#rhodey is that warm summer heat

[pandagirl45]

Steve: *curled up covering his face* *heaving in breaths*

Rhodey: steve... Steve?

Steve blinked back the running tears as he gripped the warm sweater. He clung to it as he buried his body into the warm pile of blankets. He wasn't ready.

He never is ready for winter. New York snow. God, first when he was nothing but a shrimp weak... and now. He couldn't breath as ice crept into his lungs. As the icy stinging water burned his eyes. As his chatter blue but the serum never letting him really rest.

The time in the ice, the arctic ocean was the a moment he never wants to experience again. All it took, all it takes is the snow laden lands to remind him how he lost so much and more. How everything he did froze and shatter in his hands.

He heaved in air as the door clicked open. He was afraid that warmest things around him would fall. Shatter into ice shards. He can't fix that. He can't fight his way to fix it. He can do a shitty PSA about it. He can't.

He can't.

He-

Steve blinked back his hazy vision seeing James Rhodes holding his face gently. Rough warm thumbs brushing away his tears. His soothing dark chocolate eyes bright from the new yoek winter lights. His lips burning comfort into steve as he let out a shuddering sob.

"You are okay," his deep sugary voice melted whatever ice that clenched at his veins, Steve clung to the fuzzy sweater, "you are okay blondie."

A wet laugh, Steve wrapped his arms around the colonel, "thank you, teddy."

Rhodes huffed, a grumble of fondness, "first tones and now you with terribly cute nicknames."

Steve let out another wet sob as he clung to the warm man. A dark thought swept by the crisp summer feeling from rhodes. The heated gunmetal pilot shielding the ice remains of his fears. For now, Steve felt warm. He felt protected as he cuddled into the blankets with rhodey, intelligent thumbs soothing Steve to sleep, "I'll be here, okay steve?"

[stonyisforever]

Seasons of Life

Steve never appreciated the seasons until Tony entered his life.

Finding himself captivated by the enchanting sight of Tony's hair gracefully dancing in the gentle, spring breeze. The warm sunlight casting its golden beams upon Tony's eyes, illuminating the mesmerizing copper hues speckled within. His cheeks flushed rosy from the heat of the day and the trek from the rental cabin.

Tony’s hand firmly clasps his own before he’s led to a tranquil spot overlooking the pond, then is guided down to settle onto the damp grass beneath the shelter of an elm tree. The water rippling and shimmering brilliantly as a family of ducks casually swim by.

“Didn’t really have a chance to prepare a proper meal,” Tony admits, subconsciously rubbing the nape of his neck. “Only managed to pack some cold pizza and a couple beers.”

A faint smile tugs at the corners of Steve’s lips at Tony’s dismal attempt towards a romantic gesture. “Sounds perfectly good to me.”

The dazzling grin he receives is well worth the meager meal.

It’s worth anything.

~*~

With summer’s arrival, they’re afforded a trip to the beach. Allowing Steve to quietly admire the rivulets of water tracing along the contours of Tony’s body. His skin sun-kissed and shiny from poorly applied sunscreen. The undersized, gold and red speedo clearly chosen to scandalize Rhodey—who’s pointedly moved down shore with Pepper—rather than for the sake of fashion sense.

“I chased Jaws away,” Tony teases as he trudges out of the water. “It’s safe to come in now.”

“Oh, really?” Steve automatically plays along, enjoying the banter they’ve mastered over the years. “Did Iron man show up when I wasn’t looking?”

Feigning offense, Tony theatrically presses his hand to his chest. “Why, Cap, are you insinuating I’m weak and helpless?”

“Of course not,” Steve deadpans. “After such an impressive display of strength, surely carrying a frightened, super soldier without the armor would be a piece of cake for you. Wouldn’t it, Shellhead?”

A spark of challenge fleets across Tony’s face, causing Steve to raise his brows expectantly. “Exactly right.” Tony puffs out his chest in show of his determination. “Allow me to demonstrate.”

Later that night, Tony insists to the team the terrible aches from pulled muscles in his arms are due to jellyfish stings. And by morning, Steve ensures the comical sketch of jellyfish lifting dumbbells is placed strategically on the pillow beside Tony’s head.

~*~

Autumn brings an array of color and cooler temperatures. Enticing them to take a walk through the park to admire the changing colors. Leaves crunching underfoot as they stroll along, observing other couples intertwined and lost in their own worlds.

Steve appreciates Tony’s decision to wear the turtleneck sweater he gifted him, but remains concerned by strange discolored veins crawling up Tony’s skin towards his ear.

“Have you ever wondered if this is the only life we get?” Tony asks, apropos nothing, and stops to intently observe the leaves fluttering down.

There’s something oddly melancholy about his demeanor, but Steve’s long since embraced Tony’s vacillating moods.

“Sometimes,” he admits, shifting uncomfortably. “But, who knows?”

Tony swallows, the muscles of his throat visibly straining to do so. “What if we never see each other again?”

Steve blinks, momentarily taken aback by the grim concept. “Then, I guess we’ll have to appreciate it while we have the chance.”

Reaching to cup Tony’s face in his hands, Steve gently rubs a thumb over his cheekbone. Giving Tony a minute to melt into his touch before he leans in, pressing his mouth against slightly chapped lips.

Memorizing the sound of Tony’s appreciative moan as leaves skitter across the ground.

~*~

Tony stands by the window, enthralled by the winter storm and seemingly lost in thought as he sips absently at his hot cocoa.

Steve sets his respective mug onto the side table and moves to join Tony, encircling his shoulders with his arms.

“Are you all right?” Steve wonders against the shell of his ear.

“Always,” Tony responds as if on autopilot, but sinks back against him, letting Steve support his weight.

“Then, what’s on your mind?” Steve rephrases.

“Just wondering if Santa received my letter.”

Steve hums in response. Not exactly liking the dismissive tone, but knowing better than to press.

“What make you think you’re on the nice list this year?” Steve strives to lighten the mood, and smirks at Tony’s scoff.

“I’m always on the nice list,” Tony retorts. Then, corrects himself, “Except for that one time.”

Steve chuckles fondly, ducking down to kiss along the curve of Tony’s neck. Feeling the raised veins against his lips.

“What did you ask for?”

He catches the sharp intake of breath before Tony stiffens.

“Tony?” he starts, quelling the rising panic.

“More time…,” Tony answered at length, voice scarcely audible, “with you.”

Without elaboration, Tony turns in Steve’s embrace, and kisses him with a force Steve hasn’t experienced. Just shy of painful as Tony’s tongue dominates his mouth.

They make love passionately—desperately. The feel of Tony beneath him, his legs wrapped around Steve’s hips, delicious and heavenly.

“I love you,” Tony says breathlessly into Steve’s ear for the first time.

Steve can’t shake the feeling it might also be the last.

~*~

Grey.

The world is encompassed by it.

No more sunshine.

No color.

No warmth.

The offerings at Tony’s grave are the only indication of passing time. Flowers withering and dying to be replaced by a fresh batch. The pictures in the frames fading, steadily erasing Tony’s smile.

Steve never hated the seasons until Tony exited his life.

------------------------ For @stevetonygames 2023 Team Past (screen name: ResilientSystem||Theyumenoinu) Square "Seasons"

[ceealaina]

Title: There’s Nowhere on Earth That I’d Rather Be Ship: IronHusbands Rating: Teen Major Tags: Autumn, Friends to Lovers, Domestic Fluff, Fluff and Humour Card Number: 5023 (Tony Stark Bingo) 3002 (IronHusbands Bingo) Square: R1 - Flight (Tony Stark Bingo) I1 - Autumn (IronHusbands Bingo) Link: AO3 Summary: Tony's absolute favourite time of year is fall. Rhodey might need a little more persuasion do really appreciate the beauty of the season, but if there's one thing Tony's good at, it's persuasion.  Word Count: 4552

Tony woke slowly, burrowing deeper into his blankets as he did. The apartment he and Rhodey shared tended to run fiery-pits-of-hell hot, so he’d left his window cracked open overnight. But now his bedroom was cool in a way that made him feel all snuggly and cozy, even as he pressed his nose into his sheets to hide it from the chill. It felt like… Fall. 

Tony’s eyes popped open, and he hopped out of bed, yelping as his toes hit the cold plank flooring. He ran over to the window and opened it wide enough to lean his whole upper body out (something Rhodey was always yelling at him for, convinced he’d fall out the fifth story window and break his neck) and breathe in deep. It was already late morning, the sky bright and clear, but for the first time in weeks there was no trace of heavy, oppressive humidity in the air. The heat of summer had been lingering on and on and on through September, but now the air was crisp and fresh. He knew it was his imagination, but Tony could even smell apples. 

Humming happily to himself, he pulled his head back inside and then skidded over to his dresser, rifling through the drawers until he found his favourite pair of cold-weather socks, the thick wool ones that Jarvis had knitted for him a couple Chrismasses ago in a gaudy splash of all Tony’s favourite colours. Another drawer, and he was pulling out the heavy, too-big cream-coloured Fisherman’s sweater he loved. He didn’t bother with pants at all, still wearing the boxers he’d been sleeping in. He looked ridiculous and he was going to bask in every second of it. 

Dancing into the kitchen, Tony leaned down and crawled halfway under the sink, shoving aside pots and pans in search of the enormous bag of apples he’d stowed there a few days ago, saving them for just this occasion. Technically he had class this morning, but the coursework was stuff he could have completed when he was twelve, and everyone knew that the first day of fall weather should really be a federal holiday anyway. Turning on the oven, he got to work. 

***

Fridays were currently Rhodey’s least favourite day of the week. Whatever genius had decided that his mandatory class would only be offered at 8:30 in the morning deserved a special place in hell, as far as he was concerned. Add to that the rest of his classes, office hours for the class he was TA-ing, and lacrosse practice, and although they were barely a month into the semester, Fridays had already turned into a never-ending nightmare day. 

This Friday seemed especially bad. He hadn’t slept well the night before, already exhausted when his alarm went off, and he hadn’t realized how cold it was until he’d stepped out of the building. He hadn’t been dressed nearly warm enough for the day, but the thought of going back up five flights of stairs to their apartment felt like too much, so he’d headed out, figuring he’d warm up on the walk. 

That had been a mistake. While the walk to campus was short, by the time he got there he was so chilled that he was seriously considering using up one of his two allowed absences for the semester to go back home and crawl back into his warm bed. He was still debating the trek back home when the prof showed up, and then it seemed too embarrassing to say he was leaving because he was cold, so he decided to just stick it out. 

The day seemed to match Rhodey’s mood. The weather was cloudy and drizzly, and it felt like everybody he interacted with was doing their very best to annoy him. By the time his classes and office hours were over, he was cranky and irritable and still so fucking cold. He only had a very short window to grab food, and he was ready to punch something when he spotted Mike-from-Lacrosse, waving his arms at him from across the student centre. Bracing himself for another shitty addition to his shitty day -- and also for missing his crucial food window -- Rhodey headed over. 

“Hey bro.” Mike grinned at him. “Coach told me to tell you that practice is cancelled tonight. Something about the field being double booked or something.” He shrugged, unconcerned. “Whatever. We’ve got the night off anyway.” 

Rhodey blinked down at him, feeling weirdly like he might start crying, or maybe hug Mike or something. “Oh.” He cleared his throat and then forced a smile when he realized that Mike was giving him a strange look. “Cool, great. Thanks for letting me know!” He turned away quickly, waving a hand over his shoulder as he headed for the door, irrationally worried that if he lingered too long practice would somehow be un-cancelled. 

The walk home was even colder than the walk there, despite the late afternoon sunshine, and he was shivering by the time he made it into the lobby, goose pimples popping up on his bare arms. He trudged his way up the stairs and down the hall, fumbling with the keys to their door, and then couldn’t help his whine when he pushed it open and was immediately met with a draft of cold air, especially jarring after the brief relief of the warmer hallway. 

“Tony?” he called, dropping his bag by the door and heading inside, flat-out pouting when he spotted all their windows wide open. “Tones? You home?” He started pushing them shut. “Why the fuck are the windows open?” 

“Kitchen!” Tony hollered back, not explaining anything, and Rhodey took a deep breath, counting to ten, before making his way down the hall. 

Despite how irritated he was, he couldn’t help a soft huff of laughter when he spotted Tony. He was bent over their finicky oven, boxer-clad ass bopping around as he rocked his hips to some song that only he could hear. Leaning against the doorframe, Rhodey sighed. 

“What are you doing, man?” 

Tony straightened at the sound of his voice, and turned to face him. His hands were covered with oven mitts, a casserole dish balanced between them and he beamed at the sight of Rhodey, but before he couldn’t open his mouth to explain, Rhodey was frowning. 

“Is that my sweater?” 

Tony’s lips curled into a pout as he quickly set the dish on the countertop, hugging himself protectively and burying his nose in the sleeve of one arm. “No?” 

“The sweater my grandma knitted for me?” 

“I’m pretty sure she really intended it for me,” Tony told him airily, attitude belied by the cheeky little grin playing around his lips. “She likes me better than you.” 

Rhodey rolled his eyes. “She hadn’t even met you when she knitted that,” he protested, but didn’t bother asking for the sweater back. He wasn’t going to admit it, but Tony looked kind of adorable with his boxers and sweater and socks. Rhodey’s clothes were a good look on him. “Are you going to tell me what’s going on?” he asked, shivering a little. “And why it’s so fucking cold in here?” 

Tony beamed again. “It’s fall, honeybear!” he chirped, dancing across the room and giving Rhodey a smacking kiss on the cheek, because that was what Tony did. “We’ve gotta celebrate.” He wrapped a hand around Rhodey’s forearm, starting to drag him into the room properly, and then dropped him again with a frown. “Christ, you’re freezing,” he said. “What happened to you?” 

Rhodey gave him a pointed look. “It’s fall,” he said, echoing Tony’s words, if not his tone. “Some of us didn’t have the luxury of hanging around home all day.” He narrowed his eyes. “Didn’t you have class this morning?” 

“Uhhh…” Tony gave him a disarming grin. “It’s fall!” he declared again. “Everyone knows the first day of fall weather should be a holiday.” 

Rhodey blinked at him and then rubbed at his forehead. “No, Tones,” he told him. “No, they really don’t.” 

Tony shrugged, unconcerned, and moved over to fiddle with the oven again. “Well, they should,” he decided. “They’re missing out.” 

“Sure, Tones.” Rhodey had long ago given up on trying to understand Tony’s quirks. “So you decided to celebrate by freezing out the apartment?” 

Tony shot him a withering look over his shoulder, heaving a long, put upon sigh. “God, you’re a sourpatch today, huh? I celebrated by baking. The windows are open because I wanted to enjoy the fall air.” He came back over to give Rhodey a shove back toward the doorway. “Go away, you’re killing the vibe.” 

He looked put out, but there was a gleam in his eye that had Rhodey grinning. “Sorry,” he started, but Tony waved him off.

“Nope, too late, you’re cranky, and I won’t have it. We need a do-over. So go, take a hot shower, put on some warm clothes, take a nap, whatever you need to do to get that stick out of your ass. And then we’ll start again.” Tony winked at him, and Rhodey shivered for reasons that had nothing to do with being cold. “Go!” he insisted, brandishing a tea towel threateningly, and Rhodey hurried down the hall.

***

One hot shower later, Rhodey felt infinitely better. He’d grabbed his own favourite sweatshirt from his bedroom, along with a pair of well-worn-but-still-warm sweatpants, and that helped a lot. It had started to rain while he was using up all the hot water, heavy drops against the window that just sounded cold, and he couldn’t help being even more relieved that his practice had been cancelled. The thought of being out there in the rain was miserable, and left their apartment feeling even more comfortable than usual. 

