’s party activities.

It was almost ten am by then, so as Peter crossed campus he could see a few other folk out and about, although most of them looked hung-over, or at least sleep deprived like him. However, after passing by the first few people, he realised that he was receiving a lot of stares. Worried that he was sporting a giant hickey, he stopped in front of one of the glass fronted buildings, intending to inspect his neck in the muted reflection, but when he saw himself he gasped, before starting to laugh out loud. A cowled skull stared back at him. It seemed that in his haste to get dressed he’d picked up Tony’s Black Sabbath shirt and not his own, plain black one.

If people had thought he and Tony were fucking before, there would be no doubt that anyone who knew the pair of them and saw this, would think anything else. The Peter of yesterday would have been appalled, but the Peter of today? Well he had taken Tony’s words of last night to heart - how much did the opinions of others really matter when it was no-one’s business but theirs?

With a smile on his face Peter squared his shoulders and walked back to his dorm, plotting about how he could steal another of Tony’s shirts.

Tag list: @km-ffluv, @wheezy-stucky, @kmc1989, @doasyoudesireandlive, @marvelstarker-mha98

#starker #tony stark x peter parker #college au #late writes

18 notes · View notes

graceful-starker · 11 months

Text

Peter's Boyfriend ch. 4

Chapter Four - Moving Forward

Summary: The gang is back from Thanksgiving Break, and they have stories.

Warnings: Drug use, alcohol use, panic attacks, nose bleeds, mentions of past violence. (If I missed anything please let me know! I think I covered it all).

Word count/rating: 9.3k, rated M.

Notes: Massive shoutout to Kimsberly on ao3 who left a great comment on this fic and gave me so much inspiration to continue.

