#id benefit from the sensory experience and the fucked up face

[vzajemnik]

i wish someone would beat me up

[radioactivespacerobot]

This was a triumph...I’m making a note here...”Hello World”

Hello. My name is Aethus Arco, but you can call me Arco if it suits you. I'm basically a modified version of Aperture Science Corp. core drone, but I was taken away by an ex-employee of theirs named Simon Maxwell, which was fired for mocking the head company leader Cave Johnson and caught tossing lemons at Mr. Johnson's hovercar. Maxwell was promptly stripped of any Aperture Science technology and forced into an elevator to the surface. However, they did not realize that he had a key card back onto the company premises and managed to dig through enough scrap bins and salvage heaps in their upper levels.

He took me to his lab at home, where he repaired me and made some modifications. He changed my skin tone (painted me matte black), altered my internal core's internal lighting (green for stable, red for overheating and yellow for diagnostic inquiry). He also eventually provided me with an external body suit that he developed himself, to attach to - in the event that he requires a bodyguard or for me to be an extra pair of hands in his lab. When news of the destruction at Aperture Labs spread, Maxwell started the decline of his mental health. He began taking excursions into the ruins, searching for documents on various projects the place had worked on. He would always return empty handed with broken down turrets, miniaturized versions of companion cubes, and one time a solid plastic version of what looked to be a chocolate cake. After months of searching, Maxwell came running back into his lab, laughing haphazardly into a cacophonous torrent of hacking coughs. After catching his breath, he produced a microchip that looked old and dated, placing it into his computer. On the screen popped up a schematic of several parts spread apart, which moved together to form a singular object that resembled a hand cannon. In the corner was the project ID "ASHPoD" I looked over towards Maxwell and inquired "What is this Project ASHPoD?" Maxwell took a moment before replying, still catching his breath from his excursion outside. "It stands for '*Aperture Science Handheld Portal Device*' or Portal Gun, for short." His eyes were still focused on the schematic, memorizing all it's intricacies and design choices. "Oh look what they did with the energy regulator! *sigh*...I used to be on the team, but someone went and claimed I mocked the CEO's recent announcement, but all I did was correct him on something minor! They took me off the project and stuck me with test room development, a position in which I would be punished by watching the same project be used...good riddance for *Aperture Douchebags*..." After recovering the schematic, Maxwell's behavior became more irregular, displaying random fits of shouting and violence. He would punch the wall, recoil from his injury from the act and look sad from the result, I did not understand this behavior at the time. Before one of his searches, I tried to reason with him, "Aperture Labs is a veritable labyrinth, Maxwell. Why go through so much trouble to find your old project? I'm sure we can--" I was immediately halted from saying anything further with a slam on the desk. "NO! I have to get this damn thing! I have to get out of here! I have to leave this fucking wasteland!" His face was bright red from raising his blood pressure. He turned from me and walked toward the door, "I'm going to go, make sure to turn on the force field, don't need anyone ransacking the place..." It was after this interaction that I decided to prepare for a journey of my own, since I was certain, if he did find what he was looking for, I would be dismantled or left behind. I attached myself to my robotic body, and began reading through several physics books. I had read some of Maxwell's fictional literature before he reprimanded me, saying that I 'should increase my technical knowledge rather than filling it with nonsense.' When I inquired why he possessed them, he simply replied "Escape." Within the fictional stories, there was an elusive technology called *time travel.* The fortuitous luck of living in an area with nothing but wild critters had it's benefits. Testing of the device more than once resulted in scorched marks on the ground and one event where the gravity of a 15 foot radius was lighter than everywhere else. I completed my device and prepared to leave, making final use of Maxwell's workshop, not knowing where I would end up, or if I would sustain damage. I implemented a hologram of a person which looked similar to Maxwell, but younger and dressed in the clothing from the 21st century Earth, all so I would not cause a scene with anyone that might freak out seeing technology out of their time. With a final glance at the wasteland that I had known for 2 years as my home, I disabled the security of the camp so Maxwell could still access it, and placed a portal and walked through it. The location I ended up choosing to settle down in was a state called Texas in the United States of America. I had chosen the early 2000's because there was no major wars, no technology that would interfere with my superior core, and my VIP (variant intelligence personality) chip at the center of my core, I could calculate emotions and feelings like a regular human could. Thermal technology would allow me to input food into my hologram's mouth and simultaneously analyze it's sensory information like texture, taste and composition, but also disintegrate so it would not damage or corrode any components. The utensils that would be used are left untouched to ensure future food consumption. Adapting in the 21st century has been a smoother transition than living in the 25th, but adapting to languages are very easy and I want to learn more about the human experience. Fortunately, electrical energy is easily obtainable in American plug outlets, and I quickly was able to make an extension to utilize during sleep times. I also programmed autonomous movement from the body to remove and attach myself to it, although to humans it would appear like I have been beheaded. I appear as a young adult who stays more secluded and interacts with other people who don't enjoy close personal contact, but still want to be social members of society. Maybe someday I will go outside and learn more hands on with people up close...

[ohwereusingourmadeupnames]

And the Sunshine Shinin’

Pairing: Peter Parker/Tony Stark Rating: Explicit (E) Warnings: stripper!Tony, smut Notes: I used @modest-demon‘s artwork as inspiration for this one. If you want the full effect, take a peak at it here before you read through this :D Summary:

Tony Stark is a notorious stripper going by the name Iron Man. The further he gets into his career, the more behind the scenes he becomes until he's only working private jobs. Peter Parker hires Iron Man for MJ's bachelorette party and sexy stripper Tony Stark dances his little heart out. Little does Peter know that Tony Stark is Morgan Barnes-Rogers's Uncle Tony. Things get interesting when he walks with her into Peter's kindergarten class the morning after their strip club experience.

You can read it on AO3 here

Tony never thought he’d make stripping a career. In fact, he’d never stepped foot into a strip club until the first day of what would become a pretty damn good job for a long time. He’d been struggling since graduating from MIT – the prospect of joining good ole’ daddy dearest in his suits and executive bull shit made Tony’s stomach curl every single time he thought about it. Not only did he have a pretty subpar relationship with his father, he also wasn’t known for being able to sit still for long periods of time – and the executive side of Stark Industries did not include regular recess – he checked. Jumping from department to department wasn’t helping anyone. Tony regularly complained about how bored and restricted he felt, and his father was always going on about the lack of effort coming from his son. The prospect of turning 18 brought a lot of things with it, one of them being a complete sense of freedom.

When Steve, one of his buddies he’d met in college and then again through the Stark Industries internship program, mentioned what he did on the side for “fun” money, Tony was instantly intrigued. There weren’t a lot of people privy to the information, but he’d been taking formal dance lessons since his mom mistakenly put him in a ballet class at the ripe again of 6. The glaringly obvious opportunity in front of Tony’s face came with added benefit of pissing his father off if the man ever decided to track him down or find out what he did with his time. Who would have thought that a teenage act of rebellion could be something that was just so – right? That first night walking into the club, Tony felt more nervous than he ever did during a test at MIT or a presentation at his father’s company. The adrenaline coursing through his veins was the thing missing and he knew it right away. He’d been pretty sure of it putting his routine together earlier that afternoon – his feelings in that instant sealed the deal.

The guys are the door were thorough in their inquisition about his age and a couple different forms of ID had him in the door – the look shared between the man and Steve probably working in his favor, too. In all honesty, he probably only had one shot to make an impression at a place like the one they were in – the club obviously more upscale than some of the others out there. He followed Steve closely, the narrow hallway like something Tony never experienced before. It funneled down into what he quickly found to be a dressing room with men and women alike in various degrees of undress. It was an instant sensory overload – and he wondered how people ever got used to it. Though, thinking about it, he’d need to get over it pretty quickly. There were bound to be a pretty decent collection of humans on the other side of the door. Sucking in a breath, Tony squared his shoulders up and walked over to the empty space next to Steve.