There was a faint crash from the living room and Rhodey grinned to himself as he followed the sound, preparing himself for whatever nonsense Tony had gotten up to this time. The man in question was bent over the couch and he whirled around at the sound of Rhodey’s arrival, pillow held against his chest and hair askew. He offered Rhodey a crooked grin before tossing the pillow down and stepping aside so Rhodey could see the full extent of his work. 

“Welcome to the party,” he teased, waving his arms up and down in a poor rendition of a game show hostess. 

The windows were closed now and their radiators were clicking as heat pushed its way through, leaving the room warm and heavy with the scent of hot dust. Tony had apparently raided both their bedrooms while Rhodey was in the shower, and the couch was now transformed into some kind of nest, piled up with every blanket and pillow that they owned. 

Rhodey shook his head, grinning. “You’re such a dweeb,” he grumbled, although he had to admit that it looked ridiculously inviting. You’re not cool like, at all.” 

Tony just shrugged, not concerned in the slightest, and immediately bounced onto the couch, rolling himself up in one of the blankets. “You love it,” he told him. “Tell me you don’t want a piece of this.” 

Rhodey knew he meant the couch, and not Tony himself, but he’d be a liar if he tried to pretend like the answer to both wasn’t, ‘yes.’ He shrugged instead of admitting that though, flopping down on the couch and kicking his feet up on the coffee table that Tony’s mother had gifted them after she found out they were just using a pile of textbooks and old monitors. Tony tossed a blanket his way, and Rhodey was just settling into that deep-seated comfort that could only come after spending the day truly miserable when Tony suddenly popped up again. 

“I almost forgot the best part!” he hollered, already disappearing into the kitchen. There was some more crashing and rattling and then he was returning with the aforementioned casserole dish, two forks and a pair of steaming mugs precariously balanced on top. “Apple crisp and apple cider!” he declared, looking extremely pleased with himself before he started to wince. “Ow, okay, that’s hot. Help!” 

Rhodey leaned forward quickly, snatching the mugs so Tony could set the dish down with a heavy clunk. “Is this our dinner?” he asked, laughing at Tony’s withering look. 

“Of course not. I ordered us pizza, Rhodes, I’m not a monster. I can bake, but you know I can’t cook.” 

“Because that makes sense.”

“It does make sense! Baking is just chemistry, and you know I love chemistry.” This was said with a cheesy wink and a weird body undulation that had Rhodey snorting into his mug of cider. “Cooking is like magic or some shit, I have no idea.” 

Rhodey just sighed and shook his head. “You’re such a dweeb.” 

Far from looking offended, Tony just waggled his eyebrows and winked, like Rhodey had paid him some compliment. “Obviously.” 

Tony hadn’t bothered with plates, and the crisp smelled amazing, so Rhodey grabbed a fork and dug in. It tasted even better than it smelled, and he cursed softly under his breath as the tart flavour of the apples burst across his tongue. 

“Fuck man,” he mumbled around a low moan, not caring that his mouth was still mostly full. “This tastes amazing.”

Tony gave him a sweet, pleased grin before grabbing his own fork, leaning across the nest of blankets to steal his own bite from the dish that Rhodey was hoarding in his lap. “Hmm,” he said, savouring the piece in his mouth a moment before swallowing. “I don’t know, it maybe needs a bit more nutmeg.” 

“Shut up, man.” Rhodey kicked out with his leg, half getting tangled in the blankets and half catching Tony in the thigh, making him giggle. “It’s delicious and you know it.” That got him another grin, shyer this time. Tony ducked his head a little, peering at Rhodey from under his eyelashes and the soft look made Rhodey’s heart flutter. 

“Yeah, it’s pretty good,” he finally admitted before his smile turned big and cheesy again. “But wait until you taste my apple pie!” 

Between the two of them they polished off the entire crisp in about twenty minutes. His cider was still steaming on the table beside him, but Rhodey couldn’t help pulling one of the blankets up to his chest, snuggling back against the cushions and letting the warmth leech the last of the cold from his body. 

He hadn’t even realized he was dozing off until the loud jangle of the phone jolted him awake, making him startle as he tried to remember where he was. 

“Shit, shit, sorry,” Tony was saying, scrambling beside him to grab the phone and buzz the delivery guy in. “I was going to meet him downstairs, but I lost track of time.” He gave Rhodey a smile, half apologetic and half something else that Rhodey couldn’t quite place. “Go back to sleep, I’ll be back in a minute.” 

He was gone before Rhodey could say anything else, and he shrugged at the empty room. He thought about getting up to grab plates or soda or beer or something from the kitchen, but he couldn’t quite bring himself to move, and he was still lying on the sofa thinking about it when Tony returned a few minutes later, propping open the door with his foot as he balanced a steaming-hot extra-large pizza in his arms. 

“Oh fuck man,” Rhodey groaned, leaning back blissfully against the cushions instead of making any move to help Tony. “I think I love you.” 

“Yeah, you do,” Tony told him without a hint of shame. “I’m the best sugar daddy you’ll ever have.” He dumped the pizza box on the coffee table, shoving the empty casserole dish haphazardly to the side, and then headed over to the TV. The pizza was still way too hot to eat, but Rhodey couldn’t help grabbing a slice anyway, cursing as it burnt his fingertips and tongue and watching with half interest as Tony fiddled with the VCR. Once the screen loaded he hopped to his feet, doing some weird rendition of jazz hands. “Ghostbusters!” he crowed. “Nah nah nah nah nah nah.” 

“Such a nerd,” Rhodey teased, laughing as Tony scrambled back onto the couch beside him, burrowing under the blankets and making grabby hands for the pizza box. 

Rhodey lasted three slices of pizza and fifteen minutes of the movie before he was dozing again, head rolling on the cushions. He didn’t even realize he’d tipped over into Tony until the other man was shifting underneath him, pushing Rhodey into semi-wakefulness. 

“Shit,” he muttered, blinking blearily. “Sorry, man.” He didn’t make any real move to get up, Tony nice and warm beneath him. 

“No, you’re good,” Tony told him. “My leg was just asleep but I’m good now.” He combed his fingers over the back of Rhodey’s head, making him melt a little more. “Get some sleep, Boo Boo.”

There was something about the way he said it that roused Rhodey a little further, lifting his head enough to eye him suspiciously. “Why…?” 

Tony positively beamed at him. “Because tomorrow we go to the farmer’s market!” 

***

Rhodey had to admit that, dressed appropriately in a sweater and a leather jacket, and after getting a good night’s sleep (first on Tony’s shoulder and then in his own, extremely comfortable bed), the farmer’s market was kind of nice. He’d never actually been there before, or gone on the bus ride this far out of town, but it was all cozy and quaint. There was the usual array of fruits and vegetables, and the biggest assortment of pumpkins he’d every seen. There were also stalls selling artisanal cheeses, and ciders, and fancy honeys, and a whole lot of other stuff that should have been ridiculous -- was ridiculous -- but in a way that was still kind of nice. 

Of course probably a good 90% of that was just Tony. He looked so happy, bouncing around from stall to stall, delighting in all the offerings, and it was inevitable that his happiness would rub off on Rhodey. He hadn’t expected the farmer’s market to be one of Tony’s normal haunts, but apparently he was a regular here, greeting half the stall owners by name and having an in-depth conversation with the cider guy about some ideas he’d had for creating a peach-apple cider. 

“Okay,” Rhodey said when they’d made their way to the end of the stalls, and Tony had a bunch of things being packed up for him to pick up on their way back through. “Who are you, and what have you done with my best friend?” 

Tony rolled his eyes. “Shut up,” he grumbled, although he didn’t really look upset. “I just really like the fall, okay?” He shrugged again, a hint of self-consciousness slipping into the movement. “I don’t know, when I was a kid Dad usually had a fall business trip. He’d take Mom, and I was never invited, but I liked it that way. It would just be me and Jarvis and Ana for a couple weeks, and we’d bake pies, and go for hikes upstate, or if it rained we’d sit in the library and Jarvis would read Lord of the Rings outloud, and we’d stay up late watching movies, and nobody yelled at me for jumping into leaf piles. We felt like a real family.” He cleared his throat, apparently having shared more than he intended, and then shot Rhodey a blinding, slightly goofy grin. “Hey, there’s a corn maze! Wanna go through?” 

Rhodey waited until they were deep in the throes of the maze, nobody else around, before bumping his shoulder against Tony’s. “Hey, I’m sorry for giving you a hard time.” 

Tony snorted, clearly not offended in the slightest. “I’m not that soft, Rhodes. You didn’t offend me. The fact that you can’t appreciate what a perfect season this is is your own problem.” 

“Hey, no, I”m serious,” Rhodey insisted, even though it was clear that Tony was too. “I like that you like fall so much. Enthusiasm is a good look on you.” 

Tony snorted again, ducking his head a little to peek up at Rhodey from under his eyelashes. “Yeah?” 

“Yeah! And I’m glad you had those good memories growing up. That all sounds really nice. And uh…” Rhodey cleared his throat and fiddled with his fingers, suddenly feeling like he was revealing too much about himself. Tony was looking at him curiously though, and Rhodey decided ‘fuck it,’ drawing in a deep breath. “And I’m glad you want to share some of that with me. That you… Care about me enough to want to recreate it. With me.” 

He felt squirmy and awkward, couldn’t make himself meet Tony’s eyes, but when the silence drew on too long he finally forced himself to look back up from the ground, finding Tony staring back at him with an expression he couldn’t place. 

It went on for long enough that Rhodey was racking his mind for something, anything to say just to break the silence when Tony made a sudden jerking movement and then jolted forward, pressing his lips against Rhodey’s. It was awkward at first, unexpected, their lips just kind of smooshed together, Tony’s hands hovering awkwardly around Rhodey’s waist, not quite touching, Rhodey’s own arms hanging limply by his side. Then he got with the program, curling his hands around Tony’s sharp hips and kissing him back properly. Tony melted into him at the motion, meeting Rhodey’s kiss and tightening his grip around his waist with perfect pressure. 

When he felt like he might pass out if he didn’t take a breath Rhodey finally pulled back, although it was barely far enough for an inhale, lips still brushing together. “Tones,” he breathed, uncertain but thrilled at what this meant for them. 

Or at least, that’s what the name was supposed to reflect. Maybe his tone was off, more uncertain than thrilled, because a beat later Tony’s hands were gone, leaving Rhodey feeling shivery in the cool October air, and then he was stepping back entirely. 

“Fuck,” he whispered, eyes wide and horrified and a little humiliated. “I’m so sorry.” And then he was turning on his heel, disappearing down the path before Rhodey could say a word. 

Rhodey stood there for way too long, wondering if that had really just happened. And then he suddenly snapped to attention because he was a fucking idiot, wondering what had led Tony to kiss him when Tony had kissed him and now he was gone. 

He got lost no less than seven times on his way out, naturally. And Tony, with his genius brain, had probably had the entire maze mapped out the second they stepped inside, or had subconsciously been calculating the statistical possibilities of each turn being the way out. Regardless, by the time Rhodey finally made it back to the parking lot, Tony was long gone. 

It was getting dark by the time he got home, the late afternoon sunshine giving way to a cold drizzle. Rhodey had briefly considered stopping by the MIT labs first, in case Tony was hiding out there, but he was tired and he was hungry and he still had no idea what he was actually going to say to Tony (what if it was actually Tony who regretted the kiss?), so he’d gone home. 

Surprisingly, the apartment was all lit up when he got there, the heat turned up, and Rhodey could hear pots banging in the kitchen. He followed the sound and then paused in the doorway when he found Tony once more leaning over the oven. He seemed to know Rhodey was there, unnaturally still, and there was a beat before he straightened and turned to look at him, expression somewhere between sheepish, hopeful, and terrified. 

“I, um… I made muffins. Apple pumpkin. They’re in the oven now.” 

And there were so many things that Rhodey had to say to Tony, so many things that he wanted to tell him, all tangled up in his brain, but none of them came out. All he could manage to do was stride across the room and grab hold of Tony’s hips, pulling him in for another kiss. 

Tony sank into it immediately, hands fisting in Rhodey’s t-shirt, and it was several long moments before they pulled apart again. Tony blinked up at him, eyes dark and wide and hopeful again. “Yeah?” he asked, tongue flicking against his lower lip and nearly distracting Rhodey. 

“Yeah,” he told him, grinning back. “Definitely yeah.” 

“I thought…” 

“I know what you thought,” Rhodey said, not needing him to explain. “I don’t know if you know this, but for a genius you’re kind of an idiot.” 

“Wow,” Tony drawled, positively beaming now. “Is that anyway to talk to your…” He stumbled a bit. “Guy you’re making out with?” 

“Guy you’re making out with?” Rhodey repeated. He stroked his thumb over Tony’s hipbone through the denim of his jeans. “Good god, man. We’ve been living together for years now. I think we can skip straight to the boyfriends part.” He felt his own flicker of nervousness, low in his belly. “You know, if you want.” 

“Yeah,” Tony told him, laughing like he couldn’t help himself. “Yeah, I definitely want.” 

Rhodey leaned in to kiss him again but was interrupted by the oven timer going off. He had to make do with the quick peck that Tony gave him before he whirled around to take the muffins out, bending forward and giving Rhodey the chance to ogle his ass instead. 

“Hey,” he said. “I like your muffins.” 

Tony glanced over his shoulder to give him a smile, then saw where his gaze had landed and snorted instead. “Really?” he asked, but he couldn’t stop his lips from curling up in a smile. “There’s something wrong with you.” He turned back to the muffins, and Rhodey didn’t miss the little hip wiggle he gave, drawing attention right back to his ass. 

When he finished setting them out to cool he turned back to Rhodey, stepping in close until they were almost chest to chest. “Hey, so, I’ve got an idea,” he told him. “It’s raining. You wanna open all the windows, grab a bunch of blankets and watch a movie?” 

“Are you bringing the muffins?” Rhodey asked, reaching down to squeeze Tony’s ass. Tony burst out laughing, burying his face against Rhodey’s chest, which was really nice. 

“Yeah,” he told him when he could speak again. “Yeah, I’ll bring the muffins.” 

“Well in that case, I’m all in.” 

Rhodey left to grab the blankets from their bedrooms, and when he came back Tony had the lights low, the windows open, and a plate of muffins sitting on the coffee table. 

“Hey,” Rhodey said, coming up behind him and rubbing a hand over his spine, making Tony shiver. “You wanna read Lord of the Rings instead?” 

He’d meant it as a genuine offer, but when Tony turned around, hands on his hips, he looked incredibly put out. “Seriously? You can’t make out with me if you’re reading, dumbass.” 

And well, he had a point. Rhodey shrugged, conceding. “Movies it is!”

[visionsofus]

Prompt for the mixtape: Wanda and Vision training together at the compound... and by training we all know we mean flirting

hi! thank you for this! I just feel like any time Wanda and Vis train it always dissolves into flirting and messing about (even if they're super serious for missions). I felt like writing a little capture the flag scenario, it's not long but I hope it's fun to read!

Track #27: Power - Isak Danielson

| read on AO3 here | mixtape playlist | send me an ask with your song/prompt request |

Capture the flag with the Avengers was always going to be a little different than your average summer camp game. It's made worse by the fact that Wanda and Vision can't seem to keep their hands off of each other...

It was the middle of the week for the Avengers and that apparently meant a friendly game of capture the flag.

It was for training, supposedly, but Wanda was pretty sure it was just to make sure they didn’t go stir crazy during their time off. Capture the flag was a less-destructive option compared with some of the other extracurriculars her teammates had tried to pursue during their holiday.

The time off was a new initiative. For 2 weeks out of every six months they were required to take time off and recuperate. The new rule was a result of a psychological evaluation that had been conducted two months earlier, finding that everyone was under an exorbitant amount of stress. It had been decided that in order for everyone to look after themselves properly there needed to be enforced holiday time.