I have two prequel fics coming out in the next few days, one to delve into the messiness that is the Nat/Bruce/Clint situation, and one that goes into the Sam/Bucky/Steve situation.

~~~

Peter bounces excitedly on the balls of his feet, checking his phone yet again to make sure Wade said he would be here. He’s been back on campus literally only ten minutes-only just long enough to drop his stuff off in his dorm room before he booked it here.

The door opens, and Beck is sneering at him. “Oh. You.”

Peter doesn’t let it get to him; he’s just excited to see his boyfriend again. “Beck,” he greets softly. “How was your break?”

“Don’t talk to me,” Beck says rudely, and Peter’s eye twitches. “Wilson!” Beck stands aside and lets Peter in, and Peter just skirts past him shyly. He doesn’t get why this dude dispises him, but whatever.

Wade thumps down the stairs loudly, and the smile on his face is so bright and beautiful that Peter almost swoons. “Peter!” He greets, before tackling Peter in a bear hug.

Peter giggles happily, wrapping his arms around Wade’s neck and letting himself be twirled. Wade always makes him feel so special; like he’s priceless. Like Wade is the one who can’t believe they’re together. “I missed you,” he giggles, smiling up at Wade once he’s put back down.

Wade connects their lips excitedly, and pulls Peter into his body. Beck makes a gagging noise behind them, so Wade pulls back and flips him off. “Go be lonely somewhere else, you’re pissing me off.”

Beck scoffs and rolls his eyes, but he thankful leaves towards the kitchen area.

Peter laughs and looks back to Wade, a giant smile fixed on his face. “Let’s go to your room,” he suggests, moving his hand down Wade’s arm to intertwine their fingers.

Wade grins and nods, starting to lead the way. “I didn’t know if you had eaten yet, so I ordered some pizza for us to munch on.”

Peter giggles, following just half a step behind Wade. “I had breakfast but it was an early one, the drive here is annoying as hell,” he jokes. They go into the room, and Wade shuts and locks it behind them.

“It’s on my desk if you’re hungry. I already had a slice-sorry,” he says cheekily, ducking his head.

Peter only smiles, grabbing himself a slice and sitting on Wade’s desk chair. “How was your break?”

“It was okay,” Wade says, sitting on his bed and stretching his arms over his head. “I stayed here, looked after the house and all that. Most people go home during breaks, so it was kinda lonely.” He gives Peter puppy dog eyes.

Peter grins after swallowing a bite. “Poor baby. Why didn’t you go home?”

“Don’t like my parents all that much,” he says, shrugging. “What about you, how was your break?”

“It was good,” Peter says, putting his slice down and dusting his hands off. “I uh…I came out to May,” he ducks his head, feeling a blush start to slowly form. “I told her about us. She says she likes you already,” he looks up at Wade from under his lashes, biting his lip.

Wade is smiling, his eyes warm. “What lies did you tell her about me to make her like me?”

Peter laughs, looking up fully and smiling back. “Just that you make me happy and you…” he blushes, but he laughs breathily and continues. “You make me feel likle you…”

Wade stands up, slotting himself between Peter’s legs and smiling down at him. “Like I love you?” he whispers.

Peter’s eyes widen, and his breath catches. “You love me?”

Wade nods, one hand sliding under Peter’s chin to gently convince him not to look away. “I love you, Peter Parker.”

Peter stares at him for a second, eyes wide and jaw slack with awe. Peter. Wade loves Peter. He actually loves Peter, actually wants this relationship. He makes Peter feel so unbelievably happy all the time, just by being himself-and he loves Peter. Peter surges up, making Wade stumble just a bit but niether of them care. Peter connects their lips in a fierce kiss, one hand tangling in the back of Wade’s short hair and the other cupping the back of his neck.

Wade makes a surprised noise, but his hands go to Peter’s hips and he gives as good as he gets back into the kiss. He pulls Peter with him back to the bed, letting himself fall back so he’s sitting on the edge and Peter is standing between his legs. “Peter,” he mumbles into the kiss, not pulling away enough to really get the name out.

Peter hums softly, smiling into the kiss. “I want you to fuck me,” he whispers, letting his hands cup Wade’s neck gently.

Wade pulls back, breath hitching and eyes dark. “Really? You’re sure that you’re ready? We don’t have to go all the way, you know I like what we-”

Peter laughs breathlessly, kissing Wade again softly. “I’ve never been more sure of anything in my entire life,” he says, only pulling back enough to actually see Wade’s eyes.

Wade swallows thickly, surging up to connect their lips one more time before starting to kiss down Peter’s neck. Peter tilts his head to the side, climbing into Wade’s lap and humming softly. Wade puts his hands on Peters hips, helping him balance, and then pulls away to smile at Peter. “You’ll let me know if you want me to stop, right?”

Peter nods, even though he’s almost entirely sure he isn’t going to want Wade to stop. “Promise,” he whispers, before connecting their lips together again.

Wade picks Pete rup by the back of his thighs and turns them around, resting Peter gently on the bed on his back, the pillows under his head. Peter blushes and smiles up at him, running his hands along Wade’s body. Wade starts to get undressed, and Peter half watches him and half attempts to get himself naked.

He’s done this part before. They’ve fooled around some; blowjobs and handjobs and even a very fun night where Wade fucked his thighs. But he’s never done this part with anyone at all. He wants to do it with Wade so bad, though.

Wade smiles and crawls over Peter, running his hands over Peter’s body before ducking down and connecting their lips. “Beautiful,” Wade whispers.

Peter blushes and runs his own hands along Wade’s body. “Wade,” he whispers, gasping when Wade’s hand wraps around him.

“You’re absolutely sure?” Wade asks again, kissing Peter’s nose.

Peter grins, moving his hands up Wade’s sides and nodding. “Yes. I want this-I want you so bad.” He spreads his legs apart, moving them so his knees bracket Wade’s hips. “Say it again,” he says, brushing his lips against Wade’s again.

“I love you,” Wade says easily, slotting their hips together and kissing Peter passionately.

Peter feels like he’s on cloud nine. His first time with Wade was about as close to perfect as he coud have hoped for, it was every bit as romantic and good as he imagined it would be.

He walks into his bio lecture and doesn’t even care about anything else; he doesn’t care that Tony is going to ignore him and sit on the other side of the room. He doesn’t even care what Tony said about him, or thinks about him. He doesn’t care that all his friends think it’s Peter’s fault Tony is being an asshole. Nothing matters except for the way his legs are still kinda wobbly and he’s just the perfect amount of sore to make him feel warm and floaty.

Peter is so lost in thought about how much he doesn’t care about Tony anymore that he almost doesn’t notice Tony coming to sit next to him until he’s taking the desk.

Peter straightens up, holding his pencil just a bit tighter. He looks at Tony from the corner of his eye, his leg starting to bounce anxiously.

“Did you have a good break, Pete?” Tony asks suddenly, and it’s said so casually. So normally. As if Tony never said anything wrong, as if he doesn’t even remember ever fighting with Peter.

Peter turns to look at him, blinking slowly. “What?”

Tony shifts, rubbing his thumb over his pencil nervously. “I asked how your break was. You went to see your aunt, right?”

Peter stares at him, long enough that Tony starts to squirm. He rubs a finger under his nose, before scratching at his beard. “You’re just going to pretend you didn’t say all of that to me?” he finally asks.

Tony squirms, clears his throat, and adjusts his notes on the desk. “I’m sorry I…” he turns to look at Peter, chewing on his lip. “I don’t think that way about you, Peter. I think you’re…” he looks away again, over his shoulder. “I miss you, Peter,” he whispers.

Peter frowns, looking back to his own desk and sighing. “You made me feel like shit, Tony. Like nothing. You-”

“Alright, everyone, quiet down. I’m sure you have lots to catch up on with each other from the break, but you can save it for after my lecture. Now, before the break, we left off on…”

Peter sighs softly and picks up his pencil, getting ready to take notes. He notices Tony shifting restlessly next to him, and towards the end of class he gets up and leaves. He doesn’t take his notes, so Peter assumes he’s just going to the bathroom or something. He comes back just before the end of class, seemingly more settled.

“Alright, that’s about time. Don’t forget your assignment is due before next class period, not 11:59 like it usually is. Have a good day guys!” the professor ends, starting to pack up her stuff.

Peter starts to pack his own stuff up, but as he’s standing Tony stands in front of his desk. “Peter?” he asks, looking down at his feet.

“What, Tony?” he asks, sighing heavily. He just wants to go and meet Wade in the student union, so they can grab some food and hang out.

“I really am sorry. I was a dick, a massive one, and you didn’t deserve any of it. You didn’t deserve the way I ignored you, you didn’t deserve any of the things I said to you, and you didn’t deserve the way I treated you right before break. I’m sorry, Peter. You’re my best friend, and I don’t want to keep-” he curses softly and brings a hand to his nose.

Peter’s eyebrows furrow in concern. “Shit, is your nose bleeding? Do you need a tissue?”

Tony sighs, tilting his head back and shaking his head. “I don’t want to keep being an asshole, and I don’t want to keep-keep…I want to be your friend again, Peter. I miss you, and I’m sorry I was so awful to you.”

Peter pulls a tissue out of his back pack and hands it to Tony, who sighs and takes it reluctantly. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard you apologize before,” he mumbles.

Tony laughs, folding the tissue and keeping it to his nose. He’s gotten blood all over his face and hand, and he looks so pitiful that it makes Peter’s heart hurt. “I don’t usually care enough about what people think to do it,” he answers honestly.

Peter gives him a sad smile. “You’ll have to work really hard to make it up to me, Tones,” he says, but uses his old nickname to show he’s mostly forgiven.

Tony smiles, eyes lighting up with hope. “I will, if you let me. I’ll be the best friend ever, I swear. I’ll-I’ll do whatever it takes to make you trust me again.”

Peter blushes a bit, but cocks his head to the side. “Come on, we need to get you cleaned up. You got blood all over yourself. And what did you do to your eye? You're a whole mess.”

Tony laughs, a bit awkward, and starts to walk towards the bathroom. “I wasn’t paying attention and walked into a doorway. But if anyone asks, say it was something cool. Say I won a fight or something.”

Peter giggles, turning on the sinks and grabbing some paper towels. “Sure, you got into a fight with some rando back home. You should see the other guy.”

Tony grins, wiping his face down and sniffing, inspecting his nose. “Yeah, the other guy.” He turns and smiles at Peter, throwing the towel away. “Fuck that guy.”

“Got what was comin’ to ‘him,” Peter agrees, adjusting the strap on his back pack. “You hungry? I’m meeting up with Wade for lunch, if you wanna come.”

“Nah, I’m not hungry,” Tony says, looking away. “I should probably get some homework done, I barely did anything over the break.”

Peter rolls his eyes fondly. “No one did anything over the break, it was break.”

Tony huffs and looks back up at Peter. “I don’t wanna intrude, it sounds like a date.”

“Nah,” Peter says, bumping shoulders with Tony and starting to lead the way. “It’s just meeting up, he’s taking me to dinner tomorrow night after his practice. I bet a couple of his brothers will be there, at least Matt. Come on!”

Tony hums, following at Peter’s side. “Alright then, if you’re absolutely sure he won’t get pissed that I’m there.”

“He’s chill,” Peter says, smiling at just the thought of Wade. “You would know that if you had talked to him by now.”

Tony winces, scratching the back of his neck. “I’m sorry, Pete,” he mumbles.

Peter knocks their shoulders again, giving Tony a smile. “Come on, he’s already waiting.” They start walking, Tony talking about their bio assignment due before next class. They’re halfway there when Peter stops walking. Tony almost keeps going, has to turn around and give Peter a confused look. “Can I tell you something? It’s-it’s about Wade. But I want to tell someone, and you’re my best friend, and-”

Tony smiles at him, nodding encouragingly. “You can tell me anything, Pete.”

Peter smiles, takes a deep breath. “Wade told me that he loves me, yesterday,” he says, and he can’t even stop the fluttery giggles that escape from him. Even just thinking about Wade saying it makes him feel so warm and fuzzy.

“That’s-” Tony’s eyes widen, and he forces a smile. Peter knows it’s forced, but if Tony really wants to be his friend again, he’s going to have to be willing to listen to this stuff. “That’s great, Pete. That’s exciting!”

“Yeah,” Peter says dreamily, starting to walk again and letting Tony fall into step beside him. “I can’t believe it. Someone loves me, Tony. My boyfriend loves me.”

“I can believe it,” Tony mumbles, and Peter chooses not to look at him. “You’re the best person I know. I’m surprised more people aren’t tripping over themselves to try for a chance with you.”

Peter blushes a bit, ducking his head. “I don’t know about all that, Tones.”

“Nah,” Tony says, and his voice is lighter now, more humorous. “Prettiest boy on campus, and you just so happen to also be the nicest and you’re super smart. And now you’re dating a football player, so you’re taken–line around the block, kid.”

Peter blushes and giggles, shooting Tony a giant smile. “Shut up,” he says, pushing Tony just enough to make him stumble a step.

“No, seriously. There’s nothing about you to not love.” Tony shoulder checks him gently, and his eyes are half sad.

“We slept together,” Peter blurts out, having to look away from Tony’s expression.

“You-you lost you-” Tony’s eyes are wide.

“Yeah,” Peter says, smiling at the memory of the way he felt. “It was like I always wanted it to be. He was-he was great.”

Tony is grinning again, and he shoves Peter playfully. “Look at you! They grow up so fast.”

Peter blushes and laughs, shoving him back. “Shut up,” he says, turning them to the sidewalk leading to where they’re meeting Wade.

Tony snickers and opens the door, letting Peter walk through first. “Hey, now nobody can make fun of you anymore. You aren’t even the most innocent person in the group now!”

Peter blinks and looks to Tony, leading them to the area Wade said he would meet him at. “Who are you thinking of?”

“Wanda and Vis,” Tony says, furrowing his brows. “Obviously.”

Peter smirks and shakes his head. “You’re delusional if you think they aren’t fucking.”

Tony gasps, putting a hand over his heart. “Nah, nah. No way. They’re babies.”

“Tones, they went to high school together. I’ll bet five bucks they lost their v-cards under the bleachers at some football game junior year.” Peter spots Wade and smiles widely, waving at him. “Yeah, see? He brought Matt. Come on, you’ll love them both.”

Tony is seemingly in a disturbed trance at Peter’s news about Wanda and Vis, but follows Peter anyway. “No way…” he whispers.

Peter rolls his eyes and gives Wade’s cheek a kiss before sitting across from him. “Hey Matt, Wade! This is Tony, he’s my friend.”

Wade side eyes Tony, likely wondering what’s changed since the last time Peter cried about his best friend ignoring him. But he smiles and nods to them both. “Hey, baby. Nice to meet you, Tony. You feeling alright, Peter?”

Peter blushes a bit, but he nods and smiles. “Yeah, I’m good. Great.”

Matt smirks, cocking his head to the side. Peter is always just a little freaked out by him; it’s like he knows things. Like he sees things everyone else can’t even though he’s blind. “Nice to meet you, Tony. Is Tony in your biology lecture, Peter?”