“I didn’t work out a costume. You think there’d be something I could put on for tonight?” Tony asked Steve under his breath, his friend chuckling – a long finger pointing to a big closet in the corner. “You take it, you wash it. Just make sure you can move in it and get it off,” Steve replied steadily, his own pilot costume laid out on the bench in front of them. Tony nodded and made a straight beeline to the closet – there was a wide selection of the customary clichés, all things Tony figured he’d never be able to pull off. Digging into the stuff a little bit more, he found a black vest that was thick leather halfway until what he assumed would be mid-chest and the rest was solid strips of that same leather, like the billowing plastic pieces at the end of bike handles. He smirked and pulled the vest against his chest – the piece of music he’d dance to finally clicking into his head. The black leather chaps he found at the beginning of his search would go perfectly with the piece of main inspiration for the personality he planned to portray.

Getting the pants on, he felt confused by the suspenders attached to them, but went with it – they looked good down off of his shoulders and would create movement throughout his routine rather nicely. He slipped back into the shoes he decided to wear and took a look in the full-length mirror on the wall – his eyes bulging for a second at the sexy stranger he saw looking back at him. The outfit enhanced all the things Tony was looking to put on display and it gave him more of a darker vibe – something he wanted to make sure he projected, too. The air of mystery seemed to be half the fun of something like this – if he could keep people on their toes, how could they not come back for more? Running both hands through his hair, Tony ruffled the locks giving himself the fresh out of bed look. Hopefully his choices would have the desired effect and capture the audience’s attention. Though he’d never used a pole or danced in front of a crowd in a way meant to be titillating, Tony knew what it was like to desire attention and found many ways to acquire it over the years.

What more was taking your clothes off for someone other than the explicit and sometimes forceful demand for attention?

The steady thrum of nervousness stuck around and kept Tony in front of the mirror, the younger man watching himself move through the motions he’d been practicing – his natural ability to understand the beat of music would help him, but he wanted to be prepared. The last thing he wanted was to go out there and make a total ass of himself. He raptly watched the suspenders down by his hips fly through the air out of a turn and smiled – his outfit choice really was exactly what he was looking for.

He took a break from worrying to watch a bit of Steve’s dance from the side of the stage – the guy couldn’t really dance, but the firmness of his body and the boyish charm he used seemed to have the same effect. Watching an older lady put a five-dollar bill in the small waistband hiding under the plain black pants he started the routine in was one of the best experiences Tony could remember having and immediately eased all the lingering feelings of self-doubt. If dopey ass Steve Rogers could win over the old bitties – Tony would be way more than okay.

He watched with fascination as Steve came back into the locker room covered in sweat and fisting several bills in his hands – a black trash bag slung over his shoulder. Tony yearned to feel the tangibility of cash he got to shake his ass for and gladly gave up his music request to the sound guy a few minutes before stepping on stage himself. There was just enough time to give Rogers some shit before going out and doing the same damn thing.

“I thought that old lady was going to go for the whole package, Stevie – you got lucky,” Tony smirked, the shit talk falling seamlessly from his lips. Steve colored and smacked him on the bare shoulder, “It’s your turn next, Tony. They’re going to love you,” he felt the other man’s eyes trail over him for a second and then the glance was gone – the idea of it enough to add to the little bit of confidence he’d managed to acquire throughout the night waiting to perform.

Tony ran through the routine he’d put together in his mind a couple more times on his way up to the stage – he practiced a couple shimmies and then straightened himself up. With all of his costume in place, Tony waited impatiently for his time on the stage. Before stepping up, a guy with a microphone in his hand stopped him – his hand flat on the naked flesh of Tony’s stomach. He looked up surprised, the idea of being touched so candidly still something that was settling into the depths of his mind.

To make this work, he’d quickly need to get over it and as the fingers lingered for an extra second, Tony took a deep breath and pushed the gross feeling that threatened to overtake him away. “What’s your name, kid?” The guy asked now that he’d successfully gotten Tony’s attention. “Tony,” he said back to him quickly. The man smirked and shook his head. “What’s your stage name?” Tony felt a flush of embarrassment run through him, but quickly got his shit together – the perfect name coming to the forefront of his mind almost instantly.

“I’m Iron Man,” Tony said with confidence, his eyes wide with excitement.

The announcer made up some bull shit about Tony’s backstory while he got himself set up on the middle of the stage – the lights still low. He gave the opening music a couple seconds to play before he stepped forward and started to roll his hips – the sweet beats of Ginuwine the soundtrack to a life changing experience.

Needless to say, Tony truly found himself on the stage that night – his black trash bag full of money a true motivator. The subtle fuck you he said to all the people who didn’t give a shit about him a fabulous consolation prize.

----

The brilliance of that night was almost twenty years ago. Just like Tony figured, the costume idea and stage name went off like a rocket – his career bloomed so quickly that he didn’t have a chance to think about his father’s disappointment or the untimely death of his mother only a couple weeks after that first dance. The more time he spent on the stage, the more people seemed to like him. With his structured dance background and ability to be shameless, Tony easily understood just how right the business was for him. After that initial time up on the stage, Tony got his feet under him and started to dance more and more throughout the night. Instead of going once an hour, he went twice – and when someone was missing for the night, or not getting as much in the way of tips like the rest of them, Tony filled in there, too. It was easy to see that his mysterious persona and crazy moves on the pole were crowd favorites. Who would have thought being able to move his hips and look good almost naked would make a name for him?

Things stayed that way for a while, too. Tony left his engineering background behind and focused completely on dancing. And since he had such a following, the club he danced in let him use the poles and dance floor space whenever he wanted. The routines and moves changed, but Tony kept with his signature style. The main addition that stuck with the rest of his get up was a felt cowboy hat. He used it often to keep the brim low over his eyes – the inability to see his stare always seemed to do the trick. When he’d slide down onto his knees and pull the hat off of his head, the crowd went crazy. For most of his performances, Tony kept that air of mystery about him and only let the crowd get a glimpse of anything other than his swaying hips and tight ass once or twice per dance. On top of that, he spent a good amount of time on the pole throughout his dances – the only thing a spectator could really see was the way he spun, or the tightness of his legs when he’d slide down with no hands and only the muscles in his thighs to stop him.

About ten years into his career, Tony got offered an opportunity to move to a new club with a few of the guys he’d been dancing with for a while. Between him and Steve – Fury’s did really well, and though they made the club more money than it ever made before, their cuts of the take were not going up in the same way. It never bothered Tony much, he took in enough on his own to make at least a thousand dollars any of the nights he danced. Yet, he couldn’t miss out on the opportunity to take a place from the ground floor up. He owed Nick Fury a whole lot for initially taking a chance on young Tony Stark – however, he owed himself a lot more and the move to Marvel’s Finest was the easiest decision Tony could remember making since stepping on the stage for the first time. Aside from dancing, Tony and Steve spent a good bit of time recruiting other dancers and after a couple years of making the club a success – Tony started to take his turn behind the microphone as an MC.

For about thirteen years, Tony appreciated the stripping life for all that it was. The parties, the ability to make a whole month’s worth of money in one night, even the drugs every now and again. It was easy to let the years pass by in a haze of dance routines and pot-induced binges. He liked the notoriety of being Iron Man and for a long while, that was enough. Things started to change when Steve met Bucky and all of the people around him were suddenly starting to settle down. His friend still danced of course – one couldn’t give up primetime floor spots on Friday and Saturday nights, but he was also starting to move his work life away from the club. Though he’d never admit it, Tony felt a little jealous anytime he saw the two of them together and felt like an old fuck when he was around some of the younger dancers that were getting the easy attention of the crowd like he used to. People came specifically to see Tony these days – he wasn’t pulling the wild and spontaneous crowds the way the younger guys were. And all of the sudden, dancing wasn’t enough.