As Wanda trod through the grass, her training boots softening the blow of her stomping, she couldn’t help thinking of the warm bed that she had been dragged from. Time off was supposed to mean lots of risk and relaxation, right?

Apparently not for a team of stressed-out superheroes with nothing to do.

The rest of the team had assembled on the back lawn facing the mass of woods that backed onto the compound’s south side. It was the view that Wanda saw from her bedroom, which was where she was supposed to be.

She shook her head no use complaining, she’d never live it down if she didn’t participate. Plus, she was a bit excited at the opportunity of hitting something that wasn’t going to try and kill her in return. Hopefully. She had finished the last of Sam’s peanut butter the previous evening so maybe her life was in a little bit of danger.

“Hurry up!” Natasha called from the circle she had assembled for their team, comprised of Steve, herself and a reluctant Clint who was still lacing up his boots and looked as if he too had been dragged from slumber. “I picked you for our team.”

Wanda surveyed their opponents – Tony, Rhodey, Sam and Vision. She grinned, her typical competitive spirit sparking at that. The last time they’d done a training exercise like this she and Vision had been on the same side; it would be interesting to actually try fighting him in a real time exercise. She grinned at Vision, a daring glint in her eyes and relished the way he stared, his eyes tracking up her body. Yes, this was going to be very fun.

There was a map set out on a plastic table, indicating where their flags were and how the forest was to be divided, with the river that ran through it the midline. The two teams took a moment to strategies. It was always a pain to pick who would be the one guarding the flag because everyone was competitive enough that they wanted to be part of the action. Thankfully, Clint volunteered, and Wanda was left to lead their attack, with Steve and Nat set on being the decoys.

“Usual rules, first person to get the opposing team’s flag wins, only one person guarding the flag at a time and please try not to destroy the forest?” Steve said pulling out one blue flag and one yellow flag, handing the latter to Sam.

Everyone made noises of agreement, but they were already shifting up to the starting line, bodies tensed and muscles tight, ready to launch themselves into the trees.

All it took was the clap of a starting gun and they jumped into motion. Each team set off in opposite directions while Vision disappeared in a blink. Wanda knew he would be at their flag, the last line of defence. A wise choice and one that would make her job all the more fun.

Wanda wasn’t as fast, but she was light on her feet and easily snuck through into the yellow team’s territory with no one noticing. It appeared Steve and Nat were taking their distraction role seriously.

Her powers made it easy to move about in confined spaces and so she darted between the branches of towering trees, using her powers to push herself off of thick boughs. Her boots ring off branches as she used the foliage for cover. Below her there was the sound of heavy footfalls and she saw Rhodey appear, sneaking off towards their territory. A few moments later Nat appeared hot on his toes, silent as ever. She glanced up at Wanda and grinned. Her thumbs up let Wanda know that the coast was clear.

Reinvigorated, Wanda launched herself over roots and onto the rough forest floor, her feet bounding. As her legs burned, she felt Vision. Technically it might have been cheating in some ways – but Steve didn’t specify if there were any restrictions on her power and based on the sound of explosions at her back no one else was holding back. Vision was nearby, she could feel like calling to like.

Nevermind that Wanda had warned Vision about how open he let his mind be, making it easy for anyone like her to slip inside. He was blasting his presence loud and clear for her.

Wanda thundered to a stop next to the wide river whose waters filled the lake near the compound. It rushes, the swell strong from the previous week’s rain and on the other side of the misting water was Vision. His arms were set confidently on his hips and behind him she caught the yellow glimmer of his flag tied around a tree branch.

Vision shrugged casually when he saw her, but Wanda didn’t let his nonchalance hold her back. She launched herself across the rushing water, her powers propelling her forcefully into the air. She barely made it halfway across, Vision reached her too quickly.

They collided remarkably softly, and Wanda smirked at how Vision’s hand reached around her waist to steady her. In a moment she was returned to the banks and Vision was where he was moments earlier. Damn super speed. She thought. Wanda can still feel the warmth of his bare hand on her back. Damn feelings.

“That’s not fair!” She called across the water. As she spoke, she darted to the left and Vision easily mirrored her movement, ready to stop her.

“It’s all part of the game Wanda, darling,” Vision teased. Wanda’s eyes narrowed at the term of endearment, surely antagonising the enemy should have been against the rules.

She feinted, moving one way before spinning in the opposite direction. As predicted, Vision wasn’t fooled, and he followed her motions easily. As Wanda jumped again Vision moved to meet her in the middle, hovering easily above the water. Instead, Wanda let her power go and dropped rapidly, almost hitting the water below. She recovered just in time to push her powers off the water and land on the bank. She hit the ground with a thud, her knees stinging a little on impact but wasted no time getting up again, eyes searching for the bright yellow flag she had been put in charge of retrieving.

Vision recovered quickly and in moments he was in front of her. Wanda stepped sideways and he moved. She threw a punch and he blocked, he feinted, and she easily saw through his manoeuvre. Neither of them could get past each other’s guard but they like the challenge.

There was a reason she was rarely paired with Vision during training. For one, their powers were too well matched to hurt each other so they tended to end up damaging the space around them. And then there was the fact that it could never just be fighting with them. There always had to be teasing, flirting, names, exploiting each other’s well-known weaknesses.

Wanda backed up, relishing in how Vision strode after her, the world blurred at the edges. She tilted her head with a cocky smile and raised her hands, red balls of energy forming. One after another she hurled them in his direction, but Vision was too quick. He actually laughed as he spun and dodged her carefully aimed strikes, instead they ricocheted off the trees around them. Frustrated, Wanda changed strategies.

With great effort she sent a bubble of power and encased Vision. It only lasted a few seconds, but it was enough for Wanda to launch herself up onto the nearest tree bough. Vision struggled as he waded out of her energy field, his head snapping around to figure out where she had disappeared to.

Wanda’s breathless laugh was all it took for him to figure out where she was. His head tilted upwards at the same time Wanda launched herself from the tree, hurtling straight for his chest. She hoped that the force of her power and gravity would sending him careening to the ground, but Vision, with all his strength and infuriating grace, simply caught her around the waist. He pulled her close, forcing her to look directly into his eyes.

“Hi there,” Wanda breathed, blinking at the sudden closeness.

“Darling, you’re blushing,” Vision said softly, and heat raced up Wanda’s neck. He wasn’t playing fair, but she was more annoyed with herself for caving to such simple tactics. With one push he reluctantly let her go and her feet hit the ground.

“Maybe,” Wanda punched as Vision blocked, “if you didn’t keep calling me pet names – I wouldn’t be blushing.” In a moment she thought she had him, with her leg hooked around Vision’s knee and using her power to pull him to the ground. But Vision’s speed put him at an advantage, and he caught her off guard by grabbing her hands and holding them tightly.

“That can be fixed,” Vision whispered close to her ear, and she shivered. Despite the situation and how close their bodies were there was a hesitancy to his behaviour that made her legs feel shaky. “Is dear more suitable?” he asked, and Wanda jumped when he pressed a kiss to her cheek. “Or my love,” he whispered, his lips trailing down her jaw.

“Wanda,” he murmured against her lips, and it was question and a confession all at once. Nobody said her name like he did. So, Wanda gave in. she pulled him to a standing position, pulling his arms around her waist as she kissed him breathlessly.

“We probably should focus on the game,” Vision whispered, his hand pushing her hair back from her face so he could layer kisses across her cheek and down her neck.

“Yeah, you’re making a great argument for that...” Wanda hissed.

Frustrated, she caught his chin in her hand and relished the way he looked at her. The adoration, the longing. She’d never get sick of those eyes.

“Kiss me, please,” Wanda murmured, trailing her fingers up his neck. In moments they were pressed up against the very tree that held the flag Vision had forgotten he was supposed to be guarding.

She reached up, masking the movement by running her hand through his hair. With him sufficiently distracted she reached further, her fingers brushing against the silky fabric of the flag.

With one hand pressed against Vision’s abdomen and his mouth distracted by her kisses she was able to send the flag flying over to a waiting Natasha who was waiting casually on the riverbank.

A sharp whistle pierced the air as Nat grasped the fabric and holding it above her head in triumph.

Vision froze and broke away from Wanda, looking slightly dazed.

“That’s really not fair.”

“Nothing’s fair in love and war, darling,” Wanda grinned, biting her lip.

“Gee thanks for the help lovebird!” Rhodey called and Vision hung his head in embarrassment.

“Vision you’re supposed to protect the flag, not fraternise with the enemy!” Tony called, arriving at the riverbank with a blue flag in his grip, he’d apparently grabbed it moments after Wanda had gotten their flag to Natasha.

“I wasn’t fraternising!”

“What do you call that then?”

Vision was stumped at that, and he let Wanda lead him back to the others, his hand a constant presence at her back, their fingers woven together. The others began to recollect their favourite moments, the game well and truly over.

“I’ll get you next time,” Vision said confidently, looking down at Wanda.

“I’m holding you to that promise.” Wanda scrunched her nose up in a smile as she kissed Vision’s cheek, his arms circling her waist in a hug.

[stxphxn-strange]

truth tea (i’d love it if we made it pt. 2)

a/n: i rewrote this like 7-8 times and I’m happy with this version, so this is the story I’m sticking with! this is the continuation of collegeAU!Tony confronting and opening up about his past (sort of) after his wisdom tooth surgery. there are probably medical inaccuracies and also tw for mention of abusive and unhealthy relationships

summary: the truth was as uncomfortable as waking up in a stuffy room on a summer day. luckily, it was just as easy to open a window as it was to evade the truth

“Pepper you’re so amazing… you’re a godsend.” 

“You’ve said that, Tony. You told me that seven times while we were in the car” 

“Well I’m saying it again! I like giving my friends compliments… unless it bothers you, then I can stop. I don’t want to bother you or make you feel bad, because then I’m a bad friend.” 

“You’re not a bad friend, you’re sweet. You’re a good friend.” 

“I like being Stephen’s friend, and I like- no, I LOVE being his boyfriend. I miss him. I didn’t think you could love someone and be happy with them at the same time.”

“What do you mean?”

“I didn’t think I’d be allowed to be happy and be in love. That would be perfect, and nothing is! Nothing except Stephen, and I miss him! Sometimes I worry I’m going to drive him away, then I’ll be really sad but I’d probably deserve it. He’s the best friend—besides Rhodey!— and the best boyfriend, I’m so lucky to have him!”

“How was your surgery?” 

“Speak of the devil, it’s Rhodey! Honeybear! Sorry. My teeth are gone so my voice carries more. That’s how it works.”

“That’s news to me, but I’m glad to hear that you’re okay.”

“I feel like... I’m at probably 81%. Get it? That’s a B- since I’m minus a boyfriend right now.” 

“He’ll be back soon. You could always sleep, to technically speed up time. He might be back when you wake up.”

“Maybe… Rhodey will you stay with me while I sleep? I feel foggy, and I don’t like it… It reminds me too much of old parties, and I’m a little scared.” 

“Don’t worry Tones, I won’t leave. I won’t let anything like that happen to you again.” 

++++

Anthony fell asleep immediately, curled up between Rhodey and Christine with his head on Rhodey’s shoulder, and he was still deeply asleep when Stephen and Bucky came home. How he managed to sleep through their yelling Christine would never understand. 

Rhodey shushed them immediately, fixing Stephen with a joking look of disappointment. “You of all people should know not to wake up your boyfriend while he’s asleep. Come on dude.” 

Stephen nodded. “Yeah Bucky, why would you make me so angry that I almost wake Anthony up?” 

“You’re testing my patience today, Strange,” Bucky replied. Then he addressed the group. “Is it ethical to cheat in Monopoly? There’s a right answer.” 

“If you’re good enough at it, you won’t need to,” Rhodey said. 

“I was going to say the same thing, but I need context about why you’re arguing? Don’t tell me this is the first time you’re finding out that Stephen cheats when we play?” Christine asked. 

“I only cheated one (1) time, and it was for a good reason,” Stephen argued. 

“I’m not sure if impressing your boyfriend who’s already madly in love with you and who you’ve known forever counts as a good reason,” Bucky said with a shrug. 

“And you know what, exactly, about being in a relationship?” Stephen teased. 

“Well I was going to say that my boyfriend is visiting next weekend,” Bucky explained. “So I actually do know some things about trying to impress your partner, and cheating in Monopoly isn’t the way to rock Steve’s world.”

“Steve?” Anthony mumbled, halfway between awake and asleep. “I still feel foggy.” 

“Go back to sleep Tones, you’re alright. Bucky and Stephen are talking about something,” Rhodey said. 

Anthony forced his eyes open. “Stephen’s back?” 

Stephen sat across from his boyfriend, on the coffee table that technically no one was supposed to sit on, and smiled softly. “Hey.” 

“I missed you,” Anthony said, clumsily reaching for one of his hands. “I don’t feel right. But you’re here, and Rhodey is here, so I don’t think I need to worry. Should I worry?” 

“No, you don’t need to. You were right,” Stephen soothed. “Go back to sleep for a little bit, I’m sorry I woke you up.” 

Anthony closed his eyes again. “I thought I heard someone talking about Steve?” 

“That’s my boyfriend’s name,” Bucky explained from where he sat in the kitchen. 

“I had a Steve,” Anthony mumbled. “He didn’t like me very much, but no one does. Isn’t your boyfriend supposed to like you? Stephen, do you like me?” 

“More than that, I love you,” Stephen replied, his words reminiscent of one of Anthony’s earlier rants. 

Anthony opened his eyes again. “Will you still make me food? And you’ll tell me about your day?” 

“I will, I promise,” Stephen said. “Sleep, that way I won’t bore you with my story later.” 

“You’re never boring,” Anthony murmured, closing his eyes for the third time and falling asleep against Rhodey again.

Stephen smiled sadly as he walked into the kitchen, trying not to give in to his urge to hit pots and pans together. 

“He’s too adorable,” Bucky remarked, somewhat detached from the conversation as he scrolled through his phone. “I didn’t know he had an ex, let alone one with the same name as my boyfriend.” 

“Yeah.” Stephen just shrugged, living the role of the boyfriend who didn’t find his lover’s ex an interesting topic. 

“He sounded fond of him, I’d watch your back, Stephen,” Christine teased. 

Stephen shook his head, a bit angrily. “It’s not my business, but that’s not at all what fondness sounds like. By the way, if you want to play a vanilla game of Monopoly, go ahead. Even if I wasn’t busy, I wouldn’t want to play.” 

“Cool, I’m going to text Hope to come over,” Christine offered.

++++

Anthony woke up again not much later, a little freaked out, slightly disoriented, and far too warm. He still felt foggy and uncomfortable, and his mouth was starting to hurt. All of this was an imperfect storm of feelings and muscle memories that reminded him of unpleasant things, and the mental pain was almost worse than the physical. 

Almost. But Stephen was there, holding him closely and protectively, and that helped to scare some of the memories back into the corner they belonged in. 

“It’s loud in here,” he complained. “Too loud.” 

“Do you want to go to bed? Or just in my room? It should be much quieter,” Stephen offered. 

“I want to sleep. I don’t want to do anything else,” Anthony replied. “Except maybe watch a movie.” 

“Or a TV show?” Stephen suggested. 

“Either, I don’t care. I just don’t feel like doing anything,” Anthony said. 

Stephen heard and understood everything that Anthony said, as well as everything he didn’t say. “I know. You need your rest anyway.” 

“I might never volunteer to sleep again, write this day down for the future.” He was still too warm and nervous and uncomfortable. Anthony knew that Stephen understood what he was saying even in his short responses, but he didn’t want to talk about it. Defaulting to self-deprecating humor always felt like a safe haven. 