“Yeah,” Peter says, stealing a fry from Wade’s tray. “We just came from there.”

“Well, you guys should go get in line. I think we’re about to get flooded with students.” Matt turns his face towards the door.

Peter bolts up, grabbing Tony by the arm. “Come on.”

“What?” Tony asks, looking confused. “There’s no one here.”

“Matt is never wrong,” Wade supplies, munching on a fry and grinning. “Oh look, here they come,” hen nods to the window facing out, and it’s like a whole building of classes let out at once.

“Damn,” Tony says, laughing. “Come on!”

Peter laughs and leads him towards a line at a burger place, grinning. It feels almost normal, and he couldn’t be happier.

Peter sighs and leans against the wall outside of Bucky and Steve’s apartment. “Well I wouldn’t sound so sad if you just came with me,” he mumbles into the phone, knowing he’s pouting but he can’t seem to help it.

“We’re initiating this semester’s new freshman,” Wade says for what’s probably the tenth time, and Peter can practically feel the impatience rolling off of him through the phone. “I can’t miss this.”

“I know,” Peter whines, crossing his free arm over his torso. “Still.”

Wade chuckles softly, and Peter hears someone start the music in the background. “I’ll make it up to you,” he promises lightly. “I’ll blow your mind when you get back tonight.”

Peter feels himself shiver, and a grin grows on his face. “Promises,” Peter says, voice lilting with laughter.

“Yeah, I promise,” Wade says, a grin evident in his voice. “And I’ll keep you in bed all weekend too, you’ll have jelly for legs by Monday.”

Peter feels his face heat up, and he giggles softly. “Stop it,” he whispers, as if anyone could hear them.

“You won’t be saying that again all weekend,” Wade promises, and Peter can almost see him wiggling his eyebrows at Peter.

Peter laughs and pushes himself off the wall, sighing heavily. “I’ll hold you too that, babe. I’ll see you later tonight,” he says.

Wade hums and laughs softly. “See you later, sweetheart,” Wade says, before hanging up.

Peter sighs and pockets his phone, taking a few deep breaths before opening the door. “Hey guys!” he calls, and follows the sounds of greeting to the living room.

Bucky and Steve have their apartment set up differently than Thor or Tony, who have lots of couches and loveseats scattered around. They have exactly one couch in the middle of the room, which can seat four people if you squeeze. When they all meet at this apartment, they drag the chairs from their kitchen table in, as well as their desk chairs, and everyone has to make do with those or find a comfy spot on the floor.

Peter’s finds it cozier. It reminds him of May's apartment.

When he walks in, it seems like they decided to forgo the furniture, as the couch is pushed back slightly and there are no chairs. Instead, there’s a ton of blankets laid out on the floor and a few pillows scattered around. The coffee table stays in the middle of the room, and there are three cases of beers and two bowls of chips resting on it. “Well this is fun,” Peter says, smiling.

Steve looks up from his spot leaning against the couch, smiling at Peter reluctantly. They haven’t spoken since Steve told him about Tony, other than Steve texting him apologies. “Pizza is on its way too. Bucky thought this might be more fun, since we’re catching up and all.” He pulls a can of beer out and offers it to Peter.

Peter hums and looks around the room. Bucky is on Steve’s right, talking to Sam on his other side. Rhodey is sitting on the curve of the circle next to Sam, on his phone, and there’s an empty space on his other side. Natasha is sitting on Steve’s left, half in Clint’s lap, who is next to her. Thor is on the other curve, talking to Bruce who’s next to him. Wanda and Vis aren’t here yet, and neither is Tony. He takes the beer and opens it, thanking Steve.

Not really wanting to talk to Rhodey or Bruce right now, he sits in the middle of the circle, surrounded by empty spaces, and smiles at Sam and Bucky. “Do you guys have your anth midterms back yet?” he asks across the coffee table, just to say something.

Bucky groans dramatically, leaning into Sam who’s put an arm around Bucky’s shoulder. “Why would you even bring that up?” he pouts.

Peter laughs, grabbing a chip and nibbling on it. “I’ve gotten all of my midterm grades back except for my intro to philosophy class. But I’m convinced he’s just high all the time and probably forgot he’s a professor anyway.”

Sam snorts at that, shaking his head fondly. “You have that class with Vis, right?”

Peter nods while taking another bite. “Yup. I don’t wanna ask him about it though, because he’ll start telling me about his answers and stuff. I’m only taking it for the humanities credit!”

Bucky grins at him. “You mean you don’t want to debate for hours who the better philosopher was between Aristotle and Plato?”

Peter makes a face that gets the both of them laughing, and he scoots a bit closer to Rhodey so he’s more facing firmly in between the couple. “Half the time when Vis talks, I don’t know what the hell he’s talking about. Like I think he’s speaking English, but I’m just nodding along and hoping he doesn’t ask me what I think.”

“No one will make you feel more stupid than a philosopher,” Sam agrees lighthartedly. He takes a sip of his own beer.

The door opens and Wanda walks in, pulling Vis with her by the hand. “Hello everyone!” she greets, and then smiles as she takes in the circle. “Oh, lovely!”

Bucky waves at them. “Hey Wanda, Vis. How’s it going?”

Vis chooses to sit next to Bruce, so Wanda sits next to him and leans into his side. “I’m good, but all my professors decided to assign a million assignments first week back from break.”

Bruce laughs, turning to face the couple. “Dr. Stephens actually gave us a whole packet he wants us to get done this weekend. Six pages full of stupid physics equations, just shoot me now.”

Wanda grins and looks over Vis to talk to him. “We should set up a time to work on it together,” she suggests. “When do you work?”

“You mean, so you can ask me questions and copy my answers,” he teases her, shaking his head fondly. “I work all day on Saturday, but I get off at 4:00 on Sunday.”

“Can I come over to your apartment around 5:00, then?” she asks with a cheeky smirk, not denying his accusation. She grabs a couple beers, passing one to Vis before taking a sip of her own.

“Yeah, sounds good,” he grumbles, but laughs and leans back again. Peter can’t help but smile; his friends are all so…interesting.

The door opens once more and Peter turns his attention to the last newcomer, smiling softly as Tony walks in. “Hey everyone!” Tony calls, walking in and smiling. He shuts the door behind him. “Caught the delivery guy on the way up, so I bring weed and pizza.”

The group whoops as a whole, and Tony sets the pizza boxes down in the middle of the coffee table, on top of the beers. Then he sits in between Peter and Rhodey, rummaging through his pockets before pulling out a blunt and lighter. “You wanna go first, Pete?” Tony asks, offering it to him.

Peter doesn’t really smoke, and he thought Tony would know that by now. He’s eaten a special brownie once, but his trip was…not fun, to say the least. “Uh…”

“That’s your attempt to make up?” Rhodey hisses, soft enough it might have meant to not be overheard. “Give me that,” he says louder, shoving the blunt between his lips and shooting Tony a look. “Where’d you get the shiner anyway?” Peter thinks they must still be fighting themselves, if Tony hasn’t seen Rhodey all week.

Tony blinks and looks from Peter to Rhodey, making an annoyed noise. “Got in a fight over break,” he says simply, and seems to start a silent conversation with Rhodey.

“A fight?” Natasha asks, drawing attention away from them. “That doesn’t sound like a relaxing break. Who’d you get in a fight with, anyway?”

Thor snorts, grabbing a slice of pizza with one hand and keeping the other in his lap. “I’ll bet ten dollars I had the worst break.”

“Nah,” Bruce says, staring jealously at the still unlit blunt in Rhodey’s mouth. “I spent my whole break getting yelled at by my mother and working. You wanna know what I had for Thanksgiving dinner? A turkey sub from that place on 6th.”

Rhodey finally lights the blunt when Tony looks away, taking a long drag before passing it straight to Bucky who smirks at Sam before starting his own hit. “Don’t look at me, I had a great break. Food was great, my family is great.”

“My parents forgot I was coming home,” Vis pipes up, grabbing two slices of pizza and handing one to Wanda. “They apparently booked a trip to Hawaii. I spent the whole week alone, and I had stale chips for Thanksgiving dinner.”

Bruce shoves Vis’s shoulder lightly, sticking his tongue out at him. “Fine, you beat mine.”

Bucky passes the blunt to Steve, and Steve takes a much longer hit than he normally does. He wheezes just a bit on the exhale, but passes it on to Nat without a coughing fit. “I almost wish my parents forgot about me. I spent the whole week lying through my teeth about my entire life.”

Bucky frowns, turning a bit to look at Steve. “What’re you lying to Sarah for?”

Steve groans, shooting him a playful glare. “What am I not lying to her about? My major, my religion, my relationship status…”

“Dude,” Bucky says, eyes wide. “You haven’t even told her you’re not seeing Peggy anymore? That was two years ago!”

Steve ducks his head. “She makes Ma happy,” he mumbles.

Clint is already passing the blunt onto Thor by the time Peter breaks the silence after that. “I had a good time to May. I came out to her,” Peter pipes up.

Tony beams and pats Peter on the shoulder. “Hey, congratulations!” he says. Peter smiles back at him, feeling more relaxed. He grabs himself a piece of pizza while the group choruses their own congratulations.

“Where is pretty boy?” Nat asks, stealing the slice from Clint’s hand and taking a bite, much to his visible annoyance.

“His frat is doing initiations or something, I don’t even know.” Peter rolls his eyes, but his smile is still in place. “Seems a bit late in the semester in my opinion, but whatever.”

Bruce finally gets his hands on the blunt and takes his time with it before passing it on to Vis. Wanda steals it and takes a smaller hit before giving it to back Vis, blowing the smoke out and humming. “I had a great time, I got to see my brother. We don’t do thanksgiving, though, so no dinner. I think Vis is still winning. Sorry, Steve.”

Vis hands Peter the blunt and grins, kissing her hair softly. “I’m glad you enjoyed yourself,” he whispers into her hair.

Peter stares at the blunt for a second, contemplating. “What about you, Bucky? Got any war stories?”

“Nah. Well-” he grins, turning to Sam. “I did have my life threatened. Thrice.”

Sam scoffs, finishing his bite of pizza and rolling his eyes. “Sure, but they bought you ice cream right after, so I don’t think you qualify for worst break.”

Bucky chuckles softly and leans in to connect their lips chastly, bumping their shoulders. “What about you, nothing to complain about?”

Sam smirks, eyes alight with joy. “Nope,” he says, popping the P. “Don’t get an ego about it, though.”

Steve shifts away from Bucky just a bit, playing with a loose thread coming out of his sweater. He looks so sad and pathetic, Peter thinks.

Peter puts the blunt between his lips, gaining a gasp from a few people and making Steve look up to see what caused it. His eyes go wide, and Peter hopes he sees this as the peace offering it is. He takes a deep breath and immediately starts hacking up a lung, his face going bright red.

“Amateur,” Bruce teases, grinning at Peter. “You’re fine, breathe through it.”

Tony takes the blunt from Peter and passes it to Rhodey, looking at him with concern and patting Peter’s back. “Jesus, Pete, right in the deep end, huh? You ever heard of baby steps?”

Peter flips him off, but leans into his touch so he knows he isn’t really mad. “My lungs are on fire,” Peter croaks.

Natasha laughs, shaking her head fondly. “Virgin lungs,” she tsks.

Peter takes a deep breath, coughing once more and clearing his throat. It still feels like it’s in his lungs, and he wants to get it out so bad. “Jesus. I don’t think I ever need to do that again.”

The rest of them start laughing, even Tony who still looks a little worried.

“What about you two?” Rhodey asks, passing the blunt back to Bucky. “You haven’t told your horror stories yet, are you really gonna let Vis win?”

“Well Tony hasn’t gone yet, he just mentioned the fight,” Clint says. “And he’s our only hope, because me and Nat had a great time. I love Yelana, she’s such a little-”

“Angel,” Nat finishes, stealing the slice from his hand again. “But we did have a good time, so you better have had a terrible time, Tones.”

“Thanks,” Tony says drily, rolling his eyes. “I mean other than existing under the suffocation of daddy dearest, not really. I’d rather they had forgotten about me and fly to Italy or some shit, does that mean I win?”

Vis hums. “I dunno, I would have rather spent the holidays with my family, even if they don’t particularly like me.”

“Tony wins,” Rhodey says, shaking his head. “I’ve met his parents. He wins.”

Peter frowns, looking at Tony with sad eyes. Tony squirms and stands up suddenly, clearing his throat. “Where’s your bathroom, Barnes?”

“Down the hall,” Bucky says, pointing over his shoulder.

Tony nods his thanks and heads that way, and somehow the blunt is back in Peter’s hand. “How’s it my turn again already?”

“You spacing out there, Petey?” Wanda teases, grinning at him.

Peter sticks his tongue out at her. “I’ve been high before. Once. It sucked.”

“Is it sucking this time?” Steve asks, smiling softly.

Peter smiles back, and is happy that their little fight can just be behind them now. “Not yet, anyway. What do I do with this?”

Rhodey takes it from him. “Tony hasn’t had a hit yet, but normally you’d just put it out and leave it somewhere.”

“Well,” Tony says, sitting back down and sniffing. He grabs the blunt, holding it between his fingers. “Thor, you made the bet. Do you owe me ten dollars?”

Thor smirks, one arm hanging over Bruce’s shoulder. He shows off his other hand, covered in a bandage. “I’ll give you each one guess as to what happened.”

“You burned yourself taking out the turkey!” Nat pipes up, grinning from ear to ear.

“Nope,” Thor smirks. “We don’t celebrate Thanksgiving.”

“You burned yourself cooking something else?” Clint asks.

“Nope!”

“You sprained your wrist jacking off,” Tony guesses, putting out the blunt. When did he take a hit? Peter doesn’t remember.

“Stark,” Thor says, scandalized.

“You tripped down the stairs,” Bruce guesses.

“Nuh-uh.”

“You scraped it climbing a tree,” Rhodey says unenthusiastically.

“Not even close.”

“You slammed it in a car door,” Sam offers.

“You slammed it in a regular door,” Bucky counters without waiting his turn.

“No and no.”

“You were the person Tony got that black eye from?” Steve offers, grinning.

“Rude,” Tony mumbles, rubbing his nose and grabbing a beer.

“No,” Thor laughs. “Closer, though.”

“You got in a fight with your brother,” Vis guesses.

“Closer,” Thor says, leaning foreword.

“Loki stabbed you because you annoyed him,” Wanda guesses, shrugging her shoulders.

“Closest!” Thor says, pointing at her. “I got stabbed by my secret sister I never knew about, because she killed a family while drunk driving and it broke up my father and her mother’s marriage.”

The room goes dead silent, and then Peter starts to giggle inappropriately. His giggles bring out everyone else’s slow laughter, until even Thor is holding his belly as he laughs about it. “Holy shit, Thor,” Peter says thorugh his giggles. “You win.”

“A secret sister?” Wanda asks, shaking her head. “Damn.”

“Wait, how old is your dad?” Nat asks, leaning her head on Clint’s shoulder and squinting at Thor. “If your dad started a whole new family after she was old enough to drive drunk?”

“Ancient,” Thor says, grinning. “He’s a lot older than my mom, like 12 years or something, and she was 35 when I was born. Loki was a miracle baby, she was 43.”

“Can we play messiest family?” Clint asks, eyes sharp with mischief. “I think this could be fun.”