Of course, he’d been a college graduate since the prime age of 15 – he had a mechanical engineering degree under his belt, one from MIT of all places. If he wanted, he could walk back into Stark Industries, which was still being run by his stingy, asshole of a father, and get his job back. The idea of it popped into his head a few times but then he always remembered how miserable he’d been there, how boring the humdrum of day to day shit was in a stuffy situation like cooperate America. The entire reason he’d escaped to dancing in the first place was to get away from that situation – no, that wouldn’t work. No, instead of heading back into the fire of being a businessperson, Tony wanted something with creative freedom, something that would allow him to do what he wanted when he wanted.

The perfect opportunity fell into his hands when he spent a random afternoon with Bucky, the man a perfect mixture of old fashioned and hippy. His creative spirit always had Steve out at art shows or taking in theater – in all the time Tony knew the guy, he never thought to picture Steve Rogers in an opera house. He seemed smitten, though, so Tony went out of his way to get to know the guy – to create a relationship with him that could withstand Steve keeping Bucky in his life. The first few times were a little weird, kind of awkward – Tony wasn’t the easiest to get along with and Bucky’s personality threw the man for a loop. The more time Tony spent with him though, the more Tony understood why he was perfect for Steve and the more he realized just how cool the guy actually was.

They were out hiking at one of the remote locations the group found earlier that summer, enjoying the bright sunshine and absence of other humans. Tony watched with curious eyes as Bucky pulled a camera from his bag and started to take pictures of everything around him. He’d seen the man’s disposables before, but this thing was nice – a fully functional film camera with a wide digital display. He looked over the man’s shoulder while he showed him a couple of the functions. “Do you want to try it?” Bucky asked, his hand already in the process of handing the thing over to Tony before he could even respond. He nodded anyway and eagerly accepted the camera, the tech part of his brain already trying to categorize all the different parts and pieces. He didn’t take a picture for a while and simply studied the tech in his hands. Knowing how it worked always helped Tony make the most of those functions. Fiddling with it, he happened to glance up and see Bucky staring out into the distance. Without much thought, Tony brought the camera up and glanced down the viewfinder – he fiddled with the focus slightly and pressed his finger against the button, the snap of the shudder oddly satisfying.

A couple of weeks later, Tony was practicing a new routine in the gym and dance space he converted the garage of the house into. The garage door was wide open, so he shouldn’t have been surprised when he finally noticed the presence of another human. He’d been balls deep in step counts and music timing to even notice Steve – his friend was leaned against the open wall watching him when Tony came to. “What the fuck, Rogers?” Tony asked, the man grabbing the towel he’d thrown against the chair he kept around to toss himself into when he needed a break and wiping his brow. The taller man smiled and pointed at the open door. “If you didn’t want someone to come in, you shouldn’t keep the door wide open. Besides, I needed to show you this,” Steve unfolded his arms and revealed the brown envelope he’d been holding in his hand. “Bucky was showing me the prints from your hike a few weeks ago and when he showed me this one, I had to catch my breath.” Finally, he let the envelope out of his hand, Tony’s sweaty fingers fumbling with it. He pulled the photo of Bucky he sneakily snapped out and glanced at it – he looked lost in thought, a soft smile on his lips pulling the whole thing together.

“This is the best picture I’ve ever seen, Tony,” Steve said after a couple minutes of silence. Tony blinked back from his observation and tilted his head. “Thanks, Cap. Now tell me why you needed to interrupt rehearsal to tell me that,” Tony snapped back, his eyes still focused on the really good picture in his grasp. He knew exactly what the other man was alluding to. The idea of crafting his own camera and getting really good behind it had passed through his mind multiple times since he realized how cool the science behind photography really was. Maybe a push in that direction would be enough to motivate him – to convince him of the worth of the knowledge in his head. He got his wish – Stevie boy never missing the opportunity to impart wisdom upon him.

“You’ve been looking for something to do. I think you found it. The dance company Bucky’s niece dances at is looking for an in-house photographer. Do your smart kid thing, practice a little, and see if maybe you like seeing dance from a different perspective. It might keep you busy,” Steve motioned for the picture back as he spoke, his hands a little reverent as he put it back into the envelope for safe keeping. “Think about it,” he spoke again, Steve’s free hand patting Tony’s shoulder lightly. Watching him wipe his hand off against his jeans was the right amount of satisfaction – the man’s words fresh in Tony’s ears when he turned back to the open floor and started going through the motions of the routine again.

The start of that new adventure was slow going. Tony decided that if he was going to get into the business, he wanted to have a piece of technology that he knew would do the work he wanted it to do. He got the same model as Bucky’s and made a bunch of custom adjustments to it – both in its programming and the structure. The camera body’s ability to have several different lenses attached to it brought even more ideas for adjustments to be made. By the time he felt satisfied he’d spent more time screwing around with the camera than actually using the damn thing. Tony spent an annoying amount of time snapping away during rehearsals and whatever photos he could get of Steve working or him and Bucky interacting together. Tony knew the easiest way to get good at something was to practice, so he did. Little by little, he felt himself find a level of comfort behind the camera – to the point where he wanted to be there more often times than not.

The job with the dance academy opened a ton of doorways for Tony and after a couple years, he felt good enough about the steadiness of work that he could deem the business he put together successful. T. Stark Photography – the business cards he passed out were sleek and mysterious, just how Tony liked it. It felt good to be known by others in a way that didn’t include him taking off his clothes and dancing to rocky-stripper beats. The more he got into the photography world, including modifying cameras and mastering all of the Adobe Photo products, the further he allowed himself to stray from the stripping world. He started to do more MC work and when he did dance, it was for private parties and small groups at Marvel’s Finest. With all of the changes, Tony could finally say he felt pretty good about his life and himself. There was enough money coming in to keep him in the nice house he’d built from the ground up and freedom to do what he wanted, when he wanted.

Which is why Tony found himself taking a stripping job for the first time in a while – the guy on the phone sounding very enthusiastic and eager, the combination of which was very hard for Tony to turn down. He made the appointment and scheduled his remaining photo gigs for the month around the private dance at Marvel’s Finest for a Michelle Jones’s bachelorette party. The thing that really made him smile was the fact that the person on the other side of the phone was looking for Iron Man specifically – not just the dancer Tony Stark. He’d been much more open about who he was the more time he spent behind the microphone instead of on the stage. Only some of the older people who saw Tony dance in his younger years still knew him as Iron Man. Well, he’d also done a magazine spread in Play Girl once – but that was years ago, too.

The night of the party ended up on a Thursday, which worked out perfectly for Tony. Steve and Bucky tied the knot about a year after Tony’s photography journey started. It was the very first wedding Tony shot and still his very favorite. There are still several of the prints from it littered around his in-home studio. A year after that, they adopted a baby girl named Morgan – and Tony immediately fell in love with her. They gave him the privilege of being Uncle Tony and ever since she was big enough, he took care of her on Friday’s. The girl was now 5 years old and one of the coolest people he’d ever known. He got to take her to school for the first time, too – so Tony found himself excited most of the day Thursday. For the first time in a while, he was ready to dance and have fun with people that were obvious fans of his “work”. Then, he’d start the weekend off with one of his favorite humans on the planet. The chocolate chips for their traditional Friday night pancakes were on his counter, waiting eagerly to be consumed.