For some reason. 

Stephen stood up, gently gathering his boyfriend into his arms. “By the way, now that you’ve gotten your wisdom teeth out—”

“If you ask me whether or not I feel wiser, I’m going to break up with you,” Anthony teased, no heat in his words. “It’s cute how you think you’re funny.” 

“I am!” 

“You’re not.” “I’ll have you know that I’m the greatest comedian of my lifetime.” 

++++

“Now that you’ve all reminded me of how competitive I am, I have an idea,” Bucky said. 

“Oooh everyone shut up, Bucky is about to present his one (1) idea of the month!” Christine announced. 

Bucky rolled his eyes but ignored her. “As I was saying, I had a great idea! My boyfriend is visiting this weekend— yes I know I told most of you that earlier, thank you Christine— and I was thinking we could have a couples’ Uno tournament?”

“What boyfriend?” Anthony asked.

“Remember earlier when I was talking about him?” Bucky replied.

“I remember singing in Pepper’s ear in the car and waking up when Stephen got back, but nothing else,” Anthony said. “So who did I accidentally embarrass?”

“I would say only yourself, you said nice things about everyone but then you wouldn’t stop gushing about Stephen” Christine looked over at Stephen. “He doesn’t know how to shut up when it comes to you.”

“Who wouldn’t talk about me for hours? I’m perfect,” Stephen quipped.

“You cheat at Monopoly, and I haven’t forgotten that time you ate my yogurt,” Christine said.

“It wasn’t labeled, and it was an accident!” Stephen rushed to his own defense. 

“A likely story. I don’t think Ant would ever eat another person’s yogurt,” Christine argued. 

“Don’t drag me into this,” Anthony replied. “I’m shrouded in plausible deniability.” 

Bucky tapped his fork against his plate. “No offense, but can we talk about me again please?” He asked, half jokingly. 

“I think we should talk about me,” Stephen replied. 

“Absolutely not, you haven’t been interesting a day in your life,” Wong teased. “Even the textbook collecting dust at the very back of our bookshelf has more personality than you.” 

Anthony slyly passed his iced tea to Stephen. “You might need this, for that burn.” 

“I thought you loved me!” Stephen pretended to faint, steadying himself by leaning against Anthony’s side. “Anyway, go on Bucky?” 

“What do you think about my idea?” Bucky asked. 

“I feel like playing an Uno couples’ tournament is a bad idea, but in the best way,” Anthony said with a shrug. 

“It’s about the chaos! I don’t even think my boyfriend is that chaotic, but I could be proven wrong,” Bucky said.

“Sorry wait, what boyfriend?” Anthony asked. 

“I think you were asleep when I mentioned him? He goes to school in Vermont but he’s visiting for the weekend. As I understand it he has the same name as your ex?” Bucky replied. 

Anthony looked at him with genuine confusion on his face. “How do you know? I’ve never mentioned Steve to you guys.”

“You did earlier,” Christine told him gently.

“Yeah I don’t remember any of that,” Anthony replied. “Small world I guess.”

Bucky nodded. “Yeah, his name’s Steve Rogers. He’s tall, kinda blond I guess, and he’s an athlete.” 

“That makes no sense to me, you don’t seem like the kind of guy who falls for an athlete,” Wong said. 

“I didn’t think I was, but now I’m living something out of a romantic comedy,” Bucky replied. He made a pitiful attempt to hide his blush. 

Anthony on the other hand made no attempt to hide his forced smile. Perhaps it was lucky that most people assumed it was residual pain from his surgery.

“Tony are you feeling okay?” Christine asked.

“Yeah I’m fine, but a little tired. I might go back to sleep soon. I’m sorry Bucky,” Anthony mumbled.

“For what? You didn’t do anything,” Bucky asked. 

“It’s not a big deal, but… yeah. Sorry,” Anthony repeated. 

“I don’t even know what you’re apologizing to me for,” Bucky replied. “You haven’t done anything, I’m confused.”

“I’m pretty sure the Steve you’re dating is my ex, and that’s just kind of awkward for a lot of reasons. I don’t remember what I said about him, or even if I said anything, but if I talked shit about him in front of you then I’m sorry. I’m not sorry for doing it in general, but just for doing it in front of you,” Anthony said. He shifted nervously in his chair, carefully triple checking everything he thought or said. Now wasn’t the time to go into any of the gross gory painful unpleasant details, not when the Golden Boy evidently made Bucky so happy. 

That would just be selfish. In a way, that would validate everything he said when Anthony finally got the nerves to leave him. He was jolted awake and back into the present when Stephen patiently tapped his shoulder. 

Anthony tried to pretend like nothing was wrong, like he’d just zoned out for a minute and hadn’t almost replayed his breakup like it was a movie matinee. “What? Sorry, I was thinking about something else. I probably should go back to sleep.” 

There was light, awkward chatter around the table as Anthony tidied up and refilled his water bottle. 

“Dude, if something I said made you upset or—”

Always the people pleaser, Anthony cut Bucky off. “No no! You’re fine. It’s weird hearing that your friend is dating your ex but I’m not upset about it. I’m not upset at all, just tired.” 

“You sure?” Bucky asked. “I don’t want to put pressure on you.” 

“And I don’t want you to feel bad, I’m fine.” Anthony smiled, his pleasant expression clearly forced again. “I don’t know how to convince you that I’m not upset, but I’m really not. I’m sorry.” 

Anthony hoped that something he said was believable enough, just so the conversation could end. Yes, he wanted to go to sleep, but he needed to stop talking or thinking about his ex. Unfortunately that was easier said than done, and it was already feeling like sleepless night...

Tags: @stark-strange-love2 @kitkatfat15 @chocopiggy @spooky-n-spunky @maya-custodios-dionach @taruyison @katninjagirl97 @thespacecryptid @majesticnerdynerd 

[areiton]

sunlight caught in water - stony

Hey look at me posting my fic on tumblr like it’s 2020 again. Here’s my contribution to Mermay. 

Read on AO3 

~*~ 

The boy comes to the water every summer, sunshine bright and beautiful. And below the waves, hidden in the shoals, you watch. 

~*~ 

He’s with a woman, the first time, frail and small next to her side and you watch him stumble, watch him fall, and his hands splash down in your water. 

You strain against the arms holding you, against the edicts that keep merkin safe, because you see him coughing but he’s laughing too, bright and beautiful, and he splashes in your waves, and you want to splash with him, see those blue eyes trained on you. 

The woman scoops him up and carries him, dripping, into the sand and sunlight and you go limp in Jarvis’ arms, and his tail twines with your tentacles, soothing some of the sad loneliness. 

~*~ 

The boy comes back. Every summer, he comes back, and you watch. As the years slip by, the woman vanishes, replaced by a dark haired boy with hands that are gentle as they help the golden bright boy you can’t look away from. 

He’s still too small, frail and blinding beautiful, and you still drift under the waves and watch him. 

Jarvis doesn’t always go with you, anymore. The migrant currents that bring you past the golden haired boy are harsh and cold, and you think that he’s better left in the warm tropics, where the waves aren’t troubled by metal boats and rippling searching waves and sleek submarines that hunt like sharks in the dark. 

The waves whisper stories, and your cousins carry tales, and you twist in the waves, searching the shore for your sunshine boy because the world is at war, again, the waves twist bloody and the deep swallows up the bodies of too many. 

The coldwater merkin feast and you--you hide in the dark, craft your nets and drag them back, the ones who might survive, and you can hear them screaming when you flip in the water and vanish, a cloud of dark dark tentacles and red gills. 

You save them, as many as you can find, and you search the shore for a boy you don’t find. 

And once, just once, you see someone with sunshine bright hair and seablue eyes and a body as big as a coral reef and you think he’s yours, your boy, because his smile is the same and he splashes in your waves and it sings against your skin like a familiar song sung out of tune. 

Then he’s gone and you think he isn’t, he isn’t, he can’t be. 

~*~ 

Rhodey chases you. 

You love him for it, for his devotion, for the saltwart presence of him behind you, always. His dark skin and gunmetal shark fins scare off most who follow, scare off the sharks and curious dolphins and the orca. 

You love him for chasing you even when you know he doesn’t understand, can’t understand, because he’s never seen your golden sunlight boy smiling into the waves like he can see through them and see you. 

You love him for it, because you are strange and other in your pod, with your dark flashing tentacles and darkwater eyes, an egg hatched strange in the warm water beds, alien and wrong. You grow up quick and bright and bored and Jarvis says you’re perfect, exactly where you should be, but the only time you feel like you belong is when you’re swimming with Rhodey and letting Jarvis’ strong arms carry you through the currents, and hiding out of sight in the shoals under a sunbright boy’s unknowing gaze. 

~*~ 

The tides whisper. 

The waves tell a story. 

Of a bright burning soldier and the war tide he’s turning. 

Of blood brothers and a daring rescue and tired feet tramping through dry forests. 

Of a war torn beach and thousands of bodies surrendered to the waves, and you shiver, and shake and it’s not him, it’s not him, it’s not him. 

Your sunbright boy shakes the world and you chase him as far as the waves will let you and hope that the tides will bring him home. 

~*~ 

When it happens. 

When the ocean trembles. 

When the waves shatter, rocked by an explosion that wakes the monstrous deep--

When it happens, you’re still riding the currents with Rhodey, in bloody water turned bitter with war, and you feel it, feel the tsunami wave that throws you through the water, rips you from Rhodey and your pod and you scream, and crash into the rocks. 

~*~ 

You wake. 

To darkness lit by your strange deepwater gaze. 

You wake. 

To pain and ripping heat. 

You wake. 

To unfamiliar fins and the deep deep silence of the monstrous waves, where nightmares swim. 

You wake. 

And wish you could die. 

~*~ 

You’re smart. 

Cephalopods are always smart, and you think of Rhodey, gunmetal gray and worried eyes and you think of Jarvis, his muted jeweled tones and betta fins, and you think of the migrant currents and your sunbright boy smiling into the waves, and you swear you’ll survive. 

~*~ 

There is a merkin in the cave with you, a serious faced man with a clownfish fin and you wonder where his family is, but you never ask, because you don’t want to know. 

A clownfish that swims alone is almost obscene. 

~They’ll come for you~ he says and you blink at him, tired and shivering. You feel wrong, twisted, missing something essential. 

The sharks have ripped away your tentacles, and you cannot swim, cannot protect yourself, can only drift against the cave floor. 

~They’ll come for you,~ he says and his words are fierce. ~Don’t let them take you.~ 

~*~ 

They take him, in the end, and you--

You use your hands, clever helpful dammed things, drag yourself away while they rip him apart, and it’s silent, so quiet here in the deep, not even merkin screams to break the silence. You  tuck yourself down down down, a broken bloody carcass and let the ocean hide you as you heal. 

~*~ 

Time passes slow, and you heal slower. 

But time does pass, and you do heal, and you dream, dream of a boy bright as sunlight and waves playing on your hands, and seablue eyes laughing into yours. 

~*~ 

When you emerge. 

When you emerge, you are the thing you have always feared, one of the monsters of the deep. You slip from your deepwater crevice, spill inky black tentacles across the water, and stretch in your new grown skin, and when they come, the sharks with their bloody mouths and ripping teeth--

You smile, savage in the dark, and your deepwater eyes gleam and you tear them to pieces. 

~*~ 

You drift along the ocean currents that should feel familiar but nothing feels familiar, not anymore. Merkin drift in your wake, and you can taste their trilling fear, their whispered words shivering through the water against your skin. 

Merkin do not become this, do not become at all. 

The deep--the deep is made for dangerous creatures, for the sleeping giants and dark made monsters. The deep is not made for merkin, with their love of fast water and warm currents, but you have never been a normal merkin, not with your inky tentacles and curious soul and deepwater eyes. 

You drift now, a giant sheltering your kin, and ache because the world feels strange and other and you miss Rhodey, like a tentacle that never grew back. 

~*~ 

When you hear--

You hear so many things, whispers whispers whispers in the water--but there is this too. 

A wave tore through the oceans and killed droves of fish, killed merkin and whales and a pod of dolphins, and it was only a family of narwhal that found it. A ship in the water, strange and metal and falling fast, and a body trapped in ice, shining as bright as the sun. 

You listen, because you can’t help but listen, and turn your eyes north, north, north. 

It’s not him. It’s been decades now, a thousand tides and currents changed while you hid away and grew, and your sunbright boy is long since dead, with Rhodey and Jarvis both. 

~*~ 

Your flashing happy warm water merkin fall away. You swim north, and a pod of orca merkin find you, swim alongside you while the currents change and the tides sweep in and out and then they too turn away and you--you swim north, into water deep and cold and you find--

You find ice. 

You find a boy, trapped in ice that glows like sunshine encased in waves and you breathe, the first time in decades, press yourself against the cold cold ice and wrap your tentacles around it, until you’re as close to him as you’ve ever been. 

A shadow moves in the deep, and you remember the sharks, the grey flashing bellies and white ripping teeth and you want them to come, want them to take you, think you could rip them apart again, that you are better now, then you’ve ever been and you snarl, twist--

Still. 

Stare. 

He is so very small. Smaller than you remember, or perhaps you are just too large, now.

But he is still familiar, still your--

~Hey, Tones,~ Rhodey says. ~I knew you’d find us.~ 

~*~ 

You drift with him, and he never asks, about the monster you’ve become, only lets you carry him when the tides are too strong, when he is tired. You drift with him, and he talks, tells you of the years when you were lost, of looking for you and finding your sunbright boy instead, of staying close to him because you always found your way back to him. 

You drift and sometimes, when Rhodey is swimming and you are sure that he is safe, you dive, dive down into the murky deep, where monsters sleep and the dark glitters, and you tear it apart, the metal ship that brought him into your waves, and pick through the detritus. 

Pluck a round metal disk from the waves, and a glowing blue stone that hurts your eyes that you hide away, a whisper of a promise you can’t name gleaming in it’s depths. A picture, a picture of your sunbright boy and a word spilled together that you can’t say but you think might be his name. 

~*~ 

The years pass, and Rhodey stays, and you stay, and he sleeps on in his ice, until the waters shift and tremble and the ice melts, changes the currents once again, drags him into--into murky water touched by oil and humans and you drift along with him, because you cannot leave him, will not leave him. 

~*~ 

Loud men with rough hands and no gils, no fins, no tentacles--they pull him and his ice from your waves and you scream. The ocean trembles and shakes in your fury, but there is this, still, indisputable: 

He is gone and you cannot follow. 

~*~ 

~Rhodey~ you murmur, watching the watery shore. A sunbrigh man stands there, bereft and shoulders shaking, strange against an unfamiliar skyline, a city rising new and sharp behind him, and you linger unseen in the shallows, a monstrous shadow that has followed him his whole life. ~What if we left the ocean?~ 

~*~ 

You dive, dive, dive, and bring it up, the stone that gleams the color of your deepwater eyes, electric blue and blinding, and Rhodey watches you, something like fear and awe in his gaze, but trust too. 

You smile and think of sunshine and the world melts away. 

~*~ 

Steve watches him, the strange dark haired man with electric blue eyes and the Tesseract in one hand, and shivers in strange recognition, and a chill crawls down his spine, when Tony smiles at him, like a prey caught in the hungry gaze of some ancient predator. 

He smiles, though, a flash of white teeth and it’s bright, almost blinding, like sunshine caught in water. 

Steve smiles back. 

[aurumacadicus]

If you haven’t done it yet, could you do the 5 AU game for your Regency AU?

the-stories-in-my-head-95 said: Hi, I was wondering if you could please do the AU challenge for your regency AU! Thank you!

Hmmmm what should I put that I haven’t already covered lmao. Also some of these are hard and heavy whoops. Long post is long and no I’m not putting it under a cut because no one fucking reblogs my stuff anyway.