“Thor’s already won, though,” Bucky challenges. “What’s messier than a secret sister from your father’s secret first marriage?”

“Your parents were just teenagers, that’s a lot less messy. Messy, but less messy,” Natasha says, grinning at him. Bruce is staring at them, a sad look in his eyes.

“My parents,” Peter starts, and then laughs as he realizes what he was about to say. Changes his mind, and instead says, “Are dead.”

Wanda starts to giggle hysterically, making Peter laugh as well. “Peter,” Wanda says, still giggling. “Most people don’t get that joke.”

“What joke?!” Bruce asks incredulously. But he’s looking at Peter now, so it worked out. “He just said a sad fact.”

Peter and Wanda both burst out laughing again, and the rest of the group slowly starts joining in, if only to diffuse the awkwardness.

“You guys are fucking weird,” Steve says, shaking his head fondly.

“Shit,” Tony whispers, making Peter turn to look at him. He quickly grabs a napkin and puts it to his nose.

“Nose bleed?” Rhodey asks, and he has an expression on his face that Peter can’t really read.

“It’s fine,” Tony mumbles, tilting his head back.

“I had a nose bleed just the other day,” Thor says, looking at his beer in thought. “My mother said it was something to do with dry weather, but I thought that was one of those things moms make up.”

Clint snorts, pulling Nat more firmly into his lap. “Like an old wise tale?”

Sam barks a laugh. “Uh uh. What did you say?”

Clint frowns, narrowing his eyes. “What? An old wise tale.”

Sam snickers, and Bucky shakes his head fondly. “Wives’, Clint. An old wives’ tale.”

Clint’s jaw drops. “Shut up!” He says. “No, that doesn’t make any sense! It’s wise, as in wisdom.”

“No,” Steve says, a grin on his face. “No, an old wives’ tale means gossip, urban legend, superstitious. That type of thing.”

“‘S sexist,” Wanda mumbles.

“Nuh uh, I don’t believe you,” Clint says, taking his phone out and jostling Nat. He looks it up, and gasps loudly. “No fucking way.”

Everyone dissolves into a fit of giggles, and Peter feels mostly floaty, but a small part of him is too busy thinking about how this is the second nose bleed Tony has had in a week, that Peter knows of. He looks to Rhodey, who’s also looking suspiciously at Tony. When Rhodey looks up and sees Peter staring, he looks away and starts drinking more beer.

Tony stands up, wiping his nose and sniffing once to test if it’s really over. “I’m gonna throw this away and wash my hands, anyone need anything while I’m up?”

Giggly ‘no’s are all he gets in response, so he leaves. Peter watches him go, forgetting why he was concerned but still feeling concerned.

Peter sighs happily, putting his drink on the table before climbing onto his boyfriend. “I missed you,” he mumbles softly.

Wade laughs, wrapping his arms around Peter’s waist. “You saw me like just a few hours ago,” he says playfully.

“Yeah, but I still missed you,” he pouts, kissing at Wade’s neck.

“Did you get high?” Wade asks, amusement in his voice.

“Maybe,” Peter says, kissing up Wade’s neck and nibbling at his earlobe. “I had a little hit.”

Wade chuckles softly, moving one hand to rub up and down Peter’s back. “You said you don’t really do that,” Wade half asks.

“Not really,” Peter agrees easily. “Listen, I seem to remember you promising to turn my legs into jelly.” He licks at the shell of Wade’s ear, earning a shiver.

“Why did you decide to smoke?” Wade asks instead of responding, nuzzling Peter’s hair.

Peter pouts, kissing back down Wade’s neck. “We were just having fun. Everyone had dramatic ass stories from break and I just wanted to chill.”

“Yeah?” Wade asks, moving his free hand to rest on Peter’s hip. “What happened?”

Peter huffs in annoyance, starting to rock his hips into Wade’s. “Well, Thor got stabbed.”

Wade gasps, stilling Peter’s hips. “What?!”

“Yeah, he discovered he has a secret sister who killed a whole family or something and she stabbed his hand for some reason. He’s fine.” Peter whimpers softly, still trying to move his hips. “Wade, please!”

Wade laughs softly, kissing Peter’s hair. “That’s crazy, Pete. What else happened?”

Peter grunts, resting his head against Wade’s shoulder. “Well Bruce was all sad because Natasha and Clint are back together, and they went to her family’s house over break.”

“Why would that make Bruce sad?” Wade prompts.

Peter pulls back, scrunching his nose to showcase his displeasure. Wade only grins fondly, pushing some hair behind Peter’s ear. “Because he’s in love with Nat. They always fuck when she and Clint are off again, but it’s a secret so really I shouldn’t tell you.”

Wade’s eyes widen. “Damn.”

“Yeah, but that’s nothing,” Peter says, a smile starting to grow on his face. He doesn’t usually gossip, but it’s fun, apparently. “Steve’s in love with Bucky, but Bucky started to date Sam. And Sam took Bucky home over the break to meet his family!”

Wade blinks rapidly, shifting under Peter. “Steve is the one who slept with your best friend, isn’t he?”

“Yeah, but we made up. Me and Steve, and me and Tony. Tony apologized during class so we’re good now. But I think he might be getting sick or something, because he got a nose bleed.”

“A nose bleed?” Wade asks, grabbing Peter’s water and handing it to him. He doesn’t comment on the incoherency of that last story.

Peter hums his thanks and takes a sip, and then nods. “Yeah, d’ya think that’s something to worry about? I don’t think I’ve ever had a nose bleed.”

“I get them sometimes, if the weather is bad,” he says, shrugging. “Your friends are…a bunch, aren’t they?”

Peter nods proudly, starting to giggle. He drinks more water and then hands it back to Wade. “It’s never boring, that’s for sure.”

Wade hums, moving his hands up Peter’s sides. “Are you feeling okay?”

“Yeah!” Peter says, smiling happily. He leans in and hovers his lips just above Wade’s. “You should fuck me.”

Wade laughs breathily, connecting their lips softly before pulling back just a bit. “You’re high,” he mumbles. He puts Peter’s water back down.

“Yeah, and?” Peter asks, connecting their lips again. Wade allows it for a little bit, before pulling back again. Peter whines in annoyance. “Waaaade. At least lemme suck your dick.”

He earns a gasp out of his boyfriend, but only that. “I’ll fuck you extra tomorrow,” Wade bargains, nosing under Peter’s jaw and kissing there softly.

Peter gasps and tilts his head back, cupping the back of Wade’s neck to keep him there. “What does that even mean?” he asks breathlessly, biting his lip.

Wade chuckles and kisses his neck more, ignoring the question. He turns the lamp off and moves the both of them on their sides, kissing Peter’s neck the whole time.

“Feels good,” Peter gasps, holding onto Wade.

“Yeah?” Wade whispers, moving his lips up to Peter’s jaw.

“Yeah,” Peter says, his eyes drooping as he starts to feel sleepier. “Don’t stop,” he mumbles.

“Won’t,” Wade says, his lips moving along his jaw. It feels good, and Peter is so happy and floaty, and he doesn’t even notice the way he slowly drifts off to sleep.

Tony scratches at his face, eyes twitching almost violently. He did way too much, he used twice as mich as he usually does. But he woke up with a headache and a crippling urge to use, and it’s Saturday so he has no where to be and no plans to keep, so he thought it was a good idea at the time.

Tony feels like his heart is going to beat out of his chest. He’s fucking stupid. He shouldn’t have done this. There’s so many things he shouldn’t have done. He shouldn’t have slept with Steve. He shouldn’t have hurt Peter with his words. He shouldn’t have ignored Peter. He shouldn’t have let Peter date Wade, he should have told Peter how he felt. And now he’s gone and fallen in love with Wade, they love each other, and Tony is stupid.

He’s fucked up, he’s fucked everything up. He’s done irreparable damage to all of his relationships, all of his friends hate him, he’s going to die alone.

He’s going to die, right now. His heart is going to give out, and he’s going to die in his apartment, all alone. How long will it take for anyone to even notice he’s dead? Is there anyone left who would care? Has he driven everyone who cares about him away?

He’s dying. He’s actively dying. He’s dying, and-

“Tony!” Rhodey yells, and when and how did he even get here? Rhodey looks angry-no. No, he looks scared. “Tony, please! Please, just breathe. You can’t hold your breath, man, you have to breathe.”

Tony gasps in a desperate breath, and immediately starts hyperventilating. He feels tears streaming down his face, and he can’t tell if it’s snot or blood that’s pouring out of his nose but he can’t breathe either way. “R-R…R-”

“Breathe,” Rhodey says, grabbing Tony’s hand and holding it to his chest. “Breathe, Tony. Like me. In…Out. Come on, Tones, you can do it. It’s a panic attack, you’ve had one before. It’s just a panic attack. Breathe with me. In…”

Tony is shaking. He’s shaking, and he doesn’t think that he can actually breathe like Rhodey wants him to. But he’s here, at least. He looks like he would care if Tony died right now. So he isn’t completely alone, at least.

“You’re doing great, Tones. You’re breathing, see? You’re breathing. Keep doing it. In…out…With me, just like that. Good job. Keep breathing,” Rhodey says, using his free hand to cup the back of Tony’s neck.

Tony sobs brokenly, his hands shakily coming up to hold onto Rhodey’s shirt. “Rhodey,” he croaks. He’s still shaking, still can’t breathe right.

“I’m here,” Rhodey says, squeezing the back of Tony’s neck in a way that sends calm through him. “I’m right here. Keep breathing.”

Tony takes in the deepest breath yet, letting it out shakily, and then does it again. He does it five more times before Rhodey finally gives him a shaky smile, nodding once. “Rhodey…”

“We’re talking about it,” Rhodey says, an edge to his voice. “But we’re getting you cleaned up first, and you’re going to drink some water, and we’re waiting until you’re breathing evens out.”

Tony nods slowly, unable to keep eye contact. He lets Rhodey clean his face up with some tissues first and then washes his face with water, careful not to let it splash all over his front. Then Rhodey hands him a water bottle and Tony takes slow sips from it until it’s half gone.

“Better?” Rhodey asks, once they’re sitting on one of Tony’s couches.

Tony nods, running his thumb along the lid of the bottle. “I’m sorry, Rhodey,” he whispers softly, looking up with tears in his eyes. He doesn’t want to let them fall anymore, though. “I’m sorry. Not just for-for this. For today.”

Rhodey lets out a shaky breath, and puts a hand on Tony’s knee. “You’re a fucking asshole, Tony,” he starts, shaking his head. “But you’re my asshole. You’ve been my best friend forever, and short of trying to kill me personally, there’s nothing you could do to change that, okay? I’ll always be here. I’ll always forgive you.”

Tony feels one tear push over the edge, and the mix of guilt and pure, unadulterated love courses through him. No one has ever loved him like this, other than Rhodey. Not his parents; that’s a fucking joke. He would say Ana and Jarvis, but they were paid to be there, and they wouldn’t have been if they weren’t getting paid. Rhodey is the only one who loves him this way, unconditionally and without incentive. “Rhodey-” he starts, chokes.

Rhodey smiles and shakes his head, squeezing Tony’s knee. “I know. And the way you feel right now, the words you can’t say out loud? That’s why. That’s why I stay. I know, Tony.”

Tony puts his own hand over Rhodey’s, holding it shakily. He wants to be able to say it anyway, but he doesn’t have words to express the way he feels. Maybe one day he will. For now, he’s just going to trust that Rhodey is telling the truth and he knows what Tony feels. “I don’t deserve you,” he says instead.

Rhodey sighs dramatically, tilting his chin up-but his smile is still there. “I know,” he says. At Tony’s laugh, he turns back to Tony and nods. “Okay. Now we talk about it.”

“I…how long were you there, before I noticed you?” Tony asks.

“A few minutes. Enough to hear something about Peter, fucking everything up, and how you’re going to die,” Rhodey supplies.

Tony winces and then sighs, looking to his lap. “I slept with Steve,” he starts, and can’t fight his smile when Rhodey chokes. “I know, bad decision. Probably gonna do it again.”

“Do-do not-Tony!” Rhodey chokes, half incredulous and half highly amused. “What the fuck is wrong with you? Steve Rogers?! Perhaps the only living person left on this entire planet more emotionally constipated than you?”

Tony barks a laugh, looking up at Rhodey with a shaky smile. His high is already starting to wear off, and he hates it. “I dunno, honeybear, I think Bruce might be up there. And Clint.”

“Nuh uh, they’re stupid,” Rhodey says, shaking his head. “They know how they feel, and they can talk about it. They just keep staying in the situation anyway. You can’t even talk about your feelings, or even label them most of the time.”

“Shut up,” Tony grumbles, wiping his cheek from the wetness. “Whatever. It was a mistake, I shouldn’t have done it. He came to my apartment all upset because he saw Barnes kissing Wil-Sam, and I was upset because Peter is always kissing Wade, and…I dunno.”

Rhodey sighs, shaking his head and crossing his arms over his chest. “Jesus Christ, Tones.”

Tony shrugs, sniffling and rubbing under his nose. “And then he went and blabbed about it to Peter, of all fucking people-” Rhodey whips his head around to look at Tony, eyes wide. “Yeah, I know. What the fuck was he thinking? Whatever, doesn’t matter. He told Peter, and so Peter came to my apartment like a week later or something, right before we all left for break. And he started saying all this stuff about how I hate him, and he just wants me to tell him what he did wrong so he could apologize, and I…I…”

Rhodey narrows his eyes. “What did you say?”

Tony pulls at his fingers nervously. “Okay, I admit to being the most emotionally constipated person on earth.”

“What did you do, Tones?” Rhodey asks, sounding tired and wary.

Tony scratches the back of his neck. “Well, what I meant to say was that I’m no good for him, that my life is hell and he shouldn’t touch it with a ten foot pole. That I want to love him and be in a relationship with him, that I’m not only interested in fucking him.”

“But you didn’t say that,” Rhodey guesses.

“No. I…” Tony groans and puts his head in his hands. “It’s so much worse now that I’ve had time to think about it!”

“Tony…”

“I said I’m not allowed to date him because I’m expected to marry a rich heiress and have a bunch of pretty babies to carry on my family name,” Tony says quickly, letting out a shuddery breath at the end.

“Tony,” Rhodey says, scandalized.

“He said, ‘What a relief to find out that you don’t hate me, you just think I’m a worthless nobody!’” Tony leans back on the couch, rubbing a hand down his face. “And I didn’t know how to tell him that he’s the…that he…fuck,” Tony shakes his head, still not able to find the right words. “It’s the wrong way ‘round. I’m the worthless one, he’s the one that’s too good. Way too fucking good for me.”

“Tony,” Rhodey starts, changes his mind. He rubs a hand down his own face, before shaking his head. “I’m not going to sugar coat it, Tones. You fucked that one up. You’re lucky he forgave you.”

“I know,” Tony mumbles, rubbing under his nose before pulling his knees to his chest.

They let the silence sit for a while, but then Rhodey sighs. “Are we going to talk about your newest problem?”

Tony winces, resting his chin on his knees. “Dad hit me,” he says softly, and hears Rhodey shift to face him. “Told me I that if I was going to disappoint him by doing drugs, I could at least choose one that makes me productive so I’ll be a little less worthless for an hour at a time.”

Rhodey’s hand clenches into a fist on his thigh, and his jaw works. “If I could get away with it-”

“He’s right, though,” Tony says, digging his fingers into his legs to help him not cry. “It makes me a lot more productive. More sociable. I’ve managed to not massively piss anyone off for a whole week, that’s a new record.” His voice fails him at the end, turning the joke more sad than he wanted it to be. “All my assignments are done and turned in, I’m sure my professors suspect something,” that jokes lands better, pulling a pity laughs from Rhodey. “I feel better, when I’m on it. Usually. Happier.”