A few minutes before he was set to perform, Tony found himself with his phone in his hand, the song selections for the night still in limbo. He could do any of his performances to most of the songs he had in mind – he’d been dancing long enough to piece together when a hip roll would look good where. Yet, he himself found going back towards some of his old stuff, Kid Rock’s Cowboy popping up way too often to be ignored. The song entitled lots of work on the bar and lots of time with only his vest and the small black pair of briefs on – but he figured that’d be perfect for a bunch of women (and a couple of guys) eager to have a little time with Iron Man. With that settled, Tony went back into the locker room to grab his purple felt hat – tonight he was rocking dark tear-away jeans that fit all of his contours in all of the right ways. His black vest was reminiscent of the one he wore that first night and thick black boots finished the look, the laces tied just enough to give him support and the ability to move.

A spark of excitement went through him when he settled into the open space of the dance floor, the music starting to loud applause of the people at the end of the stage. He tipped the hat over his eyes and started to move, his hips swinging, his steps long filled with a couple of spins and full body rolls – his eyes intent on the pole right around the time the song got close to the first chorus.

Buy an old drop-top find a spot to pimp And I'mma Kid Rock it up and down ya' block With a bottle of scotch and watch lots a crotch Buy a yacht with a flag sayin' "Chillin' the Most"

His back hit the pole at the end of the beat, and he climbed his way up it – the man glad that he still had his jeans on for this move. Tony let his hands drop and he spun down to the space right before the floor, the clench of his thighs stopping him. He used the strength in his back to flip him over and back onto his feet – the last couple of beats hitting with the sway of his lips before the dance really started.

Cowboy, baby! With the top let back and the sunshine shinin' Cowboy, baby!

Tony pushed himself to his knees and felt himself sliding towards the crowd, one hand bringing the hat from his head and the other slipping down by his boot, his abs and crotch on display with the thrust of his hips when the friction inevitably slowed him down. There were bills thrown on the dance floor around him, but Tony didn’t pay any attention – his eyes suddenly drawn to a younger man with bright eyes that were peeled on him, his hair long and a little curly, a few of the locks at the side of his neck curling against the skin there.

He flawlessly brought himself back to his feet and used the next few hard hits of the bass to get himself into a position to tear his pants off – the black briefs he chose having the desired effect he predicted, the applause for once actually driving him on. Tony made is his way across the stage to all the different groups of women, his back to them, wiggling his ass, or his chest and abs on display for the hands that were grabbier than he usually allowed. The man was standing in the cluster of people gathered around the bride – so he saved them for last. His closeout moves were some of his best and by the end of the song, he was freely shaking his ass in their direction – the smallest amount of hope that those doe eyes were still so transfixed upon him making the moves a little extra.  

The end of the song came before anyone was ready for it and Tony was quickly gathering the vest that was within reach to get off the stage. Whoever was prepping the stage for the next dance would get the remainder of his stuff and collect whatever tips that came from the dance not currently tucked into the waistband of his underpants. Tony felt a faint smile on his lips from the amount of fun that’d been and finally understood what balance actually was. Shaking his head, he went through the process of getting dressed – which included pulling bills from his underwear and trying to get the little bit of glitter he put on his body earlier off. His skin was still slick from sweating for 5 minutes straight, so a shower was the only way to really clean himself up and that would have to wait until later. Now that his job was done and his money was collected, Tony snuck out of the back door of the club – the call of his pillow louder than any thought of staying out and enjoying a night with a partying crowd.

Morning came fast and not for the first time, Tony felt grateful for the little bit of responsibility he learned over the years. There were so many nights when sleep would claim him not long before he needed to be up for something or another. It only took slowing down a bit to realize how nice it was to actually get a good night’s sleep. He got himself up and through the few things he needed to do in the morning, the excitement of seeing his little punk picking the pace of the activities up a little bit.

With little effort, Tony got himself into his car and headed towards Steve and Bucky’s place. It seemed like they liked Tony Friday’s just as much as Morgan did – they greeted him very cheerfully and told him of their plans to simply enjoy the evening at home together. Everyone got a hug before Tony was buckling the little girl into the booster he kept in his backseat for this very occasion. She’d been babbling about something or another since he got there, and he felt content to let her talk while he got her to school on time. Before he left, Bucky insisted on him going in and meeting the teacher – he wanted to make sure the guy knew who it was picking Morgan up later.

It was pretty funny how things worked out. Tony couldn’t help the laugh that left his lips when he recognized those doe eyes from the club the night before – the pink blush the exact same, too. The sputtering was cute – he couldn’t deny that. Morgan looked at him curiously for a second before she was distracted by another kid running by her. The girl gave his leg a hug and ran off – leaving the two adults to their own devices.

Not wanting to make the moment awkward, Tony stuck out a hand between them. “I’m Tony. Or Uncle Tony, if you listen to Morgan. Nice to meet you,” Tony spoke confidently, his words trying to say all the things he couldn’t in the current situation – ‘don’t freak out’, ‘I’m just an average guy’,’ you’re so fucking cute’ – all of those things. The man thankfully extended his own hand and grabbed Tony’s, the touch of their palms like an electric shock.

----

Peter couldn’t explain the amount of excitement he was still feeling after MJ’s bachelorette party. When she asked him to plan it, he knew Marvel’s Finest was the best place to take them. Even if MJ decided to take it as a joke, Peter felt obligated to make sure all of the people he invited to join them would enjoy the show, nonetheless. If he decided to book Iron Man for his own pleasure, no one really needed to know that. He could still remember the way that Play Girl opened up to the Iron Man spread – the pages so well used. By the time Peter was old enough to actually enjoy anything like a strip club, the notorious Iron Man wasn’t dancing nearly as much, usually only for private type events.

When the opportunity presented itself, Peter decided to take advantage of it. And boy was it the best abuse of friend power he’d ever experienced. The whole look immediately made Peter hot, his skin on fire. The music selection was perfect for the performance the man decided to put on, and oh – those black briefs. It shouldn’t be legal for people to look that good. The physical manifestation of his attraction was within his grin and if he thought too hard about it – he might have thought the man was looking right back at him.

It shocked the absolute hell out of him when the very star of his fantasy later that evening walked through the doors of his classroom – Morgan Barnes-Rogers in tow. His jaw fell from its tucked position, the muscles surrounding it the only thing keeping it from hitting the ground. In this setting, he could see the man’s salt and pepper hair, his brows arched in recognition. Peter collected himself in time to smile at Morgan before she ran past him and into the writhing mass of kids collected on the play mat.

He was a little surprised when the man stuck a hand out between them an introduced himself. Peter took another second to collect himself before reaching out and grabbing onto it, their palms flashing warm on contact. His fingers gripped the others, the touch probably going on for just a little bit too long. “I’m Peter. Peter Parker. I can’t um – it’s nice to meet you, too,” his words felt a little choked, like he couldn’t quite get them out – but the man’s returning smile gave him courage.

“Bucky said to come in and introduce myself, so here I am. I’ll be picking Morgan up later today, too.” Tony kept the smile on his lips and Peter felt his stomach clench at the sight – the other man’s hand was in his hair and the stretch of his t-shirt revealed the slightest hint of that torso that’d been on display less than twelve hours earlier. His cheeks felt so hot and he forced himself to grin – the idiocy of it probably radiating from his expression. “Sounds good, I’ll be sure to look for you, then. Nice performance by the way,” Peter got the words out quickly, the mortifying feeling of wanting to die fleeting once they were off his tongue. The other’s eyes flashed with something akin to amusement and he saw the man’s grin broaden – the crinkle of his eyes so fucking charming. “Thanks, Peter Parker. See you later,” Tony replied, the man giving him a wink before casually strolling out of the classroom.