It’s a warm night. “Sticky,” Tony complains, because the summers in his kingdom had been dry heat. The Rogers kingdom can gets humid in the beginning, as Spring warms into Summer. “Yeah,” Steve agrees in a sigh, wiping his forehead with the back of his hand. It’s too warm to sleep, but also too late to do anything else. They finally moved out onto the balcony, because it, at least, had a breeze. Bucky turns to look at him, leaning his chin on his hand as he watches a bead of sweat gather on Tony’s collarbone, until it slips down to soak the lace hem of his nightgown. “Might feel better if more of your skin got the breeze,” he offers. Tony narrows his eyes at him. “You’re not just saying that because you want to mount me, are you?” “Honey, I am not impervious to heat. Steve an’ I are down to our shorts and I am this close to throwing them off and going naked,” Bucky sighs, rolling his eyes. Tony continues to stare at him suspiciously for a moment, then mutters a shy, petulant, “Don’t look,” as he finally reaches down for the hem of his nightgown. They obey, but it takes effort. Tony sets his nightgown aside and can’t help a relieved sigh when the warm breeze trails over his damp skin. “Ooh...!” Steve reaches out to trail his fingertips over the small of Tony’s back, murmuring a soft, “Dewy,” mostly to himself. Tony makes a questioning humming noise, and Bucky blinks at him. “What?” “He looks like he’s covered in dew, like the gardens in the morning,” Steve murmurs. “I’m going to draw it.” He can’t sleep, and drawing doesn’t take much effort, so once he thinks about it, the idea is too good to pass up. “Stay here. I’m going to go get my paper and charcoal.” “Steve nooo,” Tony whines, embarrassed, grabbing at his ankle as the blond steps over him. “Steve yes,” Bucky cuts in happily, grabbing Tony’s wrist to stop him. Luckily, Tony isn’t too embarrassed and doesn’t insist that he hide them away. They’re tasteful--he’s obviously naked, but the folds of the blanket around him hide the raciness of it. There is one picture, a cheeky one with his lace-covered rear secondary to the sweat gathering at the small of his back and curling the hair at his nape, but it’s so unbearably intimate that Tony can’t even get mad about it.

Janet makes herself at home in the Rogers kingdom. “Of course, if you insist I return home,” she tells Steve and Bucky, in a way that seems likes she’s deferring to them but honestly just seems more like a threat. “Why would we send away Tony’s friends?” Bucky asks. “He’s allowed to have friends. That isn’t our business.” Janet gives him a long, speculative look up and down, then smiles at him sweetly. “That’s true.” Then she grabs Tony’s hand and begins dragging him out of the throne room. “Jan,” Tony exclaims, trying to stop her and failing--although to be fair to him, Janet seems to be a very unstoppable force. Steve and Bucky watch them go before looking at Rhodey. “Uh.” “She’s always been like this,” Rhodey replies with a shrug. “You get used to it.”

Janet had taken up sewing while she’d been seething in her parents’ castle. “It helped, stabbing things with a needle,” she says, demure, when Tony shows impressed awe at her accomplishment. “I imagined it was Stane’s eyeballs.” Tony pauses in pawing through the silk shirts she’d been showing him, turning to look at her with a confused frown. “The whole time?” “Sometimes it was Tiberius’s eyes but yes, I imagined their eyeballs until news came that you were pregnant,” Janet admits. She grabs up a shirt the finest shade of mint green. “Go put this on.” “What,” Tony sputters. Janet scowls at him. “Go put this on. I made them for you, you know!” “Why,” Tony says, bewildered, even as she shoves him toward his privacy screen. “Belated wedding gifts,” is all he gets before she pulls the privacy screen to block him from her view. “Hurry up. I need to make some adjustments. You’re heavier than last I saw you.” Tony frowns down at his waist, putting his hand on his stomach. “Am I too fat?” he can’t help but ask worriedly. “Tony you were always too skinny and I was ready to murder everyone here if your waistline wasn’t wider when I arrived,” Janet informs him sharply, pulling the screen aside so he gets the full brunt of her glare. “It’s why I left more fabric than I usually would when I did the hems.” Tony screams, startled, because he’d forgotten how fierce her glares were and also he hasn’t been looked at in a state of undress except for his husbands or children since he arrived in the Rogers kingdom (barring when Natasha was helping him dress) and he’s surprised by how embarrassed he is about it. It’s still not as embarrassed as he feels when the bedroom door bursts open and Steve and Bucky lunge in with snarls to find the danger. “...What’s going on here,” Steve says after a moment, because his omega is clutching a shirt to his naked chest and looking vaguely terrified, but there’s nothing to cause his terror. “Oh my God get out!” Tony yelps, mortified. “...This is our room too,” Bucky begins, and then leers at him. “Oh? What’s this?” “You’ve had him to yourself for years it’s my turn,” Janet barks at him. “You can see his new clothes after I’ve altered them!” She is a terror, so Steve and Bucky wisely flee. (Which is fine. Tony’s shy little fashion show a few days later is absolutely adorable, especially when he gushes about the fine stitchery and quality fabric that Janet had gifted him with, even if they are too afraid to tear it off of him.)

One day, Tony asks Steve about a battle. He’s quiet before he finally says the words, so it’s clear he’s thought about it a long time before he asked, which makes sense, because Steve and Bucky rarely talk about the war, at least with Tony, who had suffered in ways that had left him more hollowed out than any battle ha left them. ”I always thought it was strange, that a group of a hundred soldiers would be wiped out like that, considering all of the altercations surrounding it. Looking back, your people were happier to take prisoners of war than have to dig graves for them,” Tony explains when Steve doesn’t answer immediately. “You’d never wiped out an entire troop before.” Steve remembers it. Remembers the troop they’d fought. Remembers his heart dropping into his stomach like a stone once he’d killed the commander of the troop and his second-in-command had sobbed in terror. Remembers his abrupt order to retreat immediately even as he’d been turning on his heel to run. Tony frowns, brows furrowing together as Steve chokes on a sob and covers his face with one hand. “Steve? Steve, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to--please forget I asked, I--” “The entire troop was made up of children,” Steve chokes out, and Tony’s mouth shuts with a click of his teeth slamming together. “Except for the commander. He practically fell on my sword. I think he was trying to protect them, because without a leader they’d surrender.” “Steve,” Tony whispers, horrified. “I ran away,” Steve continues. “I turned and I ran and I told everyone else to retreat too. There was only one casualty in that battle and he sacrificed himself so that the rest of his troop could run away too. Gabe and Bucky saw it. Every one of those kids dropped their weapons and fled. They didn’t get wiped out because we killed them. We listed them as casualties so that no one would go looking for them.” “I--” Tony begins, speechless, unsure what to say. Mostly he wants the ground to open up and swallow him, mortified tears forming in his eyes. “Steve, I--” Steve reaches out and grabs him before he can run away, holding him so tightly that Tony whimpers, but he doesn’t let go. “Every time I remember that moment, I think about you.” Tony jerks, leaning back to look up at him with wet eyes. “Why?” “Because you kept Stane from lowering the conscription age,” Steve answers. “You saved so many kids’ lives. And because... Tony, you were only a couple years older than them at the time of the battle. You were a child, too. What was an omega child to do when their regent was abusing them?” Tony’s breath hitches, and he hides his face in Steve’s chest, unable to speak. He’d never really thought about it like that before; he’d only been seventeen when he’d seen the numbers on the map. He really was only a year or two older than the children in that troop--but he didn’t even want to call it a troop. They weren’t soldiers. They were just a group of children being led by a man desperate to protect them. “I never wanted to tell you,” Steve says softly as Tony sniffles into his shoulder. “But it would have been crueler to lie. Don’t you see, Tony? You saved so many lives in the only ways you could, and your people were there to make the sacrifices you couldn’t to help you. I know, without a shadow of a doubt, that if it had been you standing behind that man, he would have made the same decision. Because you were also a child.” Tony begins sobbing in earnest, and Steve wishes he could have lied, but he knew it would only hurt him in the long run, especially if Tony found out he was lying. It was better this way--lancing the wound and letting it drain at once instead of letting it fester. He presses kisses to the skin he can reach, because there’s nothing else he can really say to make it better.

Bucky rarely horns in on Steve and Tony’s “training” dates. Steve had so much trouble connecting with Tony in the beginning that he actually enjoys that they have something to do together that’s just for the two of them. He also enjoys that Steve typically gives him the same courtesy with his and Tony’s morning rides, but he wouldn’t actually mind if Steve joined them (and he’s pretty sure the only reason Steve doesn’t is because he abhors getting up early). Still, sometimes he can’t help it, feeling restless, like his own skin doesn’t fit right. It happens from time to time--more, now that he’s missing one of his arms. So he goes down to see them, the grounds quiet except for the clanging of swords, grunts of exertion, and the occasional squeal when Steve takes advantage of Tony’s poor form and grabs a handful of Tony’s ass. Bucky leans in the doorway, sticking to the shadow so he doesn’t disturb them. He’s pretty sure that Steve knows he’s there, but the blond doesn’t give any other indication beyond a friend-or-foe glance before he returns his attention to Tony, so quickly that Bucky wonders if it even happened. That’s fine, though. He just wants to observe, soaking in the contentment of his mates sparring, of Steve obviously leaving himself open so that Tony can become more confident, of Tony immediately showing concern whenever he happens to nick Steve. And then all at once, it’s over. Tony gets overly confident, and in his confidence he gets sloppy. Steve teaches him a lesson by clashing their swords together and then swinging his around in a circle, hooking his foot behind Tony’s ankle so he topples over with a yelp at the same time his sword goes flying across the sand. Steve follows him to the ground, crouching over him with a triumphant grin. “I win,” he says, breathless from exertion. Tony stares up at him, apparently still too stunned from the sudden loss. “Oh.” “Do you remember what you promised me if I won?” Steve asks softly. Bucky stands up straight, wondering if he should leave them to their intimate moment. Then Steve shoves Tony’s shirt up and blows a raspberry against his stomach. Tony shrieks and jerks away, laughing, then can’t help but let out a giggly wail as Steve’s fingers dance up his side. “Steve! Steve, nooo!” “You promised me I could leave you flushed and panting,” Steve continues, grinning. “Steeeve!” Tony wails again, laughing, and scrabbles uselessly at the sand. All at once, he sees Bucky lingering in the doorway, and he shrieks, “Bu--Bucky! Help! Steve is--hahaha!--he’s--Aaaahhh!” “Why should I help you instead of Steve,” Bucky asks, raising an eyebrow, unable to help a smile. “You look pretty good like this.” “He-he-help meee!” Tony squeals, and then shrieks again when Steve darts in to blow a raspberry to the back of his neck. Bucky, helpless in the face of his mates’ careless joy, allows himself to be drawn in, taking pity on the helpless omega by tickling Steve’s side exactly where he knows he’s sensitive and laughing when he squeals like Tony had. In the end, they all end up flushed and panting, and Bucky watches as Steve carefully tips Tony’s head so he can capture his lips in a kiss, until Tony is mewling and his chest is heaving for entirely different reasons. He’s slightly surprised when Tony turns to him after the kiss is broken, but leans in gamely, kissing him slow and soft until Steve shoves at him and says that they’ll be late for breakfast if they don’t stop soon. Tony decides they’re going to be late for breakfast.

[ironhusband]

writing kiss meme prompt thing: pleaaseeee no.35 for rhodeytony. plz plz

I love this prompt so much thank you!!! 

~~~

35: An awkward kiss given after a first date.

Tony and Rhodey have been friends for two years. Kindred souls in a sea of adults sneering at their age and blinking when astonished by their intelligence, they met as roommates, and found in one another something they found in no one else. They slowly became friends and learned to understand one another, coming to respect and eventually befriend one another. Tony had probably had a crush on the slightly older student since the first time Rhodey bought an extra pack of ramen for him. Rhodey had probably come to realize how infatuated with Tony he was ever since his best friend licked batter off his cheek when they were spending their summer in Rhodey’s childhood home. It has taken them four months before Rhodey, nearly shuffling his feet from his nerves, had asked Tony out on a date. 

“Dinner and a movie...” Tony repeated slowly and then snorted, “you’d think you were asking me on a date.” 

“Um, yes,” Rhodey answered, holding himself back from taking the opportunity to back down, “I am.” 

Tony blinked, clearly surprised by Rhodey’s offer. “Oh. Um. Ok.” 

“Is that a yes?” Rhodey asked nervously. 

Tony nodded, “uh, yeah. It’s a yes. I mean- yes. Absolutely yes.” 

Rhodey grinned, pleased at Tony’s enthusiasm, “okay. Then be ready at about seven-ish.” 

“Okay. Yeah, okay.” 

~~~

Tony and Rhodey made awkward conversation at their dinner, trying to get their bearings around the idea of dating. Tony and Rhodey usually had a lot to discuss with one another, but every time a banal subject they could have discussed outside of dating had occurred to them, they bit their tongues, trying to find a subject more... romantic. Less of an everyday topic. They both finished eating quickly, finding their mouths to be unoccupied with words, and Tony only spilled his water once. They were both too scared to try anything romantic yet, afraid the awkwardness would deprive them of a future they so desperately wanted. 

The movie was easier. Tony and Rhodey both liked making fun of new releases and attempting anything that crossed the line of friendship seemed more comfortable under the cloak of darkness. Tony made a joke about the effects in the movie and when Rhodey slipped his hand into his, Tony hoped his momentary pause went unnoticed. But it was better than the dinner. Rhodey’s hand was warm, Rhodey’s borrowed jacket (they switched between their jackets since Rhodey’s wore lighter layers and Tony somehow got hot in the theater) smelt nice and the snarks they made at the movies turned into flirts that seemed natural but also new. 

Tony and Rhodey decided to walk home hand in hand, and as they walked together they slowly orbited closer and closer until they were nearly shoulder to shoulder. Tony decided mid walk to switch the positions of their hand holding and threaded their fingers together. Rhodey smiled at the gesture and brought Tony’s hand to brush against his lips. Tony only rolled his eyes at the gentlemen-y kiss but his cheeks heated. 

When they got to their apartment, they paused at the door, unsure of what to do next. They couldn’t very much say goodbye at the door, that would be ridiculous. But... 

“I can escort you to your room,” Rhodey teased. 

Tony snorted, “why would you be escorting me to my room?” 

“Because your room is closer.” 

“It’s an equal distance from the door!” 

“Wanna bet?” 

“Sure, bring the measuring tape!” 

Rhodey laughed and Tony’s heart fluttered, “I’m kinda beat. Maybe we should measure tomorrow. For our next date.” 

Tony’s stomach did summer salutes at the idea of another date, but he tried to school his expression, “I guess so. For tonight maybe we should probably say our goodnights here.” 

“Okay,” Rhodey said and then leaned gave Tony’s hand one more kiss, before letting go, “goodnight, Tony.” 

Tony’s heart started beating in his chest, thinking of how he wanted to say his goodnight. He closed his eyes and started counting. 1... Tony leaned forward.... 2... “Goodnight, Rhodey,” he said... and 3... he pressed forward and kissed Rhodey on the lips. 

The kiss had only lasted a moment, and their lips didn’t naturally mesh together as Tony imagined they would. Tony had memorized the movement lips made when kissing, but the kiss felt as if he was making it against Rhodey’s lips and not in between them. If he gave time for Rhodey to reciprocate, the kiss would have been better, but Tony pulled away after no longer than three seconds. 

When Tony pulled away, Rhodey was staring at him. 

Then, Rhodey gave him a smug grin and it was as if they have found their balance. The balance between friends who tease each other and lovers who kiss one another. “Was that your first kiss?” 