“It’s not really happiness,” Rhodey argues softly. He puts a hand on Tony’s shoulder, squeezing gently. “And it’s dangerous.”

“I know,” Tony mumbles sadly. “But I don’t want to stop yet. I need…I need to know I won’t drown, when I stop. I need to know I’ll be okay after. I can’t…I don’t want to feel that low again, when I was on break. Right after he hit me, and I thought Peter hated me and you hated me and everyone else was going to hate me soon.” He looks to Rhodey, his heart pounding for a new reason. “I don’t wanna feel that way again. I felt like…like there wasn’t a reason to keep going.”

Rhodey’s hand tightens on Tony’s shoulder, and his breathing starts to quicken. “Tony-”

“I’m not-” Tony shakes his head, taking a deep breath. “I’m not going to- do that. I just…I don’t want to feel like it, even if I won’t do anything about it.”

“You need to talk to someone,” Rhodey whispers softly.

Tony smiles sadly, pushing his shoulder more into Rhodey’s hand. “That’s what you’re for, sourpatch. Free therapy.”

“Tony,” Rhodey warns, a lecture on the tip of his tongue.

“I’m Howard Stark’s kid, I don’t get to go to therapy. I buck up and bury my feelings. It’s the Stark way,” he says sadly, shrugging. “I’ll figure it out, eventually. I’ll be fine.”

Rhodey rubs at his face, shaking his head. Then he sighs, squeezing Tony’s shoulder once more. “Okay. Okay, Tones. But you have to call me if you’re feeling like this again, okay? I don’t care what time it is, and I don’t care how sure you are that you aren’t going to do anything. You call me.”

Tony feels that surge of warmth again, and nods his agreement. “Promise.”

Rhodey lets him go, leaning back in the chair and staring into the distance. After what feels like the most comfortable silence they’ve shared in a long time, and scoffs “Steve Rogers?”

“Shut up,” Tony laughs, crossing his arms over his chest. “He’s stupid and annoying, but he’s also hot as fuck.”

Rhodey shoots him an unimpressed look. “You fuck hot people all the time, you couldn’t find a different one?”

Tony sighs and leans back, letting his head fall to the back of the couch. “I’m gonna do it again, too. I just know it.”

Rhodey scoffs again, scratching at his cheek. “You are hands down, by far, the most self destructive person I’ve ever met.”

Tony smiles sadly, but then it disappears and he turns to Rhodey with genuine anxiety. Enough to make Rhodey tense. “But you’ll always be here to pick up the pieces,” he whispers, somehow able to keep it from sounding like a question.

Rhodey sighs, but he nods. “Always, Tones.”

#starker #my writing #fanfic #my college au #spideypool #tw: blood #tw: violence mention #tw: drug use #tw: panic attack #tw: alcohol #tw: unhealthy relationship #tw: unhealthy coping mechanisms

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madeforstarker · 2 months

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Hi, made! What're your favorite tropes to write for Starker? 🥰🥰🥰

Hello! Sorry if it took me so long to reply~ 🎀

My top three favorite tropes would definitely be:

♡ Daddy Kink (with a side of DD/LB)

♡ Dom/Sub Dynamics or Undertones

♡ Omegaverse or A/B/O Dynamics

Honorable mentions would definitely be: Oblivious Idiots in Love, Mutual Pining, Soulmates, Pregnancy, Resurrection, College or Highschool AU.

Thank you for this ask! 🩷

#made.asks #more starker college fics!#or highschool fics!

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anotherbeastarsblog · 2 years

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I just saw scott pilgrim fanart and anytime anything makes me remember Scott Pilgrim my brain goes into overdrive about how bad the movie was for the story, actually.

Great movie it deserved to be successful but hooooooooly shit they just removed like, every actual part of Scott figuring out his problems and confronting them and trying to be a better person. Scott Pilgrim is one of those top-tier "shitty dudes idolize him for entirely wrong reasons" but unlike Tyler Durden or Tony Montana or whatever it's not that the deconstruction fundamentally fails to target the object of deconstruction, it's literally just what the movie shows.

#Scott Pilgrim #He had an alcoholic phase in college and routinely rewrites his memories to make the women he fucked over the aggressors #You can kinda forgive it cause the 6th book was still being written but they cut Gideon's ex girlfriends that made the parallel like #really fucking obvious #I cannot even begin to imagine what O'Malley thought the message he was sending when he originally wanted Scott to end up back with Knives #But honestly *not* ending up with Ramona would've been a starker conclusion to his character arc #Not that it's bad as is and if Ramona leaves you run the risk of putting her in the position of a tool for a man's character arc anyway but #you know what I'm saying right? The whole 'power of love' 'power of understanding' thing?#and the movie replaces the understanding sword with a self-respect sword centering Scott EVEN MORE #Not making Ramona the crux of his development because that's not her job like #She deserves happiness to and after deconstructing the manic pixie dream girl thing she can actually have that #I dunno I'm torn on it #my bullshit #seriously though wtf was the message of the initial Knives ending supposed to be

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justan-0-t-h-3-r · 2 years

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Kinktober - Starker + Dirty Pictures

Peter's second year at college brought around a few changes. He wasn't as shy as he was in his first year since he had found his place, he had made the few new friends and lost a few he had stayed close to in his first year. It also brought a new professor...

He was pretty quiet, gave off the typical good kid, studious vibe. But he was like any other teenager really, pretty fucking horny. So when he met his new professor, much like a lot of his female classmates, he was instantly infatuated, and his fantasies came home with him.

Somehow, he was the one who caught the older man's attention, which was a surprise to say the least knowing how damn hard the girls tried to get his attention, maybe he just wasn't interested in the girls.

Tony had studied Peter's routine on the days he had him in his lectures, so, one day he managed to catch Peter at the library and under the guise of handing him his work back, he gave the younger man his number since he had seen the way he drooled over him.

Peter was shocked. He couldn't hide his redness even before he saw the man's number, but he hoped to fucking God he could hide his physical interest...

That night Peter wasted no time in texting the number and the conversation got heavy, quickly, which only brought out that horny teenager more and gave him his next bright idea...Taking suggestive pictures and sending them to his professor thought the college day. He couldn't help that puff of his chest when he could see from his seat in the hall Tony checking his phone then shifting his position.

But Tony would also play his game agaisnt his better judgement. Sending pictures of his semi back to him. (He'd drink the good judgement away of an evening before looking back through the pictures his student had sent him before getting himself off by rutting against a pillow as if it was the real thing.)

Unfortunately Peter couldn't keep his cool as well as the older man being very inexperienced compared to him, so multiple times he had to excuse himself to the toilets to take care of himself, picturing all the things Tony could do to him, hoping that one day soon they'd come true.

And of course he'd always record himself, trying to keep his moans suppressed, sometimes even having to stop just before his release if someone walked in, to send to Tony.

#nsft #starker moodboard #tony stark/peter parker #starker #tony stark #tony x peter #peter parker #peter is 18+#dont come at me #starker rp #college au #starker au #kinktober 2022

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nxbxhs12 · 8 days

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El pequeño omega peter parker está emocionado por su cumpleaños y quiere hacerlo al estilo coquette que está en tendencia, su novio siempre está ahí para cumplir sus deseos.

¿Como reaccionara su novio al verlo vestido con ropa de mujer? Parece que él Sr Stark no sólo tendrá una linda fiesta de cumpleaños.

────────────────────── ✦

⬇️

#peter parker #collage #starker #au #tom holland #robert downey jr #fiestadecumpleaños #college

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spiderlinging · 2 months

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I've made this rant before, but I'll say it over and over again...

There is no fucking universe in which Tony Stark wouldn't have left Peter money for college.

Starker. Iron Dad. I don't care who you are. It just doesn't make sense.

#starker #tony stark x peter parker #ironspider

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starker-sorbet · 4 months

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🌾Cattails🌾 - symbolizes lust

College Professor Tony having an affair with his prize student and dom Peter behind closed doors

#starker #cattails meaning #professor tony #sub tony #college student peter #dom peter #teacher/student au #red aesthetic #moodboard #my moodboard #nff

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winterspiderpurrs · 1 year

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It was well known that Tony and Bucky were together. Tony even made Bucky a specialized motorcycle jacket. On the collar of it had hand stitched 'STARK' on it. So anyone who got close to Bucky would know who he belonged to.

So it came as a surprise when quiet nerdy Peter Parker started walking around with a letterman jacket with the names 'BARNES' and 'STARK' on the arms.

#writing prompt #someone needs to expand on this and write it #winterironspider #ironwinter #winteriron #winterspider #starker #peter parker x bucky barnes #peter x tony #starker prompt #tony stark x peter parker #bucky x tony #bucky x peter x tony #winterspiderpurrs #could be highschool or college au #could be anything

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thelightsandtheroses · 7 months

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there's art to life's distraction | marcus pike x female reader

Summary: A meet cute on Valentine’s Day? That only happens in the movies, doesn’t it? Word count: 1564 Warnings: mentions of wine and canapes. Otherwise this is just slightly anxious meet cute fluff! Pairing: Marcus Pike x female reader Notes: Hi @burntheedges, here is your gift for the Space Sisters valentine's gift exchange.I hope you don’t mind me trying Marcus P for the first time. I saw him on your prompt list and meet cutes and couldn’t resist. I so hope you love this meet cute which had to be set on Valentine's for the extra vibes 💕 The title is from Hozier's Someone New because I saw some hozier lyrics on your blog bio and wanted to make a little link to that.

You meet him at an art opening. It was a personal goal to attend the gallery, expanding your cultural knowledge; self-development or something like that. It might have been because more that you hadn’t left the house except for work or groceries in weeks and you were easily seduced by warm white wine and free canapés.

The canapés were actually pretty good.

It feels less cliched than sitting alone in your apartment on Valentine’s once again, or better than some terribly organised ‘singles’ night’. Why shouldn’t you go out and spend some time appreciating art just because it’s Valentine’s Day? You weren’t meant to be on your own for this, but your friend now is working late, your other friends are all with their partners and so here you are.

You’re okay with this though. You can be cultured and sip your … well, you’re not quite sure it’s legally classifiable as wine.

It’s a mistake, this evening is a mistake.

This isn’t a nice simple introductory art gallery. This is beyond Avant Garde or a modern exhibition. This is highly experimental and bold. Apparently, it has a reputation for this, one you didn’t know about before seeing the flyer. It’s a baptism of fire and you suddenly feel so unprepared.

You’re surrounded by couples, or by art students analysing each work carefully, and your loneliness feels starker than ever. You’re not sure if you’re analysing the works correctly, but it’s all about feeling anyway, right?

You’re here though and this is meant to about broadening your horizons, appreciating art. Maybe you should have eased into this though - gone to the National Gallery of Art or Portrait Gallery, rather than straight into this.

You can do this. You’ve got this.

You move to a quieter corner of the gallery and carefully try to analyse what a particularly obtuse modern installation could mean.

Five minutes and you can go home. You’ll even treat yourself to a coffee, you think.

“Interesting,” you mumble to yourself.

“How so?” a low voice asks behind you.

You turn around. The man is good looking, there’s no denying that. He’s all deep, dark eyes and stubble, wearing a smart coat over what looks like his work suit.

There’s a warmth that radiates around him, something that makes you want to answer him, rather than ignore him and move on.

“Uh, well -” Shit, what if he’s the artist? “It’s very blue.”

“Blue?”

“Yuh huh.” You have a fucking postgraduate degree and all you can think is it’s very blue? You curse yourself inwardly. Maybe, just maybe you should have taken that art theory class in college instead of introduction to media.

Or perhaps you shouldn’t be so distracted by the good-looking man beside you.

“I see.” There’s a devilish twinkle in his eye, one that draws you in immediately.

“What’s your take then?” you ask, arching an eyebrow.

“It’s really, really blue,” he replies, deadpan and without meaning to, you feel your mouth twitch, the hint of a laugh or a smile teeters.

He looks cute when he smiles.

“Well, I was onto something there clearly.”

“It’s uh, got some feeling though. Sad but hopeful. That’s my take.”

You look at the painting again. “It’s raw. Very blue, but raw.”

“Exactly.”

“Actually, I think it’s kind of pretentious.”

“Hmm, that too,” he says with a smile.

“Oh no, you’re not the artist, are you?” you ask, horror dawning on you. Why did you have to add that? Of course it’s pretentious, it’s an art gallery in DC.

“No, no, not at all I just - I like art. All art really. I think there’s something special in capturing a moment, or a feeling, or - it’s real.”

“I can understand that. I’m not really I’m much of an art expert but that’s how I feel about music.”

“Exactly.”

You don’t want to let this fleeting moment go. You want to hold on to it just a little longer, a little tight.

It’s Valentines and you’re surrounded by couples and here’s this very attractive, well put together man talking art with you and he’s not being sleazy or weird, but he seems genuinely interested in talking to you.

“So, what do you think of this one then?” you ask, moving to the next painting.

“Ooof, where do we start?” the stranger jokes.

“You’re not the artist on any of these, are you?”

“Nope, and I don’t know any of the artists, so don’t worry about my feelings. You can tell me just how blue something is. Or pretentious.”

“I think the second thing is almost taken for granted at a gallery like this.”

“How did you hear about this place then?”

“I pass it on my way home and I uh, work - I like art.”

You haven’t missed his correction and immediately ask, “Collector or historian?”

“Neither.” There’s a twinkle in his eye that implies he’s certain you won’t guess his profession.

“Appraiser?”

“Nope.”

“Critic?” you ask sceptically.

He laughs at that one. “No.”

“Aha? I know, art fraudster.”

“So close, but so far.”

“Oof, mystery man then. So mystery art lover, do you have a name?”

Who are you right now? You never act this bold, never initiate flirting like this, there’s something about him though. He makes you feel at ease, calm and reassured. It’s novel, especially considering he’s a stranger.

“Marcus,” he says softly.