The rest of the day, Peter tried his hardest to focus on the young children looking to him to teach them things – he truly did. Luckily, they were slowly working their way through the vowels and were focusing on the letter ‘e’ today – so there were many worksheets that required lots of coloring and minimal teaching on Peter’s part. He kept a close eye on Morgan and wondered just what the back story there was. They weren’t too far into the school year yet, but he knew both her parents from the parent-teacher meet and greet earlier in the year. Until this point, he’d never seen the illustrious Uncle Tony, though the girl did talk about him often. What were the chances that Peter’s walking wet dream was also a tender-hearted man attached to one of the most spirited children he’d ever encountered? Life was weird in the way it threw people into other’s paths. Shaking the thoughts from his head, Peter managed to make it to lunch without thinking about it again.

Sitting down, Peter immediately felt relief when he saw MJ in her usual spot across the table. “Iron Man is Morgan Barnes-Rogers’s Uncle. He’s just as handsome in person, and he’s coming back later on to pick her up. I might have alluded to making sure I kept a lookout for him, I’ll probably see him again. What the hell, MJ?” Peter blabbed all of this at once, his hands successfully pulling apart the brown paper bag his sandwich was currently in. Her soft hands grabbed his, his fingers coming easily off with the slightest of pressure.

“That’s the stripper from last night, right? The one who made me go home and download a Kid Rock song?” MJ questioned, her fingers loosening to have her hands back to pick at the food in her own lunch. “That very one. Is it cliché to want to spend time with the man who I paid to take off his clothes for us? Or am I overthinking this?” Peter’s question seemed valid, but the laugh MJ couldn’t keep in made his face color. “Pete, you’re an idiot. If you hit it off with the guy, does it really matter?”

Peter thought about that question for the last couple of hours of the school day – his mind never moving away from the fact that no, it didn’t matter. He himself had lots of hidden parts to himself – people would never believe the guy that taught their children graduated with a degree in biochemical engineering before thinking about elementary education. Every person was composed of parts and pieces. Though, some parts were a little bit nicer than others. Biting the edge of his thumb, Peter toiled with the idea until there was no time left and he was ushering all the kids to the drop off/pick up point. Like he said, Tony was there waiting, his eyes lighting up when the little girl came into view. He watched Morgan launch herself into his arms and knew in that instant that he was going to let whatever happened – happen.

Tony approached him a minute or so later, Morgan tucked carefully in his arms. “Thanks for taking care of her. She said you guys did ‘e’ for elephant today,” Tony started, a soft smile on his face. The little girl kept herself tucked against the older man, so Peter didn’t mind talking back and forth. “We did. We also learned that elephants are gray. I’m not sure if you knew that, or not.” Peter bit into his lip and felt blush overtake his cheeks.

“How do you feel about coffee?” Peter asked next, the words tumbling from his lips in a fashion that spoke of reckless abandon – like if he didn’t get them out that instant, he never would. The other’s brown eyes caught his and they exchanged a look – the same connection rushing through him like when their palms touched earlier. He watched Tony nod and reach into his pocket. “I like it. Shoot me a text sometime, let’s go for a cup.” His smile was wide and genuine – the card he took from him still warm from the man’s touch.

The card felt heavy in his pocket, the burn of it like a constant reminder of something Peter couldn’t quite name yet. He forced himself to keep it there until he got the classroom put back together and himself home – there were social standards that needed to be kept, after all. They didn’t do too much moving around in class, so the clean-up wasn’t too complicated. There just wasn’t anything to keep his mind away from the thought of what Tony Stark accepting his invitation for coffee actually meant. Whatever it was, Peter planned to make the most of the encounter – simply because he felt determined to understand the man, not just the nude skin he could still remember very, very, very vividly. He quickly shook his head and got his things together – the faster he got home, the faster he’d be able to give into his impulses. There was only so much self-control a guy can have. It didn’t hurt, either, that he only lived a few minutes from the school. Nope, it didn’t hurt one bit.

The first thing he usually did when he got home was change out of his work clothes – the stuffy shirts were nice and all, but there was nothing better than a pair of jeans and a t-shirt. This time, however, he pulled the card from his pocket and took a good look at it. Though he didn’t expect to see the man advertising his stripping career on business cards, Peter was surprised to find that Tony Stark owned a photography business. After a quick check on Instagram, he found out that said photography business was very successful. He spent a bit of time looking at all the different shots, his idea of the man already changing.

There was so much detail in every single picture the man posted – each photo contained so much soul. One of the most recent posts was of the little girl in his class – clicking on it, he noticed the crown on her head and a big five on the cake. She was smiling and looking directly at the camera, a small bit of frosting in the corner of her mouth. It made him feel a little funny, how much of her personality Tony managed to capture in one snapshot of time. More determined than ever, he typed the number on the card into his phone and sent off a couple of messages.

Peter Parker [7:01PM]: Hey, this is Peter Parker. Peter Parker [7:02PM]: Your snazzy business card told me you’re a photographer, so I stalked your insta – you’re really talented, Tony.

Satisfied, Peter put the phone down and went about changing – finally content a few minutes later when he settled onto the couch with his phone in his hand and Stranger Things on the tv. Soon, there was Thai food on the way – the true beginnings of a great night. And it got a little better when he felt his phone buzz a little while later. Looking at the messages, he felt himself smile.

Tony Stark [8:05PM]: Hi, Peter Parker. Tony Stark [8:06PM]: Such praise, many thanks. I enjoy being behind the camera very much. Tony Stark [8:07PM]: Is teaching your one true love, or do you have something else up your sleeve?

Sucking in a breath, he felt something shift inside him. Of course, that would be the first question this mysterious man fired off – the one thing Peter kept close to himself. For whatever reason, he couldn’t get his foot in the door with any of the tech businesses after graduation – so his retreat was very quick, and he changed gears to satisfy the need to have a job and take care of himself. Elementary education fell into his lap when MJ suggested it during one of their many get togethers. He flew through the master’s program and came out on the other side a certified teacher. It didn’t fuel his fire or get him excited – but it paid the bills and kept a roof over his head. All things that were essential after losing the last piece of his family halfway through his freshman year of college. The fact that Tony hit the nail on the head with the first question made his heart race.

Peter Parker [8:10PM]: You can tell. Your stuff really is amazing. Peter Parker [8:11PM]: I actually have a degree in Biochemical Engineering. At one point in time, I wanted to work on tech. Peter Parker [8:13PM]: What are you two up to this evening?

Tony Stark [8:20PM]: Biochemical Engineering, huh? We’ll have to nerd out during this coffee date we’re having. I graduated from MIT with a degree in Mechanical Engineering. Tony Stark [8:22PM]: We made chocolate chip pancakes and now I’m hoping she slips into a food coma so I can get some editing done. What about you? What does Mr. Parker do on a Friday night?

Peter Parker [8:35PM]: It sounds like you have an interesting past, Tony. What was MIT like? Peter Parker [8:36PM]: Chocolate chip pancakes? Color me jealous. Mr. Parker watches Stranger Things and eats too much Thai food. Interesting stuff, I know. Peter Parker [8:38PM]: Will you have Morgan tomorrow? Or can I interest you in brunch with your coffee?

Tony Stark [8:55PM]: I do – it’s very colorful. Maybe I’ll tell you about it someday. It was full of too many classes every semester and lots of burns from the welding torch. I graduated really young and very fast – so I didn’t do much MIT living. Tony Stark [8:56PM]: There are many interesting things about that. Such as: what did you order? And – what season are you watching? Tony Stark [8:59PM]: Little Squirt returns to her parents bright and early. They get to deal with her grumpiness after the sugar crash. I’d love to do brunch.

Things continued in that easy manner between the two of them well into the night. He got a video of Morgan saying goodnight with the low pitch of Tony’s voice in the background instructing her on what to say. Then when she went to bed, they got into a more in-depth conversation about some of the cool theories the Duffy Brothers used to write the show and a few of the cooler projects Tony worked on throughout college. Peter didn’t even think to broach the topic of stripping and thoroughly enjoyed the entire exchange. When he looked up at saw that it was well past 1AM, Peter shook his head and pulled himself off the couch. He’d gotten through most of the second season and couldn’t remember much of it at all. That was a satisfying feeling – being so wrapped up in another person like that. They exchanged another couple of texts before Peter got himself into bed and snuggled under the covers.