Tony made a choked noise of disagreement, “uh, of course not! You think of yourself too highly!” 

“Oh my god, yes, it was, I am your first kiss. That’s so sweet. I’m Tony Stark’s first kiss!” 

“I’m telling you, you are not!” 

Rhodey grinned, “you are a terrible liar.” 

Tony huffed. There would be no use denying it. Tony was only sixteen. He had always been around people older than him. And he’d been smitten for Rhodey since he was fourteen, making little to no other friends and getting no other crushes. Of course Rhodey was his first kiss. Who else could it be? In a small voice, though, he whispered, “was it that bad?” 

Rhodey gave him a sympathetic look, “yes. It was awful.” 

Tony looked down. He had wished he was just immediately good at kissing so he could give Rhodey the best kiss of his life on the first try, however unattainable the goal may be. But they were going on another date, though. He had time to do that. ...Right? 

“Hey, genius,” Rhodey put a finger under his chin and a hand on his waist, gentle and fond in his words and touches. Tony looked up at his beautiful brown eyes. “Everyone’s first kiss is bad,” Rhodey assured. “Kissing is a skill. Sometimes...” Rhodey pulled him closer, their faces so close their breaths were mingling together, “you just need a good teacher.” Rhodey touched their lips together. 

50 types of kisses

[livvibee]

Three Times Tony Wanted to Kiss Peter and One Time Peter Kissed Him Instead

Pairing: Starker Rating: Mature (M) Notes: This fic fulfills my “First Kiss” square for @starkerfestivals​ summer bingo. Warnings: sexual content, Tony being an oblivious bottom Read here or on AO3.

Spring

It was the in-between time all insomniacs are familiar with, too late to be night and too early to be morning. The sun was barely flirting with the horizon, and the birds had yet to chirp, but the canopy of stars was beginning to fade from the inky blue sky. 

Tony was sitting in the courtyard at the center of the compound, with only the babbling of the water feature behind him to keep him company. His mug of coffee had long gone cold at his side as he stared blankly at the sky, keeping his eyes open in an attempt to avoid a tormented sleep. The stars that used to be such a comfort had their own set of bad memories attached, flying through the wormhole, being stranded in space surrounded by a sea of lights, cooling off on the lake house dock after explosive fights with Pepper. 

Tony heard the door swoosh open and quiet footsteps emerge. He looked over his shoulder to see a welcome sight. The object of his hopeless and quiet affections padding across the courtyard with two cups of coffee, steaming in the cool spring air. Peter was still dressed in his pajamas, muscled thighs below soft shorts, barely peeking out under the oversized tee that was threadbare with use, stretched out neckline drooping on one shoulder and exposing the razor-sharp edge of his collarbone. Fuck, he’s so pretty. 

“Can’t sleep either?” Peter held up the coffee like a peace offering for shattering the silence of the dawning day. 

Tony offered up a small smile but didn’t otherwise comment, taking the coffee in his sleep-deprived grip with shaking hands. Peter sat on the bench, shoulder touching with Tony’s as they relaxed and drank their coffee while the sun rose. Tony blinked away the film of exhaustion gathering in his eyes, finally ready to talk after countless sips of hot java. 

“What’s eating at you, Underoos?” 

Peter let out a soft sigh. “The usual. People I couldn’t save. Dissolving into dust on an alien planet. You know. Spidey stuff. You?” 

Tony tilted his head to rest against Peter’s and secretly thrilled at the additional point of contact. “Just thinking about the stars, Pete.”

They sat in silence again for some time before Peter shifted on the bench to face Tony, ducking his head a little in shyness. “Have you ever, you know, tried talking to someone about things? Sometimes I think I should, then I feel like I should be stronger, able to handle everything on my own.” 

Tony could see Peter starting to crack. “Hey, hey, no.” He put a hand on the other man’s to steady him, fighting the desperate urge to kiss Peter until the worry lines around his eyes relaxed. “You don’t have to carry everything on your own. It does help to have someone to talk to. You know, you can always come to me, or if you’d prefer a third party, I can help you find one. It wouldn’t be the first time someone on the team needed a little help, Pete.” Tony felt Peter’s eyes blazing into his own, searching his face for what, Tony wasn’t sure.

“Thanks, Tony,” Peter exhaled with shaky breath. “I think I’ll take you up on that.”

The two men sat together, quietly talking as the sun blazed orange into the sky, creeping up over the horizon and finally coming into view over the edge of the courtyard wall. Tony wouldn’t realize it until later, but their hands stayed touching for hours, until the complex was waking up around them, figures bustling to and fro visible through the windows. 

Summer

The Avengers annual summer cookout and pool party was the event of the season. The entire team would show up for hotdogs and hamburgers by the pool. Tony was sweating in the summer heat manning the small cabana bar, mixing up cocktails for his teammates and friends. Most of the team were relaxing by the pool, watching the younger set monopolize the diving board with cannonballs and flips, while Rhodey was chatting his ear off about the latest military gossip. 

Tony’s attention wandered as Peter rose out of the water like a Greek god, lifting himself with ease up the side of the pool. Tony was bewitched by the flex of his arms, and watched with hunger as the receding waters revealed Peter’s well built body, inch by inch. From the thick planes of his pecs to his rippling abs, down to his well defined quads and calves Peter was cut like a statue, some superhuman version of a man. Peter made his way across the patio toward the bar. 

Oh my God, he’s coming over here. Play it cool, Tony!

“Hey guys, how’s it going?” Peter’s chirped, hair glistening wetly in the sunlight.

“Hey Spiderling, everything’s good here,” Tony blurted out. “Having a good time, care for a drink? I’m making mai tais!”

“Sure, that sounds delicious.” Peter smiled expectantly toward Tony, watching as he mixed the drink together and gave it a vigorous shake over his shoulder before pouring it into one of the patriotically themed cups. 

“Thanks!” Peter grabbed the drink and gave it a careful sip. “Mm, Tony this is delicious.”

Yeah, I’ll tell you what else is damn delicious. You.

“Sure thing kid, it’s my pleasure. You’ve got a little on your lip, just there.” Tony watched as Peter’s tongue ventured out beyond his lips and slowly traced his top lip, biting back a whine at how badly he wanted that tongue in his mouth. 

“Did I get it all?” Peter asked, the picture of innocence. 

“Yep!” Tony’s response was rushed and his smile wide and fake as he tried to get control of himself. 

Peter took another drink from his glass before smiling and thanking Tony again. The younger man turned to face the pool, adjusting his clinging swimming trunks then stretching his body like a cat as he walked, arms up into the sky, keeping his beverage carefully balanced. Tony hungrily watched the play of muscles along his back as his arms lifted before focusing his gaze on the two perfect round orbs inside his trunks as Peter walked away. Tony bit his lip as he imagined all that bulk holding him down, spearing him open to just-

“Tony! Earth to Tony!” Rhodey’s voice cut in and dropped Tony right out of his fantasy. “Are you through staring at Peter, or should I go and leave you alone with your thoughts?”

Alert! Deflect! Deflect!

“Peter?!” Tony sputtered, trying to gather his thoughts and come up with a plausible excuse. “Uh, I wasn’t staring at Peter, I was on a mental tangent about the latest StarkPad design.” Tony laughed nervously. “You know I’m always working on something, honeybear.”

Rhodey shot him an unimpressed look. “Cmon, Tones, I’ve known you longer than that.”

Tony crumpled under his best friend’s perceptive gaze. “You’re right, I’m pathetic. Lusting after a man so many years younger than me. It’s ridiculous really, I don’t even think he’s into guys.” He glanced hesitantly at Rhodey’s face, who still looked extremely unimpressed.

“I swear your genius intellect deserts you at the most infuriating times.” Rhodey turned to walk away, saying over his shoulder, “Denial ain’t just a river in Egypt, Tony”

Fall

Tony traced the line of Peter’s throat with eager eyes, watching the movement of his Adam’s apple as the younger man gulped down water. Rivulets of sweat were tracing down Peter’s shirtless form, collecting in the divots of his abs and tracing the vee of his obliques, soaking into the band of the sinfully tiny shorts slung from his hips. The golden autumn light from the window backlit the fine hair on his gloriously muscled thighs, and surrounded Peter with a shimmering halo from head to toe. Tony drank in all the details, burning them into his brain as he jogged on the treadmill. 

He’s so fucking hot. Soaked in sweat, glistening above those short-shorts. Honestly how much of this can one man take? Can the universe just give me one night? I just wanna grab at his-

“Hi,Tony!” Peter called across the gym, waving and trying to catch the man’s eye.

The sudden movement and attention startled Tony, and he tripped and went careening backward off the equipment, landing flat on his back and knocking his head on the floor. “Ow! Fuck.” 

“Oh my God! Tony!” Peter bounded across the compound gym and slid to his knees next to Tony’s embarrassed and sore form. “Tony, are you okay?”

Tony opened his eyes to see Peter’s face hovering above him. His warm brown eyes were round with concern, chestnut curls in disarray. Tony smiled up at him with a dopey grin, and lifted a hand to touch his cheek, desperately wanting to kiss away the frown on his perfect lips. “You are so gorgeous, you know that, right?”

A flash of something rose and sank in Peter’s eyes so quickly Tony couldn’t identify it. “Okay…” Peter said, drawing out the o. “Time to get you checked out, come on.” 

Peter hauled Tony up to his feet, ignoring his squawking protests that he was “just fine, c’mon, Pete” and hustled him into medical to get checked out.

Later, after being treated for his bumps and bruises, Tony was fervently grateful that Peter hadn’t listened to the besotted rambling he could fuzzily remember.

Ugh, c’mon, Tones, keep it together and leave the kid alone. You said he was beautiful and he reacted by taking you to medbay. Tony thought to himself with mild disgust, sitting alone on the edge of the medbay bed. You’ve gotta get over this!

Peter popped his head around the corner, startling Tony out of his thoughts. “Hey, you ready to get out of here?”

Tony tried and failed to stifle his blinding grin into something more appropriate. “You came back.” 

Peter laughed. “Wasn’t gonna leave you all alone to recover, but I was desperate for a shower after that workout. Let’s head back to your place, we can watch movies while you rest up.”

Winter

They were in the lab when it happened. Tony had just given Peter a new StarkPhone to replace his old, battered model with the cracked screen. As Peter’s apps and setting transferred over, Tony heard it. That sound. The unmistakable ping of the most popular gay hookup app. Peter didn’t even flinch from where he sat next to Tony, just kept going about his business working on a new suit modification as the notification sounded over and over. 

Tony’s mouth was dry, his heart pounding in his temples, sweating under his threadbare MIT hoodie. A momentous revelation was dawning over his head, and the kid was just sitting there innocently working like he hadn’t changed Tony’s life in a careless instant. This means... Peter likes guys. Oh my God, Peter likes men? 

“Uhhh, Pete?” Tony’s voice was soft and hesitant. “I think your phone is going off…” 

Peter was flippant as he answered, gesturing with the bright red candy cane he’d been sucking between his sugar-sticky lips. “Oh yeah, nothing important. Sorry, it is bothering you? Let me just put the phone on silent.”

“Oh, yeah, no it’s fine. I’m not bothered at all.” Tony delicately cleared his throat. “So… I’m surprised a man like you needs an app to find a hookup.”

Peter’s eyes boggled as he spun around on his stool to face Tony. “How did you… Wait, what?”

“I mean, not to be awkward or anything, but I couldn’t help but notice the notification sound.” Tony began, before delicately saying. “You seem to be very popular. I’m surprised a guy like you needs a hookup app to begin with. I mean let’s face it, you’re very, ah,” Tony’s voice squeaked humiliatingly as his mind flashed over thoughts of Peter’s physique. ”Attractive…”

Peter threw his hands up in the air, wild exasperation written across his features. “This! This was what got your attention? My notifications?!” Peter spun on his stool to face Tony directly, voice still raised as he waved his half eaten candy cane. “Tony, I’ve been trying to draw your attention to me being gay for almost a year! I’d practically given up!” Peter pointed accusingly at Tony. “Do you know the ridiculous things I’ve done? The outfits I’ve worn? I’ve tried to seduce you in the gym, by the pool, in the lab! Hell, I’ve been deep throating a candy cane for the past 25 minutes! An app! Unbelievable!”

“Uh, what?” Tony was completely floored by Peter’s ranting as his thoughts raced, trying to make sense of the conversation. Seduce me? He’s been trying to seduce me? What the fuck?

“And now you have the audacity to be shocked?” Peter was seething at Tony as he sat there stunned. 

Suddenly Peter grabbed Tony’s shoulders and pulled him into a furious kiss. Tony instinctively tilted his head as their lips clashed together, making a small sound of shock behind his closed lips. Tony’s lips parted as Peter’s tongue darted in delicately, stabbing gently inside Tony’s mouth. The older man moaned into the kiss, feeling heat spread down to the tips of his toes. 

Peter drew back and lifted his hands from Tony’s shoulder to grasp desperately at the sides of his head, mumbling against Tony’s lips. “You’re an incredibly infuriating man, Tony Stark.”

Tony panted quietly, half hard in his jeans and head spinning. He reached out to grab at the sleeves of Peter’s sweater and steady himself. 

“I… I didn’t know, Pete,” Tony whispered. “I would never think that you’d be interested in someone so much older and frankly you’re just so attract-” 

Peter gently shushed Tony and brought their lips back together for a series of light pecks, petting absently at Tony’s hair while they kissed. 

The younger man pulled away again to speak. “Let me show you how interested I am. Can I do that?”

“Yes!” Tony gasped as Peter leaned in to suck a livid mark into his neck. “You can do anything to me.”

Peter grinned against the column of Tony’s throat. “That’s an awfully big promise. I might make you regret it.”

Tony pulled Peter’s head up to look at Peter seriously. “I don’t think you could make me regret this, even if you tried.”

Peter’s eyes widened before he leaned forward desperately, knocking their mouths together again, finesse gone out the window. Their teeth clacked as the kiss deepened, Tony’s mouth being plundered once again. 

The next hour passed by in Tony’s mind in a blur of sin. Being spread over the lab table, pants down around his knees as Peter proved his tongue was just as talented in Tony’s ass- gasping at the slow penetration as Peter worked him open with strong fingers- crying out in pleasure over and over as Peter thrust in, deep strokes pressing across Tony’s sweet spot- feeling Peter’s hand wrapped around his straining erection, pulling Tony over the edge with rough strokes and a rush of white heat as Peter chased his own pleasure in Tony’s tightness. 

They ended up on the cold floor of the lab, Tony cuddled against Peter’s chest, sticky with sweat and release. 

“That… that was fantastic,” Tony sighed, hiding his face against the solid muscles beneath him. 

Peter’s grasp tightened where he was holding Tony close. “I knew it would be. Totally worth a year of slow seduction to wind up with you in my arms.” 

Tony let out a bark of laughter. “I guess Rhodey really was right, he was shaking his head at my idiocy all the way back at the pool party this summer.”

Peter’s chest under Tony’s head as he laughed. “Rhodey was totally right. He’d already given me a shovel talk by then, and I was beginning to think it would never be relevant. He pulled me aside after the party and told me not to give up hope, and explained all the hearts you’ve broken through sheer obliviousness over the years.”

“Yeah, he’s a good wingman,” Tony reminisced fondly before Peter’s words fully processed. “Wait, hang on, all the hearts I’ve broken through obliviousness?”

“Never change Tony, please.” Peter’s voice crackled with mirth before lowering into seriousness.  “Now that I have you, I don’t want to share you with anyone else.” 

[lovelyirony]

29.) What season reminds Tony of Rhodey?