“Hi,” you say before you share your name in response almost automatically, noticing the way it sounds on his lips as he repeats it back.

His smooth voice fills your stomach with butterflies, a tingling hint of desire surfaces on hearing him say your name. You think about what it would sound like outside of the art gallery, outside of this context, with him closer so you can smell that heady cologne more or have him whisper.

“So what bought you here?” he asks.

“I saw the flyer earlier in the week and it seemed like fun, or at least a better way to spend an evening.” You take a sip of the wine and wince slightly.

“That was until you tried the wine, huh?”

“The canapés really implied it would be better wine.”

“That’s how they suck you in.”

You both laugh and are immediately glared at by another patron. Marcus’ smile is magnetic though and you find yourself not feeling embarrassed.

“Would you - would you like to get a cup of coffee? If you’re finished here, of course,” he asks. “There’s a decent coffee shop around the corner and we could uh, finish our conversation? Only if you want.”

“Sure.” You get to hold on to this moment for just a little longer.

The air outside is cool but not overtly . The night has reached that moment where it’s dark but not menacing while the streetlights gleam around you. You walk side by side, your fingers very occasionally brushing as you feel the featherlight hint of his fingers against your own as you turn a corner. You brush against his coat, catch a lingering hint of a woody cologne that immediately entices you closer.

“I want to get more into art,” you admit. “It’s not something I’ve necessarily prioritised before. I mean, we’re in DC and there are amazing galleries and museums.”

“But you dived right into one of the most experimental galleries in DC?” he asks with a smile.

“I believe it’s important to immerse yourself fully,” you lie smoothly.

He coughs, suppressing a chortle. “I can respect that. There are some amazing galleries in this city to explore though. It’s one of the reasons that I like that I moved here.”

“Where were you before?”

“New York.” You don’t need an art or a psychology degree to notice the way his face shifts; how his lips tilt slightly downward, eyes avoid you. There’s a story there.

“I’ve never been,” you admit and then change the subject, sensing his unease. “What are the other reasons?”

“Coffee and we’re here,” he says lightly, indicating a small hole-in-the-wall cafe just ahead of you both. There are no fussy or brash valentine’s decorations and while you notice a couple of couples inside, it doesn’t feel as high pressure as another cafe or restaurant would.

Five minutes later, you’re both perched at a small table with steaming, hot cups in front of you.

“At least we can talk here without any glares,” you say.

“Ooh, yeah, you don’t want to mess with artists or art students. Trust me.”

The conversation flows naturally; music you like, books you’ve read and it feels like you’ve known Marcus so much longer.

There’s no pressure, no impending sense of alarm or panic. It feels right. Sitting here with Marcus feels like where you need to be now and like you’ve known him for years.

It’s shaping up for more than friendship. There’s a fission, a flare of desire and sweet anticipation.

It’s you who suggests a real date, to your own surprise. You love the way he responds, the way his eyes light up and brighten, the crinkle of his brow, the smile that feels so sincere.

“You beat me to it,” he says softly, “Yeah, I’d really like that.”

Maybe it wasn’t such a bad idea to go to the art opening alone on Valentine’s Day, you think. Maybe, just maybe, it was kismet.

#marcus pike x reader #marcus pike x female reader #SpaceSistersSecretValentine

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starkerhowlter · 7 months

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Performative Dom

Ship: Starker Rating: E Contains: Language, Blowjobs, collaring, Lingerie, Dom/sub, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Dubious Consent (But corrected by Tony to give Peter the right to consent), Objectification (Not by MCs), BDSM Posing, Collar pulling, Coming Untouched, Daddy Kink, Peter Parker is 18, leashing Initial prompt: @starkerfestivals Valentine's Day exchange prompt 1: Peter is a sub but they won't let him go to college without a Dom sponsor. Tony thinks he's too brilliant for those dumb rules to ruin his life so he takes up the role only to fall in love with how beautiful Peter looks on his knees. Words: 5426 Summary: Peter needs a dom. And the perfect candidate is right in front of him. But what if they fit better together than either of them ever expected?

AKA: Five Times Tony realized this was a mistake, and one time he embraced it.

Gift for: @the-mad-starker

Read Below or on AO3

HAPPY VALENTINE'S DAY MADS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Thank you so much for this prompt and for giving me the opportunity to write it! I hope you love it and I hope this does your prompt justice! Also I hope you love the bonus moodboard I custom built for you! A number of the images were made just for you ♥♥

Also also, hi Starker fandom! It's been a minute since I've been back! I've been on a "fandom tour of the world" recently and joined 3 fandoms since July. You haven't gotten rid of me yet!

This was edited by one of my fave humans @starkerkitty! Thank you so much, Jacy!! <3

note: any underlined words are links

The entire thing had been a spur-of-the-moment decision.

Peter bursts into the lab seething, and Tony's met with a fire he's never seen in the younger boy's eyes.

Tony's brow furrows as he kicks his feet off the desk, "Peter?"

"I thought we were past this as a society," Peter shouts, dropping the envelope on the desk in front of him. He continues pacing the length of the garage, stepping onto the walls to pace across the ceiling.

"What? Acceptance letters?" Tony smirks, raises an eyebrow and picks up the envelope. He pulls the paper out, reading. "’Dear Peter Parker, you have been accepted to MIT.’" Tony murmurs, "I mean that was expected..." He continues, "blah blah blah... Orientation is on Monday.. blah blah blah... ‘Unfortunately, we can't allow you to enroll in classes until you present a Dom to sponsor your journey with MIT to allow for you to be enrolled and to keep you accounta’-- Oh, you have to be fucking kidding me," he scoffs, tossing the paper on his desk. "They're really holding you from a degree because of *that*?! Just because of the little pink heart on your license?! Maybe I can call my associates, surely they know I'm the one who recommended you. They can't possibly be holding you for anything at all." He scoffs, "I'm going up there. If they want to play this game, we'll play this game."

"Or..." Peter starts, hopping down from on top of one of the server towers.

"Or?" Tony asks, arms crossing over his chest as he looks up at the boy.

"Never mind."

"Peter..."

He sighs, "I have a plan. But you... you have to trust me, Mr. Stark."

-----

"Peter, we can't do this. I mean, I'm all about fucking over tradition, but you do realize they do checks. And not just one. They do them throughout the entirety of your time in the program." Tony stares at the younger man from behind his sunglasses, frowning, "We can't possibly make them believe that I'm your Dom."

Peter's shoulders fall, "You don't want to..."

Tony scoffs, reaching over to clasp a hand over Peter's shoulder, "Now when did I say that? I'm just worried because you're just a kid. I don't want to be preying on you because you're vulnerable."

"You're not. You're just helping me to get into a prestigious university. Speaking of, we need to go get some supplies."

"Supplies?"

Peter shrugs and nods, "Y'know... A collar, whatever outfit you think fits your standards, Mr. Stark. If you feel it's appropriate, you can even pick it."

At the mention of an outfit, Tony's mind fills with images of Peter wrapped in ensembles of his dom's choosing. He considers a suit but settles for something more casual. And Peter in his mind looks stunning.

This is a mistake.

"Oh. We can uh... go tomorrow, deal?"

Peter nods, "Sounds good, thank you, Mr. Stark! Goodnight!" He skips out of the penthouse, leaving Tony alone with less-than-appropriate thoughts about his young mentee.

_____

There are a few times in Tony Stark's life when he knew he is well and truly fucked before the consequences happen.

This is one of those times.

Before him, Peter’s standing on a fitting platform presented for Tony.

"Now, Mr. Stark, what collar are you thinking for your sub? Have they earned a lock? Have they leveled up to a buckle, or is he still in training where they haven't earned more than a snap? As you know, your sub must earn a place beside you."

He allows himself a few deep breaths, glancing at Peter to confirm he's okay with this.

Instead of a nervous disposition, Peter looks almost comfortable. His eyes are glazed, lips parted as he waits for Tony -- his dom-- to decide what he's worth.

"I think he's earned a lock." Peter's chest shudders at the words and Tony smirks, "And let's put my name on it. He should bear my name since he belongs to me."

The worker nods, hanging on to Tony's every word. "Done! Give me just a few minutes to get the collar together for you. We can cut it today and size it so you can walk out with the piece before you leave the mall today!"

"Sounds good. I think my sub and I are going to do a few other errands but we will be back. If you wouldn't mind giving me a call?"

"Sure thing, Mr. Stark. I will start on your piece immediately." The worker takes the black metal card from him, disappearing into the back room to swipe it and get his receipt, but Tony isn't interested in the receipt.

He turns towards Peter, hands resting gently on his arms, "You alright, kid?

Peter nods, mutely, and takes Tony's hand. "Do we need to... show our status while we're in public?"

"It's probably a good idea. What are you comfortable wearing?"

"Whatever you'd like me to wear... daddy?" Peter tacks on the title as an afterthought and Tony fights the urge to react visibly.

"I think that they will believe us more if we put you in a lingerie set and then dress you in a nice outfit on top of it. We can pass it off like I picked the outfit to match your collar, and if you are comfortable, some harnesses latch onto the type of collar I picked for you. But honestly, it's whatever you--"

"Mister Stark? I apologize for the interruption. Here is your card back and your receipt."

"Oh! Thank you!" He takes the card, putting it back in his wallet before taking Peter's hand and leading him out of the shop.

Holding Peter's hand feels far more natural than it should as they walk through the mall. No one gives them a second look, and Tony wonders if they pass as a couple.

"Follow me," Tony states, leading him through the mall toward the lingerie store.

"Mr. Stark..." Peter tries, voice cracking with nervousness, "Are you sure?"

"I'm sure. If you aren't, we don't have to do this. But I will tell you from experience, they are going to want proof."

"Okay..."

----

This was a mistake.

Peter's standing in the middle of the store, surrounded by a rainbow of lace and tulle, and staring at Tony with wide brown eyes.

"What is the-- um--" His voice cracks and Tony's heart melts.

This was a mistake.

"How about we start you in a simple lace playsuit? Do you have a favorite color?"

"I... You should pick."

"Alright, deal." Tony approaches one of the racks, sifting through the outfits to pick out a couple of styles in various colors. "What do you think about red?"

"L-like Iron Man red?"

"I mean... If I'm going to be 'owning' you, it'd make sense to have you wearing my colors," he replies, "Just seems appropriate."

Peter nods and follows after him, hands shoved in his hoodie pockets.

"Your clothes are in there," he states, pointing into the third fitting stall, pulling the purple curtain back. "I'll wait for you out here. If you feel comfortable, I'd love to see how you look in the outfits... baby"

Peter's eyes widen at the title, but he steps inside the booth before he can splutter out a reply and begins stripping off his hoodie and jeans, dropping them onto the gaudy cheetah print chair in the corner of the stall.

Tony hadn't held back.

The pieces before him held no semblance of modesty, yet would show off every curve and muscle of his body. One’s black and frilly, another’s pastel silk, and behind them is a hot rod red harness and lace playsuit.

"Holy--" He whispers, running his hand over the black, lace, off-shoulder negligee, pulling it gently off the hanger. The piece weighed next to nothing, but it felt like it'd shatter into a million pieces if he wasn't careful. He lifts it, pulling it over his head and down over his body.

It wasn't a piece of clothing so much as one long-sleeved lace sock, in Peter's opinion. The bottom of the negligee touched just beneath his ass, and the sleeves pulled down over his hands to leave just his fingers bare.

The lace covered nothing. His nipples and boxers were visible through the lace and at that second, he felt very, very exposed.

"M-Mr. Stark?" He ekes out, peeking his head out of the curtain, keeping his body covered.

"Yeah, Peter?"

"How's this look?" Peter pulls back the curtain, revealing his lithe muscular form wrapped in the delicate lace dress.

Oh... Tony fucked up.

The kid - the one he had told himself he wouldn't drool over - was standing before him in a skin-tight lace bodycon dress, and Tony wanted nothing more at that moment than to devour him.

"You look-- The lace and-- and your figure... um..." He clears his throat, "You look good. Can I see the next one?"

"Oh! Of course!" Peter replies, rushing back into the room.

Back in the room, Peter removes the lacy garment and picks up the silky one. It doesn't even make it off the hanger before it's dropped to the floor.

"No on the silk."

"No?" Tony replies from outside the door, "Just don't like the color or...?"

"Texture," Peter replies bluntly, picking it back up to hang it on the hook. "I can't do it."

Tony huffs what sounds like a laugh, "That's alright, sweetheart."

The title slips out, and the younger man blushes as he picks up the next piece.

On the hanger is a lacy bright red harness playsuit. Bands cross along the back and front, over where his midriff would be, and he shivers slightly at the intricacy of the piece. He steps into it, slowly pulling it up over his thighs, hips, and stomach, spreading the lace over his form.

He turns towards the mirror and the sight of himself catches him off guard. Peter's breathing hitches at the sight of Tony's colors, his red, stretched over Peter’s pale skin. His hands ghost down the front, and the feeling causes him to shiver.

"You okay in there, kid?" Tony calls, shattering the moment, "Didn't get tangled did you?"

"Uh... no!" He calls out, turning away from the mirror and towards the curtain. "Did you want to see this one? It's a bit... much isn't it?"

Tony gives an affirmative noise, and Peter pulls open the curtain, revealing himself to him.

"Holy shit..." Tony whispers.

"That bad?"

"Look at you..." He steps forwards, and reaches for his hips, but stops just a few inches shy. "I-- Sorry." Tony inhales and steps back. "You can uh.. get dressed. I'll meet you out front."

He is so fucked.

---

A few days later, Tony's sitting on the couch next to Peter, reading paperwork on his tablet. "Okay, kid, we need a game plan for this Thursday. I mean... how are we planning on convincing them?" He swirls the bourbon in his glass, sipping it slowly. "Are you just thinking you'll sit in my lap or was there something else you thought might work better? What's the move?"

"I figured I'd sit on your lap, um... maybe we can have me wear a button-down shirt so they can see the lingerie and collar you picked? Just... basically... um... what do people usually do?"

'Fuck.' Tony's brain unhelpfully supplies.

"They tend to use less... orthodox methods. Some bring their subs in on leashes or feed them from their hand, make them sit down on the floor at their feet... It really depends. All I know is that when the day comes, I need to know what program you are going into and why so that I can vouch for you. Because as much as I hate it... in that room, you have no voice."