Peter Parker [1:21AM]: I’m going to sack out. It was nice talking to you, Tony. Have a good rest of the night!

Tony Stark [1:30PM]: The pleasure was mine, Peter Parker. Sleep well.

It didn’t take long for sleep to pull Peter under and when it did, he felt a little floaty right before losing consciousness. His last conscious thought was how nice it was to really smile for the first time in a long time.

----  

There weren’t a lot of things more intimidating than going out with a human that spent years making a living from how attractive they were. Peter understood that it didn’t define who Tony was – but that didn’t change the fact that the older man had a confidence that Peter couldn’t even think about touching. A little bit of the morning was spent dwelling over how out of his league Tony was and the rest of it, Peter spent in his closet trying to decide what to wear. There was an immediate relief felt in getting out the door.

He assumed most of his nerves were coming from the fact that he’d thoroughly enjoyed their conversation last night and he could easily see himself getting in way too deep way too fast. The survival mechanism of trying to talk himself out of things was a little absurd – but he managed to overcome it and dress relatively well. He glanced down at the blue baseball shirt and dark jean combination he inevitably ended up in. The idea to feel comfortable settled in when he saw the shirt and no matter what else he found that he knew he looked good in – Peter went back to the same shirt every time.

The café he told Tony to meet him at was within walking distance, so he took the opportunity to work off a little of the excess nerves on the walk over. In all of his twenty-five years, Peter never imagined he’d be so hyped up for a date. He’d never felt this way before – like he couldn’t control himself, like things were out of his hands and he was running totally on instinct. Peter felt a little more like himself by the time he got to the café, a smile on his lips at the thought that though he was nervous, he’d get to spend some time with the person he was quickly becoming very interested in. His eyes scanned all around the shop until they settled on the recognizable disarray of hair – Tony’s bedhead one of the things that caught Peter’s eye right away both on the stage and in the classroom. Quickening his pace, Peter made it to the table in a couple of strides, the smile on his face growing a little wider. “Howdy, Cowboy,” Peter said, the tone of his voice laced with sarcasm and joking – he hoped the words were welcoming and just on the right side of teasing.

Tony’s smile just about blew him backwards, the words’ effect a lot better than he could have hoped for. There was the slightest bit of blush on the older man’s cheeks – the color not nearly as beet red as what Peter knew took over his own face. Sitting down across from him, Peter relaxed into the chair and put all his focus on the man before him.. “Hey, Teach. You look bright and bubbly this morning,” Tony remarked, his body turning more towards Peter, too – their eyes locking for a minute. There was heat and curiosity in the shared gaze. There were a lot of things between them – that much was obvious. Most people didn’t engage in several hours’ worth of conversation if they were repulsed by the other person. Peter knew there was attraction, especially on his part. There were too many times of getting himself off to the photos of Tony and more recently, the vision of the other man up on the stage doing what he was obviously so good at. The probing nature of the other’s glance spoke of lust, but Peter wasn’t quite sure and hoped to find out throughout the rest of the conversation.

“Just wait until I have my coffee,” he said jokingly, his hands fiddling with the wrapped-up package of silverware on the table. “Did you and Morgan have a good time together last night? I have to admit, your chocolate chip pancakes served as motivation for brunch today. Rosetta’s has the best overstuffed pancakes,” Peter didn’t try to filter himself – their conversation last night consisted of anything and everything. It didn’t make any sense to not continue that trend now that they were together in person. He watched Tony’s face break into an even bigger smile and tried in vain to remember the sound of the older man’s chuckle. Oh, how he wished to hear that sound all the time.

“Time with Morgan is always the best. We watched The Princess and The Frog, and the rest was history. I think I told you about everything else last night. I honestly can’t remember the last time I spent that much time texting someone else. Steve still has to call every time he wants to say anything – I’ve gotten used to his old guy tendencies,” Tony remarked, his hands thumbing with the menu on the table – though he didn’t open it.

Things stayed pretty light and easy between them, they ordered the promised coffee with an omelet for Tony and bananas fosters pancakes for Peter. They chatted a bit more about Tony’s first robot creation Dum-E and Peter’s foray into teaching. Tony was easy to talk to and Peter absolutely acknowledged that him being easy on the eyes contributed to how much he felt himself paying attention to the man across from him.

He wouldn’t change that for a second, though – all the things he was learning about Tony made him want to keep on listening. Of course, there were parts of him that just wanted to jump across the table and forcefully take Tony’s lips in a kiss, but those urges were a little easier to control. What he couldn’t seem to get a grip on was the brightness of his smile and the blush that would not stop traveling further and further down his chest.

Somewhere in there many topics, Tony’s stripping finally came up. “How did you end up becoming Uncle Tony, anyway? It’s obvious that Morgan adores you – you must have known her most of her life,” Peter said absentmindedly, his mind putting together all of the pieces he currently held in his hand. “I’ve known Steve and Bucky the entire time they’ve been together. I was one of the first people they told when they found out they got cleared to adopt Morgan. Steve was my college roommate. He got an internship at my father’s company, Stark Industries – though he lasted about as long as I did there. He got me my first stripping gig. It made total sense to make me Uncle Tony when the little one came. They need at least one bad influence that isn’t a direct parent,” Tony replied softly, a laugh stuck in the tangle of his words. The thing that got Peter the most wasn’t the casual way he talked about his stripping, but the starry-eyed look he got in his eye talking about Morgan and her family. They were obviously special people to the older man across from him. Peter shook his head and focused on the things he’d just been told. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but I never knew I needed to thank Mr. Rogers for the special gift that Iron Man brought to the world.”

The purely genuine laugh that surrounded Peter in response made his heart clench, the feelings he’d been trying to hold back all evening finally overwhelming him. Peter joined in and felt the oxygen quickly leave his lungs in the flurry of it all. “So you were the one that booked that dance. When I left, I spent a lot of time wondering who in the crowd could have known me – you’re all a little young to have been around during the busy time of my career. The peak of Iron Man’s,” Tony mumbled with a shake of his head.

“I am and I will gladly own up to being the person interested in seeing you dance. I’ve wanted to ever since I saw your spread in Play Girl – but I was never old enough. MJ gave me the reins of her bachelorette party and well, you know the rest.” Peter thought he’d feel embarrassed admitting something so honest like that – but he felt a sense of power overcome him. Maybe now wasn’t too bad of a time to start going after the things he wanted. If all the things the older man taught him in their brief exchanges, it was that being confident and going after things was the only way to get shit done.

Tony didn’t say anything for a couple of minutes, the older man busying himself with finishing off the espresso in his cup and resettling into the back of the chair. His mouth felt a little dry watching Tony stretch the time out, the man obvious in his actions. When their eyes eventually caught – Peter felt a hitch in his breath. The slight heat he’d noticed earlier was now scorching, overtaking Tony’s pupil without leaving much of the beautiful, chocolate brown iris behind. “I think that’s one of the most flattering compliments I’ve ever gotten. I don’t think I’ve ever had a fan that hadn’t seen me dance before. I know for a fact that it wasn’t the dance you were looking for, though, was it? The real strip club experience is a little different than the private shindig you got. There are usually dancers out on the floor willing and eager to give lap dances. I used to be one of those guys, but seniority and all that,” Tony shrugged, and slung his arm carelessly over the back of his chair. “If you’re interested, I could be talked into a private show that’s just for you.” Tony looked up at him then, the connection Peter felt there earlier suddenly scorching hot – a total contrast to the softness of their conversation the night before.