Summer. The heat is as unrelenting and stubborn as Rhodey is, and Tony loves this season the most (which is entirely too fitting). Summer was also when he got to see Rhodey most and they got to focus on things other than school. But Rhodey loves summer too, and he especially loves when Tony finally puts a pool in the house so he can spend hours just swimming laps.

“You make literally no sense. That sounds so boring.”

“Oh I’m sorry, aren’t you the one who keeps doing the same puzzle?”

“I’m trying to break my record time for thirty-eight minutes!”

30.) What season reminds Rhodey of Tony?  

Autumn. It’s the season of change, and Tony changes the world so often, although he himself doesn’t change much. He loves wrapping up in old sweatshirts and making warm cider and complaining to Rhodey about how he doesn’t have enough socks. (He buys socks, like, every month. Rhodey doesn’t know where they go.)

[dykeninthdoctor]

made up fic title: The Third Thursday of January

Edwin Jarvis dies on January 24, 1996.

-

It’s raining outside, drops hitting the metal bars of their fire escape, the glass of their windows, the roof of their apartment, and cold too, so the heat’s on full blast. Jim’s in the kitchen, slicing out-of-season peaches from the grocery store to make his momma’s cobbler, even though they were $1.19 more expensive than they would be during the summer. Tony’s on their thrifted couch, socked feet tucked underneath him as he skims through different documents for S.I. Both of them are wearing two layers of sweaters, hand-knitted by Momma Robbie, and it’s safe and warm and cozy inside, even as thunder rumbles outside.

The phone rings, and Tony rolls off the couch to answer it, the cap of his pen still in his mouth. Jim shakes his head, reaching across the kitchen counter to take it out, cupping Tony’s face for a brief second before letting his hand fall. Tony blows him a kiss as he picks up the phone, hip resting against the counter.

“Hello? Oh–Ana!”

And then his face crumples.

Jim’s fast enough to catch him before he falls.

-

Edwin Jarvis dies on January 24, 1996.

Tony Stark finds out on January 25, 1996.  

Jim Rhodes holds him while he cries.

-

“He’s gone–“ Tony whispers, voice choked and hollow and broken. “He’s gone, Rhodey–he’s gone and I didn’t get to say goodbye and I didn’t get to–to do anything, he’s just–he just left me. He left me. He–“

A sob wracks his body, and Jim holds him tighter.

“I don’t–I don’t know what to do, he was–he was–“

“He was your Jarvis,” Jim says softly, because father doesn’t begin to describe the relationship Tony had with Edwin, not when Howard goes hand in hand with father.

“Jarvis,” Tony sobs.

-

Grief is complicated. Tony is complicated. Pairing the two is hard.

Jim’s there anyway.

Some days, Tony cries uncontrollably, and then seconds later, wipes it all away with a single blink.

Other days, Tony doesn’t cry at all.

Rainy days are the hardest.

Jim’s there anyway.

[starkerforlife6969]

Starker - Accidentally Perfect

It all started with a bet.

And Tony hates how much of a cliche even that is. A bet. He's let himself get dragged into a bet by a fresh-faced eighteen year old who has a walkman ironically and brings a dictaphone into every lecture.

Goddamn, he hates Peter Parker. He seethes furiously at him from across the quad, the hot summer sun beating down on his shoulders. His blank tank top is helping keep the heat off, but it's still almost unbearably warm. Sticky with the promise of the summer holidays only a few weeks away.

"Do you actually think you can stare him out of existence?" Rhodey asks, a cool, amused voice from back in the shade of their stand. Tony turns and glowers, pulling his sunglasses off.

"He's such a little shit."

"He's eighteen, Tony. All eighteen year olds are little shits. We were, remember?"

Tony doesn't remember them ever being as unbearable as Peter. His face must say as much, because Rhodey sighs.

"We're twenty-seven." He says gently. "We're getting a little too old to keep blaming college wars on the freshman."

He barely resists the urge to stomp his foot. "He started it!"

It's true, Tony thinks. He can't really remember how it all started. He remembers the beginning of the semester, deciding to take a break from the all-consuming robotics thesis of his doctorate and go and drop in on a lecture. He remembers a bright-eyed boy with fluffy hair stumbling through a presentation in front of his peers. He very vaguely remembers calling out one or two inconsistencies with Peter's presentation. He remembers the bright red flush that had spread across Peter's cheeks, and the way he'd stumbled quietly over his words, and- okay- in Tony's defence, he was sleep deprived- trying to think up his proposal, still trying to get his second phD started and-

It had turned into all out war pretty quickly.

Turns out, Peter didn't respond well to being picked on.

Not that Tony had picked on him, just-

"Gluing all my furniture to the ceiling? Selling my text books? Hiring someone to fire a paintball at me every hour for four days?!" Tony runs his hands through his hair, shaking his head. "He's evil!"

Rhodey barely blinks, eyes on his phone. "But..."

Tony's shoulders droop. "...But I started it." He mumbles under his breath.

"What? I didn't quite catch that."

"I started it, alright? Jeez," he winces, "I said sorry."

"No. You didn't."

Okay fine, he's not big on apologies.

Whatever. It doesn't matter anyway. They're where they are now. The bet. Whoever raises the most money for the oil spill just off of Mexico's coast wins. Their two stands sit opposite each other on the quad, six hours to raise money, loser has to get down on their knees in front of the entire student body and declare the other their superior in every single way.

That's why Tony's here. In a tight black tank top, muscles on display, sunglasses on, hair messy, grinning at everyone who passes.

"How much have we got, Rhode-aroo?"

There's a gentle clatter as Rhodey checks the basket. "Uh, $12?"

Tony winces. That's not great. "Whatever. It's gotta be more than Parker has anyway."

Rhodey hums.

***

As the third hour ticks by, Tony slinks back into the shade of their stall and dozes off a little. It can't be more than fifteen minutes, but when he opens his eyes, there's a trickle of students leaving their classes and walking through the quad.

For some bewildering reason, they're all walking to Peter's stand.

Tony frowns, tiptoeing over to enemy lines.

The first thing he sees is that Peter's money basket is full. Not just one money basket, but four money baskets. At least $100 in change, loose bills and Starbucks vouchers.

What the fuck?

And then- then he sees why.

MJ, the equally annoying friend, is manning the booth. She's concise and thoughtful and armed with scary statistics as she neatly collects money and scares more into baskets.

But Peter, Peter is all cream silk shirt and tight blue shorts, and big eyes and enthusiasm.

"I just keep thinking of the baby seals," Peter whines, rocking on the heels of his feet, pink converse scraping against the grass. "Those poor animals, all covered in oil..." he bites his lip, bats those eyelashes, and the tall jock who's leaning over him, nods, already fumbling for his wallet.

"Yeah totally, the-the seals."

"Right? Oh, thank you," Peter sighs, voice a little wanton moan, touching the guy's elbow, leaning in. "You're a hero."

The guy tosses in another twenty.

Jesus Christ. Tony can't help his grin of disbelief, even as irritated as he is that he didn't come up with it first.

Devious little shit.

***

When the crowd has dispersed a little bit, and the dynamic duo have bled most everyone dry, Tony makes himself known, crossing his arms and shaking his head.

"Wow, Parker. We're more alike than I thought."

Peter turns, looking up at him, eyebrows lifted in surprise. "Oh yeah? How's that? Did you actually start caring about the oil spill?"

Tony hums, feigning nonchalance. "I just mean, I thought your standards were a little higher."

The boy frowns, little face scrunched up in confusion. It's annoyingly endearing. "Huh?"

"C'mon, no need to hide now. Playing dumb and pretty to get donations? Way to care about the animals."

The outrage that flits across that expressive face is way too believable. "Pretty anddumb? Screw you, Tony. You're just jealous I'm winning." Peter humphs, crossing his arms. "Is surly know-it-all not enticing the crowds the way you thought it would?"

Tony shrugs. "Maybe. Because I won't reduce myself."

"What are you talking about?!"

"Come on, Peter. You know what you're doing to people." Here, Tony raises his voice. Hopefully, he'll be able to steer people away from here and over to his own stand. Though, Rhodey's death glare from across the quad is making him think maybe that's not an excellent idea- why, he's not sure. He barrels on, attention on him. "You're doing that thing- with the big sparkly brown Disney eyes and the scandalously short shorts and the elbow-touching. You're fake laughing at bad jokes and fluttering your eyelashes and selling your torturous mix of princess and bombshell that none of us can resist to trick people into giving you their money, admit it!"

Peter gapes, mouth in a delicious 'o'. "I am not!" He shrieks: scandalised.

Tony scoffs. "You expect me to believe that you're thisfucking irresistible on purpose?"

The boy doesn't seem to know what to do with that. He scrambles, blushing under the stare of the passers-by. "I'm...I don't...um...thank you?"

Tony stares. No way. No fucking way is this not an act, it can't be or-

"Yeah." MJ sighs, the sigh of the long-wearied, as she unfolds another dollar bill into the pile. "Join the club."

***

Tony's pacing back stage, still trying to understand everything in his head.

The entire student body is waiting on the other side of that curtain, mostly drunk, hopefully too drunk to remember this in the morning- to see his apology act.

"Big sparkly Disney eyes," Rhodes hums, re-watching the video on twitter. "I'm surprised you went with that one, you're always going on about his Bambi eyes. What's the difference?"

"I swear to god, if you keep talking-"

"I think my favourite bit is where you basically announced to the world that your kink is sexy princess."

"Oh my god-"

"Uh- T-Tony?"

Tony whirls around to see Peter standing at the curtain, and Tony can't help the groan of embarrassment.

"Look, Pete, I'll do it, alright? Just give me a second to shed the last of my dignity."

"No, it's not..." Peter blushes, and Rhodey lifts his hands, shuffling away to give them some privacy. Peter edges closer, stupidly gorgeous with all of his freckles, a fucking dandelion crown perched on his chestnut curls, like he's just trying to press all of Tony's buttons and- "Look, Tony," Peter murmurs, all sweetness and loveliness, "I was thinking, you don't need to- you don't need to go out there and say anything." He wrings his lily-white hands, silvery bracelets hanging at the wrist, "Really. I feel like- the fact that video from the quad went viral was- that's more than enough."

Tony doesn't know what to say, but it doesn't stop him from trying. "Pete, about what I said..."

"I really wasn't doing any of that stuff- I-, I wasn't trying to play dumb, or- I mean, maybe I was? I didn't- I didn't mean to, I just wanted to help the seals, and I've already bought my ticket to volunteer for seal cleaning over summer break and-"

Tony laughs, shaking his head. Because he knows. He sighs, meeting those lovely brown eyes. "I know you weren't. You're not- I was just- I'm sorry, Pete. For all of it. For the day we met."

Peter looks shy, but pleased. "You were an ass." He agrees amiably.

"I was. Am. Trying not to be."

Peter chews on his bottom lip, accidentally embodying Tony's every wet dream. "You could buy a ticket for the summer seal cleaning task." Peter shrugs, eyes darting away. "If you like."

"With you?" Tony wonders aloud, "with you being so...unintentionally you? Not sure I could cope."

"True," Peter whispers coyly, "imagine if I was actively trying to seduce you. You wouldn't last a minute."

At that, Tony laughs again. Loud and delighted. Head tipped back, unaware to how Peter drinks in the sight. "Is that a bet, kid?"

Peter beams.

[ohwereusingourmadeupnames]

It’s This Jealousy 

Pairing: Peter Parker/Tony Stark Rating: Mature (M) Notes: I got tagged in this post right here by @starkerscoop and couldn’t pass up the opportunity to get my hands on it. It got a little smutty at the end - hope you don’t mind! (& @send-me-your-hcs asked for a tag, too!)  Warnings: masturbation  Summary: 

It's this jealousy Oh, and I just can't believe In this jealousy This jealousy for you

At the ripe age of 49, Tony never imagined he’d be best friends with an 18-year-old. After all the mess with Steve and Bucky, things were a little strained between Rhodey and Tony. It wasn’t anything personal, there were just lots of things between them now, the leg braces he worked constantly to improve not even close to the only thing. With Peter, Tony could simply be. Their shared history wasn’t filled with anything other than a little tension and some misplaced control on Tony’s part.

The more Tony started to see Peter as the intelligent person he was and not the kid he always made him out to be, the more he wanted to have the younger man around. There was something in the way he tilted his head to ask questions and babbled incessantly that Tony just felt drawn to. Try as he might, there was no escaping the magnetic pull that drew him more towards Peter every single day.

It wasn’t subtle, either – the way they just seemed to fit. Peter moved into Avenger’s tower after graduating; the transition from part time to full time was and easy one, he fit right in with everyone – especially Tony. It didn’t take long for the two of them to break off and head for the lab together or be found in the living room pressed together from shoulder to hip talking quietly amongst themselves.

If someone was looking for Tony, they always pointed him in Peter’s direction. There weren’t many times throughout the day that they weren’t together. Tony appreciated Peter’s brain – he thought from all angles and wasn’t afraid to be wrong. There were many times when Peter taught Tony something new or made him go back and look at things from a totally different perspective.

Just the other day, Tony sat with his head in his hands, the nanotech and its housing unit he’d been trying to manipulate for the last hour sitting uselessly on the desk. A soft touch on his shoulder had him looking up, a smile overtaking his face for the first time all day. “Hey, kid,” Tony said in greeting, his hand coming up to hold Peter’s to his shoulder for a moment. “Training go well?”

He’d been trying to update his suit, so he stepped out of the group training for the day. The transition from the mechanism on his chest to the full suit was still too slow – he needed at least another second off of the total time. The headache didn’t seem worth it at that point, though – he should have worked the frustrations out. His head ached and he wanted to pull the freshly showered Peter Parker closer to him more than usual.

When Tony let go of Peter’s hand, he was surprised to find that Peter didn’t move his hand from its place on his shoulder. In fact, the fingers there dug in, the tips moving up and down the line of muscle. He tried not to move – the last thing he wanted to do was scare the kid away; the touch felt amazing. It was almost enough to make the collection of useless tech below him not matter. Almost.

“It did – the new adjustments you made to the aiming system did a world of good. I was moving so fast today,” Peter answered, his voice excited. Tony forced himself to settle on the slightest flash of a smile – Peter loved being a superhero, it was so insanely obvious. More often times than not, Tony found himself working on Peter’s suit just to see the astonishing smile on his face – the very one that was beaming back at him right now.

Tony picked up the small screwdriver he’d been using to mess with the back paneling, his face burning a little from the rush of affection that washed over him. It didn’t make sense, feeling like a schoolboy with a crush. But he couldn’t help it – Peter was so wholesome and filled with excitability and life; it was hard not to be drawn to it. “Bummed I missed it. I’ll pull the data from EDITH later – we can do a little data spec. I’ll see it in real time that way.”

He heard Peter suck in a breath, then saw the smile on his face grow wider. “That sounds like a good idea. I also brought some new ideas for the next evolution of web fluid. I’m so close to a breakthrough.” He went about taking his StarkPad and old-fashioned spiral notebook out of his backpack, excitement written all over his face.

Sitting down next to him (instead of across from him like not too long ago) Peter leaned into Tony’s space, looking over his shoulder. “I don’t think it’s this,” Peter remarked, pointing to the external structure. “The adjustments you made on the shooters was in the programming. I don’t think it’s a mass thing, either. I think it’s in the transition.” To Tony’s surprise, he opened his notebook and pointed to a couple different equations. “I ran these this morning when I saw what you were looking at yesterday.”

Peter’s cheeks were red, and his body radiated the kind of heat that shouldn’t have been natural. It made his entire right side warm, the bare skin of his forearms prickling from the contact. Letting his eyes roam over the work, Tony leaned into him – an arm wrapping around his shoulder. “This is good stuff, Pete. I think I know exactly where to go now.” He kept his arm there for a few minutes, the two of them still lightly discussing the numbers and what brought Peter down that path.