Peter shivers at the implication and nods. "Noted. Would you like me to uh... put on the outfit again so we can practice? I don't think it'd do us well for either of us to be stumbling and shy the day of."

'Oh, fuck, please put the outfit back on...' Tony thinks.

"Good idea. I expect I will wear a usual suit, so there really isn't any need for me to change, right? I mean the entire thing is just a meeting. Nothing major. What's the worst that could happen? I mean, it's just an interview."

-----

This is a mistake.

Whatever they'd planned for, it wasn't this.

"M-Mr. Stark..." Peter whispers, eyes wide as he's led into the room, feeling small in the cavernous space. Their shoes thud against the floor as they walk, and he takes note of many famous art pieces along the walls as they're led to the office.

At the last second, they'd decided on a leash, and now Peter realizes that may have been a mistake. The skinny chain is connected to the D-ring of his collar, and the other end is held by a wrist strap in the same metallic red leather as his collar. The weight of the piece creates a heady feeling at Peter's core and he finds himself thinking of taxes, his grandma... anything to keep the bulge in the front of his pants minimal.

Tony pulls on the chain, leading Peter through the halls, following a woman with a tight black bun who's talking far too fast for Peter to keep up with.

"This school is one of the most prestigious in the country, you're not going to regret sending your sub here. We do offer a few check-in options if you want him to live on campus, but at the end of the day, it's about whatever works for you, Mr. Stark."

He replies with a simple, "As you know, I was a student here when I was younger. I think I want Peter here to have the same experience. Back then, we knew I was going to be marked a dom, just as my father was, and I didn't need any sort of sponsor. I'm not quite sure how this process works." Tony's entire being exudes confidence, and it puts Peter's racing heartbeat at ease. "Do you need to verify my 'status' or is that just understood?"

"I will need to verify your designation when we get to the office, but at this time it's not a major issue." She gives him a tight smile, not sparing Peter a second glance. "Oh, I should remind you, there will be a confirmation test before the meeting begins, will you be needing supplies for it or have you brought your own?"

Tony scoffs dismissively, "What the hell is a 'Confirmation test'? You don't believe that I own my sub? That's ridiculous!"

"I do apologize, Mr. Stark. We've had a recent spike in subs acting as doms to get into college or having others of different designations pretend to be their dom to try and bypass the system. Therefore we've had to implement a check. There will be an agreement signed by all parties present if you're worried about it being leaked."

Peter blanches at the concept, heart racing when he hears that others have tried and failed to do exactly as they are.

"Ah, that makes sense. We won't be needing supplies, my sub here is trained well enough to take it no matter how I give it." He shrugs, "Well then, where should we wait?"

"Just through here," she replies, ignoring the snark in Tony's voice.

He sends her a fake smile, pulling Peter closer to him to wrap his arm around Peter’s shoulders. Peter's racing pulse presses against his wrist. With a whisper, he soothes Peter, "It's okay. I've got you, baby," putting on the facade of a doting dom, much to the woman leading them's approval.

"My dom is the same way when I get nervous," she muses mindlessly, opening a large white door to lead them into the office. "Have a seat over here." She leads him over to one of the plush velvet chairs sitting before a large wood desk, "Your sub can wait by the door."

Tony frowns, "Absolutely not, he stays with me. No questions asked." Unconsciously, his hand tightens around Peter's leash, keeping him close as though someone would steal him away. "He'll sit at my feet."

"If that's what you choose. Mr. Donahue and Mr. Arroyo will be in soon. Would you like any coffee while you wait?"

"I think we're alright. Thank you." She nods, leaving them alone.

"Hey, kid, are you okay?" Tony asks, helping Peter to sit comfortably on his knees by Tony's chair.

Peter nods, shifting slightly to ensure Tony's shirt parts over his chest to reveal the lacy bodice of the lingerie.

He runs his fingers through Peter's hair, "You look good. I don't know what this 'confirmation test' is, but we'll get through it together."

"I trust you. We can do whatever we need to to get through this. I want to go to MIT so bad, Mr. Stark..."

"I know, Peter, and I will do whatever I have to to make it happen. Even if it means lying to the panel at my alma mater." He smirks, ruffling the younger man's hair, "We will get through this... together."

Before long, the large door at the side of the room opens and two men walk inside.

"Good morning, I presume you're Mr. Donahue and Mr. Arroyo?"

"Yes, and is this..." He lifts his clipboard, "Peter Parker?"

At the mention of his name, Peter looks up from his place on the floor.

"Yes. We're here to get Peter set up in the program for biochemistry and chemical engineering."

The two suited men before them snicker, "That's quite the program... Are you sure it's for him?"

Tony frowns, chewing his cheek to keep from mouthing off and blowing it for the younger, "He's actually quite brilliant. But let's be honest, any sub worthy of me would have to be more than just a pretty face."

His words pinken Peter's cheeks, and he blushes, leaning against Tony's leg.

"If you're sure, we can progress to the next part of the meeting. Before that though, I have this sheet of terms and conditions for you to read."

The man on the left hands Tony a sheet of legalese.

It's a basic NDA, nothing he really needs to worry about because he's sure he could break it with a check and some lawyers if needed. Rolling his eyes at the places saying that he and his sub consent to the test, he moves to sign it, and then hands the pen to Peter, but notices at the last second there's only one line.

"Oh, we don't need his signature, your signature of consent is enough."

"Yeah, well I want his signature of consent next to mine." Tony glares, pointedly dragging the pen along the paper to create a line for Peter to sign. "Baby," he summons, snapping his fingers.

"Yes, Mr. Stark?" Peter replies, just as practiced, "How can I service you?"

"I need your signature on this NDA."

Peter obediently rises to his feet, leaning over the table to sign the paper.

"You don't even need to read it?" The man on the right asks.

"Of course not. If my Sir read it, I trust him to know what's best for me."

Clearly, that was the right answer, as Tony's hand wrapped around his hips, pulling Peter back to sit on his lap.

They hadn't discussed this.

Tony smiles softly at him, left hand running up his chest, and under the shirt.

Neither of the men before them seem bothered by the display. If anything, they're pleased.

"Before we begin, I need to see your IDs. Just to confirm your designations."

"Of course." Tony nods, pulling his wallet out to produce both of their IDs from the pocket they'd tucked them into the day prior.

The men look over their ID cards, confirming the black heart on Tony's and the pink one on Peter's. They hold them up to the light, confirming the words etched beside the icons aren't forged.

When they seem satisfied, they stand at the desk, handing Tony back the cards.

"Now, for the next part of this process, we're going into this room next door. There will be some equipment for you to use, should you need it. Essentially, we just need to see how you and Mr. Parker interact to confirm that you are actually in an agreement."

"Sounds like a plan. Let's go," Tony replies calmly, following behind them and leading Peter into the room as well.

---

The giant room is simple, with dark red walls and black wood flooring. There’s only a few pieces of equipment Tony's never seen outside of an obscure sex club he frequented in '05 in the room.

"When you're ready Mr. Stark." They take a seat on the black couch in the corner of the room.

Tony nods, "Alright. Peter, I want you to strip out of my shirt and head to the display platform over there." He unclips the leash from his wrist and the chain falls against Peter's front.

"Yes, Daddy," Peter replies obediently, unbuttoning the shirt the rest of the way and allowing it to fall off his shoulders. He folds the garment, setting it on the floor next to him. Silently, he steps onto the circular acrylic platform and waits at attention with his head down and arms behind his back.

"Inspection," Tony states, crossing his arms, and standing just off to the side of the stand.

Without a second thought, Peter raises his arms behind his head, spreading his legs to wait for his next command.

Tony walks behind him, circling the platform as the world shrinks to just them.

"Service."

He nods, dropping his hands in front of his crotch, patiently eyeing Tony for the next word."

"Good. Nadu."

'Fuck.' Peter thinks, dropping to his knees. He kneels back, spreading his thighs just enough to place his hands palms-up on them, eyes trained at the floor just before him.

It feels like the room has suddenly grown 800 degrees hotter as Tony watches the younger man drop to his knees from just his command. He fights the urge to respond. To go over and take control and ownership of Peter, but instead, he coughs and delivers the next command, "Collar."

Peter lifts his head, presenting his throat as though Tony were to place or pull on the leather wrapped around his throat.

"Humble."

He drops forward, chain hitting the ground with a dull thud as his nose touches the floor, arms sliding before him, and his ass pushed out into the air for Tony or any passerby to inspect him. It wracks shivers down Peter's form as he lays there.

Tony's eyes widen.

This was a mistake.

Had Peter's ass always looked that good in those jeans or was this position just stretching the light fabric over his form? He clears his throat, glancing over at the suited men writing notes in the corner.

"Ready position," he commands, snapping his fingers to grab Peter's attention.

Peter pushes up, pulling his hands back towards himself, sitting on his knees with his lips slightly parted. The chain of the leash runs down his body as Peter raises his gaze to just above where Tony's face would be if he stood over him.

The thought fills Tony's head with more visuals than he's prepared for, and he feels himself going lightheaded.

This was a fucking mistake.

"Last one, Peter..." he states, "Captured."

Gracelessly, Peter rolls onto his back, spreading his arms and legs to present his body to Tony, inviting him to take control. His breath leaves his lungs. If it weren't for the jeans obstructing his view, Peter's cock, hole, and balls would be on display for him.

Tony chokes out a simple, "R-Released." Clearing his throat, he adds, "Good job, Peter." He offers him the button-up from next to the platform, helping him put it on, but stops him before he can button it.

"Thank you, Daddy, I'm glad that I could please you."

He presses a gentle kiss to Peter's temple and reattaches the chain leash to his wrist.

One of the men interrupts the exchange, catching Tony's attention, "Well, Mr. Stark, I can say that we are thoroughly impressed with you and your training of your sub. If you wouldn't mind having a seat with us over here, we can sort out his schedule for this semester."

"Gladly." He leads Peter over, dropping into the white chair across from them, and pulling Peter into his lap.

----

Two hours later, they arrive outside with one sheet of classes for Peter to begin in a week.

"We did it!!" Peter squeals, wrapping his arms around Tony in a tight, celebratory hug.

"We did, kid! You are now officially a student of MIT," Tony replies, "Congratulations! Wanna head home?"

"Please..." Peter replies. 'Just a little longer.'

----

The air in the penthouse is thick as Tony drops his keys on the counter in the kitchen.

"Now what? I expect you want to change into something more comfortable?"

'Please do, before I eat you alive,' Tony thinks.

"Um... I thought..." Peter walks around the counter, standing before Tony, "I thought I might stay in this a little longer. If that... I mean... If that's okay?"

"Fuck, kid... Of course it is," he murmurs, hand reaching out and stopping just before Peter's cheek. Peter's breath ghosts across his wrist, crushing the last of Tony's reserve. He places his hand on Peter's jaw, running it down toward his throat.

They'd removed the leash once they'd gotten in the car, and Tony mourned its loss, but instead reached for the ring at the center of Peter's collar.

"Is this okay?"

"Please..." Peter whispers, eyes falling to Tony's lips before flicking back to meet his eye.

"Fuck, kid..." Tony grabs the D-ring with his right index finger, pulling him forward into their first kiss. It grows heated almost instantly, as Peter presses his body back against the counter, caged in by Tony's left hand.

Peter whimpers against his lips, licking into Tony's mouth.

"I've wanted this so badly... For so long," he murmurs, sharing breaths with the older man, "Please, Mr. Stark, let me have it?"

"Of course, you can have whatever you want, Peter. Anything." He kisses the younger again, reveling in the soft whines slipping past Peter's lips. "What do you want?"

"Can you... Tell me what to do again?" His voice cracks, nervously and Tony smirks at the sound.

"Of course I can. You can say stop at any time. I won't hold it against you and it won't affect me sponsoring you for college, okay?"

Peter nods, waiting for his first command as soon as Tony lets go of his collar.

"I want you to go into the living room, strip out of your outside clothes, and pick one of your kneeling positions. Either Nadu, Collaring, or your Ready position. I will be there in a moment. Also, you will call me ‘Daddy.’"

"Yes, Daddy." Peter rushes out of the kitchen, and into the den, stripping and kneeling in his ready position, just like he was trained. He watches the kitchen door, patiently waiting for Tony to come through.

Tony pushes open the door to the den, and there in the center of the floor is Peter kneeling in the Iron Man red lingerie Tony'd picked a week prior, waiting patiently for the older man to claim him for his own. The red elastic bands wrap diagonally around Peter's center, and the lace at his crotch and chest stretches over the skin perfectly.

He looks edible.

"Fuck, look at you..." Tony gasps. "I swear it took everything in me earlier not to step up on that platform and kiss you earlier."

As if imagining it, Peter shivers. Tony smirks, and runs his fingers through Peter's hair. "I have a feeling you would have liked it if I had, baby."

The title makes Peter's eyes widen and he blushes.

"Noted." Tony chuckles, "How far do you want to take this?"

"All the way. I just... I want your cock so bad, Daddy..."

"Fuck..." he groans, "Yeah, we can... we can make that happen. Fri, lock down this floor, make sure no one gets in."

"On it, sir," she replies.

"You have my full attention, Daddy," Peter whispers, shyly, "Do what you think I am worthy of."

"Honey, you've had my full attention since I put my name on your neck. And as for what you're worthy of? I think you've earned being spoiled on my cock until you're begging. How does that sound?"

Peter shivers and nods, "Please, Daddy... Make me yours."

He chuckles and unbuttons his slacks, watching as Peter tracks every single motion of his hands. "Desperate?"

The younger man blushes, and lowers his gaze to Tony's shoes, not replying.

"I'm going to take that as a yes."

"Can we just... Can I--?" He raises his hands to Tony's belt.

"Fuck, of course you can, Peter." Tony nods, pulling his cock through the front of his boxers. "It's all yours."

Peter pushes forward, taking the tip into his mouth with practiced ease.

"Have you done this bef-- Oh fuck there..." Tony groans, hand falling into Peter's hair.

"Never kiss and tell, Daddy." He winks, licking along the side of Tony's length, sucking kisses into the skin.