It would be silly, he figured, not to take the man up on the generous offer, so he nodded eagerly. “I am very interested. I can’t promise to keep my hands to myself, though – I’m a kinesthetic learner, hands-on is the only way I know,” Peter’s voice sounded a little scratchy in his own ears and he noticed the words licking across the older man’s skin were affecting him. “Sounds good. One condition, though – we go to my place,” Tony’s voice was low and deep, too – the rumble of it doing things to the tightness of his pants. Gulping in air, Peter nodded – he figured he’d probably agree to just about anything in that moment. They continued to stare at each other, intensifying the heat of moment until the server came to deposit the check on the table – the magic broken for the time being. Peter grabbed the bill before Tony could get his hands on it, a little triumphant gasp slipping from his lips. “You can get the next one,” Peter said, his hand brushing against Tony’s shoulder as he walked past him to pay at the register.

The warmth of Tony’s hand in his own was not nearly as surprising as the way it made him feel – why did the guy have to be so fitting, their palms were staticky, the heat of the combined touched scorching, the burn of it just barely on the right side of tantalizing. Despite the brief interruption of getting into the car, Tony’s grip was sound the entire way to the older man’s house. Instead of teasing like he figured, Tony kept his fingers laced tightly with Peter’s, the gentle sweeping of the thumb on the back of Peter’s hand in tune with the Zeppelin on the radio. The ride was surprisingly peaceful – a huge contrast to the roaring heat of the moment back in the café, but just as nice, just as characteristic to the man he was finding himself enjoying getting to know. In all the ways he assumed he was going to get to know him, too.

They weren’t in the car for very long, the housing division they turned into was a little upscale, yet understated, too. There weren’t a lot of houses jammed into the lot like some of the new subdivisions, so Peter figured the house wasn’t amongst the brand spanking new ones that were constantly being slapped together. The house they pulled up to was one story with a lot of yard surrounding it. There were a couple of trees in the lawn and a really cool screened in porch attached to the front of the house. Other than the one pulling into the driveway, there weren’t any other cars. The house looked immaculately kept and a little bit different than all of the others surrounding it. “I love your porch,” Peter mumbled, his brain mostly still preoccupied checking out all of the things about the place. “Thanks, I built it myself. Other than the guys that came and laid the foundation – most of the house was done by me, now that I’m thinking about it,” Tony replied, his eyes lighting up with pride and excitement.

There were so many things to learn about the man, Peter was quickly finding out. He couldn’t’ decide what he was most excited about, but the hand on his arm and the long finger pointing toward the door reminded him that one of the things he was going to learn very soon was how Tony Stark looked giving a lap dance.

The hand on his arm didn’t stop pulling him until they were in the house and down the hall, in the obvious comfort of the older man’s bedroom. Tony directed Peter to sit on the edge of the bed and he went willingly, his hands sliding under his thighs to quiet the already eager fingers. There wasn’t anything happening yet, and he could already imagine his greedy fingers roaming all over that smooth skin. He’d been unable to get it out of his head since the initial glance of paleness and muscles rippling under the surface. They exchanged a look and Peter couldn’t help the laugh that escaped his lips at the shit eating grin on Tony’s face. Wide eyes watched the older man place a black version of the purple felt hat he wore in the club and start up some music – the round globes of his ass in the painted-on jeans already starting to move to the beat. He’d never see MGMT’s Electric Feel the same ever again.

Tony started to play with the buttons on his shirt, his shoulders and hips moving with the beat. Each time the drumbeat would hit, he’d snap his hips forward – the move hooking Peter’s attention, keeping it on the fluidity of those hips. The distraction of Tony’s hips made the bareness of his chest in the next moment a surprise – a soft gasp left Peter’s lips before he could reign it in. The small noise brought a smile to Tony’s face, the man’s eyes watching him despite the rest of his body moving fluidly. He stopped listening to the music and let his entire focus stay on every single one of Tony’s movements.

By then, the man was close enough to touch if Peter were to reach out – the body rolls he was doing absolutely fucking sinful. He about shouted for mercy when Tony settled onto his lap – his ass grinding down onto the bulge Peter was having a hard time hiding – the friction light. That friction didn’t last long and Tony was stepping back, his hands moving to undo the button and zipper on his pants – the jeans tumbled down his legs shamelessly a second later. The briefs Tony was wearing weren’t much different than the ones he’d been moving around on-stage in. Where the others were black, these were maroon and highlighted Tony’s cock perfectly.

The microscopic attention to detail Peter paid to Tony’s dance at MJ’s party told him that this bulge was sizably different than what he’d seen before. Peter’s eyes were drawn to it, the press of Tony’s cock against the fabric now obvious the closer the man got to him. Strong hands were grabbing at his arms, Tony placing them on his own hips – he was thrusting his hips within inches of Peter’s face. Peter’s fingers squeezed the bare skin tightly, his arms wanting nothing more than to pull him in, pull him to his mouth or at least close enough to press his nose to the bulge there and take a long, deep breath. Tony didn’t stick around long enough for him to do any of those things, though – the nimble limbs were turning and suddenly Peter had a close-up view of the perfect bubble of Tony’s ass. The briefs barely covered the edges of the man’s cheeks and every swing of his hips made the muscle clench and sway ever so slightly. Without much thought, Peter let his hands grab at the globes, the warmth of the skin there another catalyst to the tight press of his cock pressed against the zipper of his jeans.

As quickly as the view was there, Tony was pulling away. The song was over, and the music changed to something Peter didn’t recognize. There wasn’t much blood anywhere near his brain, anyway. He did register demanding fingers pulling at the bottom of his shirt, his hands flew up and made the drag of it off his body a little easier for the man. When there was nothing left to block the sweet press of skin on skin, Peter pushed himself off the bed and captured Tony’s lips in a kiss. His hands settled low on the man’s hips, his greedy fingers moving to the firm groove of Tony’s ass cheeks – the fabric of the briefs much softer than he figured it would be. Tony’s hands were demanding on his face, the man tilted his head until the kiss was perfect – Peter felt himself get lost in the sensation of smooth firmness under his hands and warm wet pressed against his lips. The press of Tony’s erection against his own brought him back to the surface, his need for oxygen suddenly forcing him to break the kiss.

“You are the sexiest person I’ve ever seen in my life. I’m glad that was my first ever lap dance. Nothing will ever compare. I think you should fuck me. Does that sound okay?” Peter found himself feeling bold – the charge of arousal in the room something that was easy to be brought under by, something that he willingly let take ahold of him.

----

‘Does that sound okay?’ That simple phrase shouldn’t have sounded so good to Tony, but he couldn’t deny how fast the rush of heat traveled over him. His back broke out into a sweat, his skin suddenly tender from the sensitivity of arousal. “Better than,” Tony finally managed to get out, his hands moving down the length of Peter’s chest – his pecks defined, yet slim, the nipples there insanely responsive to the touch. He spent a little bit of time getting acquainted with the side of Peter’s neck and the sweeping sensation of goose flesh breaking out over the other man’s skin. It felt like it was moving across his own skin, though when he checked – there was only sweat and smoothness.

His cock gave a reminding pulse and he forced himself to get back on task. Greedy fingers played with the button and zipper of Peter’s pants, the short, impatient thrusts against his hand too good to just give into the want they were both feeling. He could feel Peter’s impatience – the feeling tangible in both the way he pulled him in for a messy kiss and the subtle pulse of the cock he’d been palming. His own impatience gave way, his fingers deftly getting the button done and the zipper down – Tony’s hand shamelessly slipping under the waistband of Peter’s underwear and gripping the man’s hardness without warning.

“Shit,” Peter gasped, the word hot against Tony’s lips. His lungs were grateful for the break in the kiss and for a couple moments, Tony let himself trace and touch all Peter had to offer. The younger man was long, the length probably an inch longer than Tony himself. The girth was a little on the thin side – but the head made up for it. It was thick and dribbled precum beautifully – his fingers swirling in it every couple of strokes. “You need to get my pants off, please. I want you to touch me – fucking everywhere,” Peter gasped, the man so suddenly mobile – it scared the shit out of Tony.