"Fuck, Peter..." His hips jump when the younger man takes the crown into his mouth, sucking slowly down until he's buried the hilt of Tony's cock in his mouth. "How... did you... get to be so good at this?" His chest rises and falls as Peter watches through a hooded gaze. "You're so good for me, Peter..."

He pulls off, lips swollen and pink, "Say it?"

Tony runs his fingers through his hair, catching on the curls, "So good for Daddy."

Peter whimpers, taking Tony’s dick back into his mouth, hollowing his cheeks and suckling sloppily. Slowly, Tony's hips push back against his sucking, creating a slow rhythm.

"Can I fuck your mouth, baby?"

He nods as much as he can, dropping his jaw to allow for space.

Experimenting with a thrust, Tony pushes his dick further into Peter's mouth, reveling in the tight heat surrounding him. He pulls back, repeating the motion a few times, gasping when Peter's gurgles vibrate around his length.

Releasing his hold, he allows Peter to pull off and catch his breath, watching as the younger man wipes drool from his lips, and tears from his eyes.

"Again?"

"When you're ready, sweetheart. You're doing so good for Daddy, baby. I'm going to go a little faster."

As promised, he speeds his rhythm up, thrusting into Peter's mouth, each breath carrying a desperate moan. "Fuck, Peter..." He tangles his hands in Peter's hair, pulling Peter's head in an opposing pattern to his hips, "Just a little more, sweetheart... And then I'll make you feel good too."

"Don't... Don't have to." Peter croaks, pushing his hips down against the ground. "'m good."

"Are you getting off on this, Peter? Enjoying me using your mouth? You enjoy being used by Daddy?" Tony purrs, tangling his hands in Peter's hair, pulling him forward again, "Good. Because Daddy loves using your pretty mouth."

Peter whimpers, sucking Tony back into his mouth, licking the beads of precum off the tip and down the side. He shivers, fucking his own mouth.

"Fuck, sweetheart... Can't... Can't fucking do that, I'm too close."

Tony swears he sees Peter's eyes sparkle when he says that, but he couldn't be sure. Not with his head falling back in a louder-than-necessary moan.

Peter shivers at the sound, and the vibrations of his own moans are what brings Tony over the edge.

He shouts Peter's name, bucking sloppily into his mouth, groaning loudly. "Fuck, so good for me baby... So fucking good."

Peter swallows around him, licking the remnants away, pulling off with a soft pop.

Tony tucks himself back into his boxers and sinks next to Peter, "God... Why haven't we done this sooner?"

Peter shrugs dazedly, head falling against Tony's shoulder. He wraps his arms around Peter, kissing him softly. The man tastes himself, and he smiles against Peter's lips.

"As for you..." he reaches down, slipping his hand into Peter's lingerie, and is met with a wet spot, and Peter's hypersensitive cock. "You-- You came untouched?"

"Mhmn.."

"Fuck, kid..." Tony gasps, "What did I do to deserve you?"

"Everything," Peter whispers back, nuzzling closer, feeling completely owned. Just as he should be.

Thank you so much for reading!!! Likes, Comments and reblogs are MUCH appreciated!

#starker #tony stark x peter parker #SFSecretStarker24 #shut up nika #nika writes

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thestarkerisobvious · 14 days

Text

Demon Lover

art by the always-amazing @starker-sorbet

Demon Lover

Rated NC17

It was moments like these that College Student Peter Parker was so grateful he didn’t have a dormmate.

And only partially because that meant he didn’t have a bunkbed.

Because if he DID… well… that meant he’d be having to take it doggy-style on the floor… a thought that made Peter smile to himself.

“What’s so funny?” the jock grumbled, pulling away (again?!) and Peter looked back over his shoulder with a sweet, winning smile. His hook-up, who had been all swagger and bold talk at the frat party, was suddenly nervous. Possibly because Peter’s ancient dormhall creaked and groaned in a way that seemed particularly menacing tonight. Mr. Jock had even mentioned the rumor that this particular hall was haunted, but Peter had dismissed that with a mention of the age of the building (and a very quick shedding of clothing.)

“Just so glad you’re here, handsome,” Peter said gently, pushing his ass backward toward Mr Jock (who’s name might have been Hugh?)

“Now how about getting back to work?” he added coyly, and Mr. Jock seemed to take the hint. As he groaned in pleasure, Peter smiled all the more. He was getting better at this.

His first few college hookups had been marred by his awkward shyness, and even by his all-consuming need to please. This led to weekends spent with equally shy, equally awkward lovers who, while educational, simply didn’t satisfy. (Plus they always wanted to hang out afterward, for deep & meaningful talks about sexuality or possible relationship-building activities or at least repeat-hookups. Peter was interested in neither. Peter was interested in experience.)

And experience was the best teacher.

Just like tonight. He had developed a sweet-but-frank persona, a way of talking to his nightly conquests, both the kind-of-nervous and of-course-I’m-not-nervous types, that both put them at ease and kept things moving at the pace he enjoyed. The persona was one-part authentic and two-parts act, but it seemed to work most of the time.

And it seemed to be working now.

“God you’re a horny little piece of ass,” Mr. Jock jested, grabbing Peter’s narrow waist with two huge hands, his fingers digging to Peter’s white flesh hard enough to leave bruises on a normal person. Peter shivered at the thrill and spread his legs even wider, dropping his head and arching his back, moaning in need. He didn’t care if Mr. Jock made fun of him for it now (or talked about him later.) He was too hungry to care. He whimpered involuntarily at the first sweet burn of penetration.

And then yelped involuntarily and bowed his back. Damn this boy had no finesse.

“Okay, okay, let’s try that again…” Peter said quickly, breathlessly, trying to smile and soothe and readjust and keep their two bodies connected all at the same time.

A task that was not made easier when his framed Valedictorian certificate, and his framed Science Fair medal of honor and his framed acceptance letter all slipped off the wall simultaneously and went crashing to the floor.

“Nonono its fine, don’t worry about that…” Peter gasped, reaching behind him to take Mr. Jock’s hand, probably too tightly (dammit it was so hard to do this and remember his super-strength at the same time!) “Damn thumbtacks never work, just do it like this,” he breathed, shamelessly moving his hips and his ass backward, trying to show this dumb ox how Peter wanted him to use his dick. Fortunately, even this dumb ox had a sense of rhythm. Moving with Peter he seemed to get the rhythm right (even if he couldn’t get the angle right to save his life. Maybe math nerds would be better at this, Peter mused.)

It worked. Maybe-Hugh grabbed Peter’s hips again in that bruising grip and started thrusting mercilessly and Peter stopped thinking altogether.

For just a few moments, it was perfect. Those demanding hands. That demanding cock. Feeling full and controlled and taken.

He was far stronger than Mr. Jock, of course. As huge and broad-shouldered as Maybe-Hugh was, Peter could have pinned him down with one hand. And that just made it better, somehow. Being powerful and willingly handing that power over, completely, to another man.

Of course, that other ‘man’ didn’t know how strong Peter was. Hell, that other ‘man’ probably didn’t know Peter’s name.Peter distracted himself by sneaking a peek back at the powerful body behind him, all broad shoulders and smooth muscles and sweat. Tonight’s conquest was huge and beefy and rough… also pretty dense, but Peter had learned not to be picky about hookups. Especially ones that smelled as manly, as salty as this one.

And god just the sight of those sweating, straining muscles was turning him on beyond measure. If only Mr. Jock would lean over his back just enough for Peter to feel the drops falling onto his back… but changing their position only a tiny bit might end the perfect rhythm of thrusting and Peter wasn’t about to risk it.)

Peter closed his eyes and opened up his senses. Not the enhanced kind that let him know what people were eating in the dorm rooms down the hall (GOD he was so glad the rooms right next to him were empty. It was hard to be quiet when you were getting a good fucking) but brought all the sensory input from this single room in to super-sharp focus.

The scent of sex and salt and urgency filled his nostrils and his brain and made him so very, very glad he had gone through all the trouble of convincing Mr. Jock back to his room. And the body heat… even though it was only the boy’s legs pressing against the backs of Peter’s legs… it was like being burned by an oven. Once again Peter grinned with gratitude, this time about the excellent thermostat that controlled the temperature in his room. Keeping it just a hair above comfortable (and then swearing it was broken and there was nothing he could do about it) made sure that his partners sweat, and right now his current partner was sweating beautifully. It filled the room with the heady, sweet perfume that made Peter’s head swim. If only it were possible to get pounded from behind AND keep his mouth attached to that warm, moist skin… maybe Mr. Jock wouldn’t mind a few tender, lingering kisses against his neck or chest after the sex was over. Not every lover did.

Peter loved the taste of human male skin, but if he couldn’t get a taste, he would certainly enjoy the aroma. He arched his neck, raising his head, breathing in the moment, letting his senses record everything. The beautiful scent of two human bodies working together, the constant, steady vibration of the bed moving against the wall, the throaty moans of the boy behind him…

“Gonna’ fuck you to death… I’m gonna leave that hole busted open from my dick…”

Peter ducked his head quickly before Maybe-Hugh could see him roll his eyes.

Sometimes he wished he could turn his hearing off completely.

But now Maybe-Hugh was whimpering with a high-pitched, needy urgency that told Peter his perfect moment might already be over. He turned his head to say something… maybe not something completely people-pleasing, maybe to actually speak up and ask for Maybe-Hugh to slow down a bit, to try to draw out the moment, even for a few seconds longer…

…then Maybe-Hugh reached out and grabbed Peter by the left arm and yanked it backward.

This sent Peter sprawling face-first into his own bed. Which was not a bad sensation by itself, but sent Peter’s ass into a right-facing slant which meant Maybe-Hugh’s dick went in at a painful angle.

Peter yelped.

Then the lamp at the night table flung itself into the air and across the bed, clipping the other boy across the face.

Maybe-Hugh screamed.

—————————–

“It’s okayit’sokayit’sokay it’s nothing!!” Peter pleaded, reaching out as Mr. Jock jumped up from the bed, looking frantically around for his attacker. “You just knocked the lamp over, it’s okay…

“It’s okay!” Peter said louder, not the other boy but to the room in general.

“What the fucking fuck was that?!” Mr. Jock finally managed, not even noticing Peter’s hands on his, trying to pull him back onto the bed.

“You just knocked the lamp off the night table… it’s not expensive it’s just from the goodwill store…”

“It went flying across the fucking room!”

“Well you were being really vigorous dude…” Peter smiled, or at least tried to, fighting to find that tone again, the tone that would make his partners relax… to keep them in the mood… or at the very least, keep them in the room.

“You were amazing… and pulling me face-down on the bed was hot… you just gotta keep it at a 180 degree angle and…”

“What the fuck is wrong with your dormroom, man?!?!”

“Oh come on, baby, you were so close!” Peter begged, trying to smile and look soothing, all at the same time. Come on…”

He moved up to his knees and risked flinging his arms around Mr. Jock’s neck, letting his hands dangle behind the large, square head delicately. “I promised you my ass was tight, and wasn’t it? You were so close… come on baby… just because you broke my lamp doesn’t mean we have to stop…”

“Dammit they told me not to go with you, they told me this damn place was haunted…”

“My dorm room is not haunted!”

Mr. Jock looked down at him, surprised. But people always looked surprised when Peter raised his voice. He had quite an unexpected tone when he was trying to keep things under control.

Peter wasn’t sure if there was any point in trying anymore, but still, he tried. Mostly because they had only been at it for about seven minutes, and it had taken twice that long just to talk Mr. Jock into wearing the damn condom. For an city boy, Mr. Jock sure hadn’t been too informed about safe sex.

“Hey… come on… are you really going to let some stupid, inane Tri-Delt ghost story keep you from getting laid? Seriously?” He joked, softening his tone the tiniest bit, but not letting go of his lover’s hands, still pulling him back onto the bed.

“Now get back over here and get back to it!” he said, semi-playfully. It seemed to work… they were moving back onto the bed in any case. Mr. Jock’s eyes were wide, but he seemed to be obedient. Especially when Peter turned his back and pressed it against that hard, muscular (sweaty!) chest, hooking one arm behind them both and combing his fingers through his lover’s sweat-soaked hair.

“You just broke my lamp,” he teased, grinding his body against his lover’s suggestively. “The least you can do is finish what you started…”

“You spooky little shit,” came the growl from behind him. “I’m going to fuck that candy-ass until your knees bleed…”

The lamp exploded.

———————————-

Peter continued to argue. He might have pulled it off - in addition to super-strength and extra-sensitive hearing he also had a an uncanny gift of persuasion. He might have even convinced the panicked boy for a few minutes longer - yes, said boy’s discarded shirt currently flying around the room but Peter had managed to keep his arms around Hugh’s neck and thus his face pointed it the opposite direction.

But then Hugh caught a glimpse of the aerial laundry show in the mirror and it didn’t matter.

Then the heavy rotary phone on the other night table began ringing and Peter gave up.

It wasn’t a normal telephone ring, because of course it wasn’t. It was a long, terrifying continuous wail, loud enough to drown out the stammering and swearing as Maybe-Hugh frantically yanked on his pants and attempted to retrieve enough of his clothing to escape. “At least you’re not trying to yank the cord out of the wall,” Peter muttered, mostly to himself, as he sat, defeated on the bed. The last lover who had done that in an attempt to make the phone stop making the ungodly noise had just found that it made the phone ring louder than ever…

…which, come to think of it, was probably how Peter got the reputation of living in a “haunted dorm hall.”

“You forgot your shirt!” he called out half-heartedly as his panicked hook-up ran out the door, slamming it behind him. Not that it mattered. Apparently Maybe-Hugh had decided that pants and shoes were enough to make his escape.

Peter signed heavily. He waited.

Finally, the phone stopped its clamor.

Finally, the windows stopped rattling as the walls ceased to vibrate. One by one, the floating laundry dropped, item by item to the floor.

They even piled themselves right next to the hamper.

Still Peter didn’t speak.

The thrift-store lamp meekly lifted itself up from the floor and floated, humbly, back to its original position. Peter leaned over to one side to let it pass. It was still hopelessly broken, but he said nothing.

It wasn’t the first broken lamp he had to deal with. That’s why he got them from goodwill in the first place.

He sat with his mouth closed for some time. Forehead creased. Considering carefully. The silence filled the small dorm room.

Finally, he spoke.

“Tony, we have to talk.”

#Starker #Peter Parker/Tony Stark #Demon!Tony #thewitchway writes stuff

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