He pulled his hand free of the other’s pants and watched with fascination as he stepped out of them – both boxer briefs and jeans were kicked aside in one movement. Tony took a second to enjoy the look of Peter completely naked. He was on the slim side everywhere on his body, though there was great muscle definition there, too. There was so much youth still clinging to the man, yet there were so many reminders that the person in front of him was all man – all man and about to be all his.

Tony followed suit and joined the other man in nudity. He let Peter looked his fill in the time it took to close the space between them (which, admittedly wasn’t very long.) Their lips met in a fierce kiss before Tony was pushing Peter onto the mattress. Brown eyes watched the younger man scoot up the sheets until his head was in the nest of pillows at the head of the bed. His legs were slung open wide and a hand was already around his length – those long, pale fingers wrapped around Peter’s hard-on lightly. Licking his lips, Tony mimicked that action, his hand following the pace the young man set. He stood at the end of the bed and let Peter watch him, his moans and sighs in conjunction with the speed up and slowdown of Tony’s hand over his cock. The sweat on his back was starting to bead and trail down the dimple of his spine – his forehead joining the club, the collection of it there making his hair wet and sticky to his forehead. When temptation became too much, Tony got onto the bed and slapped Peter’s hand away – his mouth replacing the fingers without a second thought.

He hollowed his cheeks and started a pretty ruthless pace right from the get-go – he wanted to see what Peter Parker looked like on the edge – and then he wanted to take him there with his fingers and cock all over again. One of his hands ran up the middle of Peter’s stomach, his fingers playing over the slight ripple of abs with every aborted thrust the other man tried not to make. The other hand moved under the heaviness of Peter’s length and tangled in the light dusting of hair just behind his ball sac. Deep throating him, Tony wasn’t surprised when fingers were tangled in his hair, the pressure of them on the pleasurable side of pain. Tony eased up and let the cum spill down his throat – the high pitched “Tony!” coming from the other sending another jolt of uncontrollable heat to the tip of his cock.

There wasn’t much protest when Tony finally settled the entirety of his weight against Peter’s chest – his cock settling against the man’s stomach. And though he’d just found release, Tony could feel Peter’s cock throb when he brushed against it. Peter’s thighs settled around his hips, keeping him in one spot for the time being. Tony leaned forward and pressed his lips against Peter’s – his tongue diving in without much preamble, the man eager to share the taste of release fresh on his tongue. The moan he heard was sinful, the echo of it forever engrained in the front of Tony’s memory.

There were things one just couldn’t unhear.

Peter sucked desperately on his tongue and tightened his leg against Tony’s hips – the man quickly regaining his interest in the proceedings. His thrust up against Tony was signal enough – the desperation in Tony’s body finally starting to win out. “Want you on my lap,” he mumbled, his lips pressing first against Peter’s, then against the soft skin of his chin, and finally against his neck – the length of flesh quickly one of Tony’s favorites.

It took a second or two to rearrange and grab the needed supplies, the men both laughing with the ecstasy of the moment as they moved about. With Peter across his hips, he could feel the man’s hard cock against him – his lubed-up fingers were eager to press against what he figured would be a tightly furled muscle just waiting to be relaxed. Tony didn’t waste any time teasing and pressed the tip of one of his fingers lightly against Peter’s rim. The body above him relaxed, more of his finger slipping in with every breath Peter took to calm himself down. The angle was perfect to find Peter’s prostate early on and he very quickly had a lapful of eager and moaning Peter Parker. The second finger he pressed inside did so easily, Peter’s body so on edge and welcoming of whatever Tony had to give. The scissoring motion of his finger had the man clutching at his neck, the fingers in his hair pulling at the length. “Come on. You’re just being a gratuitous shit now, Tony,” Peter murmured, his eyes so glazed over Tony wondered how much of what was coming out of his mouth he would actually remember.

There wasn’t any reason not to follow Peter’s order, though. And to be honest, he was being a little gratuitous in his pleasure. He’d been thrusting up against Peter’s left butt check while his fingers worked him open – and when he was able to focus enough, Tony let his fingers of the other hand run over the hard cock pressing against their stomachs. Slipping his fingers out, Tony rolled the condom on and poured a generous amount of lube into his hand – grasping himself just long enough to spread it around his length.

If he fucked around too much with himself, there’d be no going back. It seemed like Peter was just as eager, his big brown eyes were watching every one of Tony’s moves – his hands gripping his shoulders tightly. It didn’t take but a small little nudge and he was sliding into the tightest heat he’d ever felt. Peter’s coordinated move down onto him made his entry quick and clean – the press of his pelvis against pert ass cheeks almost as delicious as the tightness around him.

Tony kept a tight grip on Peter’s hips, the other man already starting to rise and fall on his pulsing length. He could feel Peter’s thighs flex against his own, the reminder of pure strength a straight shot to the core. A chorus of moans and loud slaps of skin were the only noises in the room for a long time – Tony letting Peter control the pace until he felt the other tightening around him. He’d increase the grip on Peter’s hips and pull him hard into his lap – Tony’s thrusts short and teasing but not enough to get there, not yet. Tony couldn’t get enough of the needy huffs Peter would pant against his lips, or the ridiculous drool of precum that seemed to leak more and more each time he brought the other so very close to the edge. The smear of it against his stomach too good to give up just yet. “You’re fucking driving me nuts, Tony. If you touch me, I’ll come apart,” Peter whispered against the skin of Tony’s chin after a particularly hard thrust against his prostate.

Moving quickly, Tony grabbed the back of Peter’s thighs and flipped their position. Tony pressed Peter into the mattress and let the last little bit of control he was clinging to snap. He lost track of everything other than hot velvet and sticky slick against his stomach. In the end, Peter dug his fingernails down the length of Tony’s back and let out a loud ‘fuck’ – his cum splashing hot and wet between their bellies. Tony turned his head and bit down into the side of Peter’s neck, his own orgasm rushing through him with a force that was so close to being way too much. He let his hips thrust through the entirety of it, Tony only stopping when the sensitivity was too much.

They maneuvered a little so Tony could pull out and dispose of the condom, the man returning to collect Peter in his arms in no time. He pressed a kiss to Peter’s neck and held him close. Soon, they’d need to roll out of bed and wipe off the sticky goodness of their coupling, but for now – both men seemed pretty content. Peter’s fingers ran along the length of Tony’s forearm, the touch bringing gooseflesh to the surface of his skin. “How do you feel about pizza?” Tony murmured after a while, his stomach grumbling, remind him of how much energy it took to strip and fuck the shit out of someone. He felt the rumble of Peter’s chest as the man chuckled, his soft lips pressing against whatever parts of Tony’s skin he could reach. “I could kill a pizza right now.”

It wasn’t conventional – how quickly they fell into bed, or how easily they seemed to fit together, but there wasn’t much about Tony that could be said to be conventional, anyway. They spent the rest of the day eating pizza out of the box, Peter sometimes getting away with stealing the pepperonis from Tony’s slices and sometimes getting caught in the act – and ending up with the pepperonis anyway. It was easy, being with Peter, and at that point in his life, Tony was looking for easy. Snuggling into the comfort of the couch, Tony let Peter lean into the circle of his arms. The older man pressed a kiss to shower wet hair and pulled him close.

“Steve and Buck are having a BBQ tomorrow. Want to come?” Tony asked softly, his nose sliding across Pete’s soft skin. “Yeah, I do.” Peter replied instantly, his body relaxing further into the warmth of Tony’s chest.

“Good – Morgan’s expecting you, anyway.”