A week later, his suit was ruining faster than ever before. Every time he punched the mechanism and the nanotech did its thing, Tony felt a warm drip of pride in the middle of his core – the little bits of attraction he’d been trying to hide getting harder and harder to ignore.

Especially because Peter seemed to think that their friendship came with an all access pass – to him, to the never-ending stream of thoughts that ran through his head, hell, to Tony’s things. Many times, he’d come back from a meeting and find Peter passed out on the edge of his bed, the huge TV dialed in to some anime show he couldn’t force himself to get into. He never did anything about it – how could he? Most of his daydreams revolved around that very instance.

After a few weeks, Peter started to talk – like, really talk. He started with the story of how his parents died and the struggle it was to get used to living with May and Ben. Peter talked about the things he missed because he didn’t have parents in his life, no matter how much his aunt and uncle tried. 

The more time they spent together, the more Peter let himself be free with his words. Tony knew what type of shampoo he preferred, how many times May walked in on him naked or unclothed, and all the different fanfictions currently all the rage.

They were close – plain and simple. There were a few times when their closeness seemed like it might be something else, but neither man acted upon it. Tony didn’t want to apply undue pressure to a situation that only few people his age were interested in. He didn’t know much about Peter’s thoughts on that matter – it was the one thing they didn’t talk about.

MJ quickly became a topic that strictly stayed in the friend pile, Peter’s interest in her weaning significantly after some sort of mishap during their trip to Europe.

Tony spent most of his time holed up in his bedroom the entire week Peter was gone, his mind and body exhausted from all the work he managed to get done in the comfort of his king-sized bed. He didn’t talk to anyone, Tony keenly aware that his behavior was not appropriate for an almost 50-year-old person.

He could never admit that Peter coming back was the best day of the entire summer – the two of them quickly catching up on his use of EDITH and the different aspects of the new suit he wanted to start working on for his patrols back in the city. It seemed like nothing changed between them – but relationships or anything related weren’t brought up again.

The idea that he wasn’t approachable in that area made his jaw clench. His history didn’t lend itself to a positive image, he could admit that. There were a few years when things were so out of whack that only going from one thing to the next could satisfy him. After the cave, Tony figured the person closest to him when he got back was the answer. The try he applied to his relationship with Pepper wasn’t lacking, they were simply better off as friends.

It smarted a little – how perceptive Peter was. If the reason he didn’t approach Tony was because of his past, he couldn’t begrudge Peter one single bit. The kid was smart and understood that bad habits weren’t to be repeated. Too bad Tony’s history wasn’t anything like the way he currently felt and thought.

----

Walking into the kitchen in the common area of the tower, Tony quirked a brow at the congregation of Steve Rogers, Wanda, Bucky, and Peter – they all looked up at him when they realized he was in the room. Peter’s cheeks colored, his eyes drifting down to the hands knit together in front of him. The rest of the adults at the table were looking at him with looks of curiosity and interest – Tony almost certain he could feel Wanda picking around in his brain, or something.

“Tony!” Peter exclaimed, one of his hands moving quickly to cover his mouth. It would have been comical if Tony didn’t know the kid so well. Peter didn’t do so well with lying or bending the truth – his face and expressive eyes gave him away. Staring at him now, Tony wondered what kind of snake pit he walked into. He gave the group a swift nod but didn’t stop to join them – he didn’t need spider senses to understand the prickly sensation on the back of his neck.

He was quick to get the hell out of dodge, a water bottle in his hand – the thought of making a sandwich quickly abandoned when all of the eyes in the room followed his every movement. Settling onto the couch, Tony put a random Netflix show on and turned up the volume – his ears ringing from the overdrive of his thoughts. Whatever they were talking about, he suspected it might have something to do with him.

It didn’t stay a mystery long. Tony saw Steve approaching him from the laid-back position he let himself curl into on the couch. Queer Eye sucked him in, so he let his brain check out, his body relaxing with the rest of him. The second he saw Steve, though, he sat up – the prickly sensation returning to his skin. He felt like he might throw up all over his fancy shoes, the thought that maybe throwing up would be a little less painful than whatever Steve might have to say crossed his mind.

“So – “ Steve started, his arms folding across his chest as he settled into the empty part of the couch. “I had a surprising conversation with Peter. Or well, he asked some surprising questions. Are things okay between the two of you?” Steve’s voice sounded a little patronizing – the big brother act something Tony could never get behind. At least he was here talking to him, though – it didn’t seem right to begrudge him that.

“What are you talking about, Rogers? I don’t know what kind of questions he asked you to know what you’re referring to. The last time I saw Peter, he was smiling over a beaker of web fluid.” Tony pressed himself against the side of the couch, the softness of it aggravating. In that moment, he wanted weight – something to ground him to this weird conversation.

In another life, Tony would’ve appreciated the tilt of Steve’s head, the curious look in his eye not the worst thing to look at. He knew what it was like to take on Bucky, though – he’d never win that fight alone. Shaking his head of the thought, he focused on Steve and the words it seemed he was trying to find. “He was asking about pleasuring himself. We all assumed you two were good in that department.”

Tony sucked in a breath, his eye bulging. “Pleasuring himself – what? Steve, we’re not together.” The words felt weird coming out of his mouth, like they were trying their hardest to cling to the surface of his tongue and not be spoken; speaking them made it true. Running a hand through his hair, Tony wished that the couch would open up and swallow him whole.

The emotions that swarmed around him made it hard to pay attention to anything else Steve said – his head nodding, but his brain not really processing anything. All he could think about was the fact that Peter went to Steve Rogers of all people to ask about the most personal of matters. Tony was good enough for everything except carnality – what a joy that was to learn. Without much thought, Tony got up, not really giving two shits about the still talking Steve gaping at him from the couch.

He took refuge in the lab – the sight and smell of familiar things enough to calm him down slightly. “FRIDAY, play some classic rock, will you? KISS, maybe.” Tony said absentmindedly – music would drown out the bottomless pit of things that only made him angry. His understanding of how irrational it was to be as angry and jealous and upset about something that wasn’t even his business made it all a little worse.

A whoosh of the door opening a little while later brought Tony out of the trance that he blissfully slipped into. Not thinking was a lot better than the war of emotions that threatened to consume him. His eyes caught Peter’s, his exterior softening for a second – his presence was soothing, even now.

Remembering Steve’s mistake and the weird feeling of betrayal, Tony lowered his eyes quickly – it would take ignoring the soft look in Peter’s eye to keep firm to his resolve to be mad.

“Tony – I’ve been looking for you everywhere.” Peter approached him like one would a wounded animal, slowly and with caution. He wondered if Steve was supposed to tell Tony about Peter’s questions – if he was betraying the kid’s trust to set the record straight. His blood felt like it was boiling – the direction of his thoughts not very productive in deactivating the bomb that was ticking down, each second a little closer to explosion.

He felt himself huff out a sarcastic laugh, his emotions getting the best of him. “Well, you found me. Now what?” Tony’s voice was harder than he ever wanted to use towards Peter – the pitch of it sending a shiver of shame down his spine. The subtle change in the room wasn’t missed – so he let the feeling take hold; what did he really have to lose?

“What? Tony, I – “ Peter spluttered, words not coming despite his demand for them.

“You what? You’ve told me your entire life story, every little intimate detail, but you seek out Steve Rogers for sex advice? I don’t get you, Peter – a little piece of me is licking a wound. It kind of feels a little like betrayal.” Tony inwardly cringed, his own desperation so very evident. The dam inside of him was broken – there seemed to really be no going back. “I’m good enough for everything but this?”

Peter’s face fell, his usually bright eyes clouded over by confusion that was swiftly mixing with hurt – it pained Tony on a molecular level, seeing that gorgeous face anything but radiant with happiness. “Steve’s such an asshole,” Peter muttered, his eyes dropping to the floor. Tony wanted to pick Peter’s head up and rub his cheeks until the red hue and shine came back to his face.

“I didn’t come to you because you’re the one driving me crazy – I’ve been so on edge around you and I can’t – there hasn’t been any relief. I thought I’d ask people who are just as souped up as me about it. I thought maybe there was something wrong with me,” Peter admitted quietly, his eyes peeking up to gauge the look on Tony’s face.

Shaking his head, Tony cursed himself for not being the stonewalled person he made himself out to be. The cracks in his armor were ones he couldn’t buff out – no matter how hard he tried. Words he longed to hear sat on his skin, his body trying to decide how to process the stimulus of actually getting the thing he wanted the most.

The few steps it took to close the gap between them felt like miles – Tony couldn’t get his hands on Peter fast enough. “I’m driving you crazy?” Tony mumbled; his hands grabbing Peter’s hips. “You walk into the room and I’m completely lost. I’ve thought about bending you over every one of these tables – kissing you breathless against the damn fridge you lean into and search for food that isn’t there.”

Peter wrapped his arms around Tony’s neck, his enhanced strength pulling Tony against him before he knew what happened. There wasn’t any space left between them, their noses brushing with every hitch of breath either man took. “You’re my best friend, Pete – I haven’t wanted to fuck that up.”

Their lips touched then, both of them leaning in to close the distance. Tony’s fingers clenched, the hold on Peter’s hips tightening. The t-shirt Peter was wearing rode up a little, a bare stripe of skin available for his fingers to touch. At first brush, the body against him squirmed, Peter pulling away to let out a soft gasp. “Fuck!” Peter grunted out, his eyes clenching closed.

Tony watched Peter’s reaction, a rush of heat collecting in the boiling pit of his stomach – his cock throbbed against the zipper of his jeans. He’d thought a lot about what Peter would look like in the throes of passion – the sight was exponentially better than anything his brain could dream up. The flush on his cheeks made them seem fuller, the globe of them looking tasty enough to pull into his mouth. Glazed eyes and a hanging jaw had Tony moving – his lips desperate to be pressed against Peter’s once again.

“We should move this elsewhere,” Peter babbled against Tony’s lips, his fingers fisted in the front of Tony’s shirt. “I want to feel your skin, Tony.” His hands were uselessly tugging at the buttons, the fabric of it starting to tear with the force of his grip.

Groaning, Tony forced himself to take a couple of steps out of Peter’s grip completely. It would take too many brain cells to get to the elevator and up to the floor his rooms were on if he were still anyway attached to Peter – his hands achy to touch, to finally feel the thrum of Peter’s heartbeat pulsing in his veins.

“After you,” Tony mumbled, his chest heaving as he watched Peter walk in front of him, the articulation of his step hitched a bit from the stiffness in his pants. His steps were quick and the view from behind was nice – a good enough distraction to get him from the lab, into the elevator, and then down the hall where he grabbed Peter’s hand and pulled him along.

The slamming of the door in his bedroom was more satisfying than he figured something small like that had the right to be. Peter’s breath hitched when Tony’s eager fingers slipped under the edge of the soft t-shirt covering the long limbs he’d been thinking about for months. It got caught on Peter’s ear as Tony pulled it off, both of them laughing. “I can’t believe this is happening,” Peter admitted, pupils blown wide.

Tony grinned, the tips of his fingers trailing down the hard planes of Peter’s sides – “It’s real – I’m real,” Tony answered, his hand grabbing Peter’s and placing it over the hardness trying to escape the confines of his jeans. “That’s for you.” He let a chuckle slip, the reaction of Peter’s hand tightening on his crotch surprising him.

They made quick work of clothes after that, Tony kissing him breathless between the unbuttoning of his shirt buttons and the fumbling it took to get shoes, pants, and briefs off. Peter ended up in the middle of the bed, Tony settled between his spread legs. “Touch yourself. Steve may be enhanced, but I know what it’s like to feel good,” Tony’s voice dropped, his eyes wandering over every single inch of Peter stretched out below him.

Peter didn’t wait to do what he said, long fingers wrapping around a thick erection before Tony even finished speaking. His grip was tight, Tony taking stock in the way he slid his hand from the head to the base, and the flick of his wrist on the upstroke. Dark eyelashes flickered, the edges of them just barely moving along the edge of Peter’s cheek.  

Without saying anything, Tony let the fingers of his right-hand trail along the inside of Peter’s thighs. He kept the touch light, the skin pebbling with his caress. “The best part of what you’re doing is the build-up. It starts with the littlest itch. You grasp on and try to itch, but the pressure you’re using isn’t enough,” Tony flattened his hand, his palm running down the front of Peter’s balls. They were slightly hairy and drawn up – the sheen of sweat on Peter’s skin telling him just how much Peter seemed to be enjoying the tease.

Gripping both of Peter’s balls in his hand, Tony gave a tug and rolled them between his fingers. “So, you grip a little harder and move your hand a little faster – it’s the sweet combination of pleasure-pain, the relief of almost curing the itch and the slightest dig of your fingernails into your skin.” Tony let his left-hand wrap around his own length, the tip completely drenched in precum.

Tony slipped his hand from Peter’s balls down his perineum and in between his cheeks, his finger tracing around the tight rim of his asshole. Peter’s hand was moving quickly over himself, his eyes wide as he tried to stave off an orgasm and catch every move of Tony’s hand that he could. “You should cum, Pete. Finally scratch that itch.” Tony’s finger pressed ever so slightly against the rim as he spoke, the tip barely slipping inside. “Cum, Pete.”

The clench of Peter’s muscles was almost enough to pull Tony over the edge with him – Peter’s hand was flying over his length, the start of his orgasm splashing against the bottom of his stomach, then pooling between the ab and pec complex up towards his chest. Tony’s name dripped from his lips, Peter’s free hand fumbling around until he grasped bare skin.

It took a couple more strokes for Tony to follow him over the edge, the sight of Peter’s cum coating his own stomach and the blissed-out expression on his face more than enough to fuel Tony’s fire for a long time to come.

Without much thought, Tony collapsed on Peter’s chest, their legs tangling. He didn’t care about the cum that smeared against his skin when he moved in to press a kiss to already swollen lips – Tony hoped to spend many days covered in Peter’s cum and sweat. Now that the dam was broken, there’d be no holding back the feelings he tried his best to keep under control.

Peter’s arms wrapped tightly around him, Tony feeling the boy’s sigh from his position against his chest. His skin was warm and slick – the softness of it a contrast that made Tony want to hunker down and be surrounded by it forever.

[romeoandjulietyouwish]

Shining Waters

For @jamesbuckystark (@friendly-neighborhood-exchange)

Another exchange fic! This time a pinch hit! 

Rating: T

Characters: Peter Parker, Morgan Stark, Tony Stark, Pepper Potts

Summary: Peter babysits Morgan for the first time. It does not go as planned.

Prompt: Peter bonding with Morgan

TW: near drowning

Ao3 link

Tag list: @justrepostandlove @gasplaughgasp @canonismybitch @shadedrose01 @baloobird @whatisawilltolive @a-liddell-alice @you-know-i-larb-you-3000 @hold-our-destiny @lyssismagical @spideygirl2003 @make-the-stars-stay @pj-hermes-tonystark-obsessed @iron-loyalty

Peter sits on the dock, watching the water gently lap against the rocks that make up the shore of the lake. His feet are under the water, which is warm in the summer heat, and he gently kicks his feet back and forth. The light of the setting sun glares across the water, dying the blue brilliant reds and oranges.

Peter lets out a long breath, inhaling the humid air.

Everything is so different now. Tony has a wife and a kid. He was dead for five years. People that were his age are now almost out of college. And to him, it felt like the blink of an eye. He was disappearing and then he wasn’t. He was alone on a strange planet, being called to fight a war he didn’t know was happening.

Five years.

It doesn’t seem real.

Peter looks down at the water and the sunset’s reflection. At least this is the same. The lake house is new, but the feeling of water against his skin isn’t, the feeling of the sun isn’t. This is how Peter is dealing with this, finding things that are the same, things that didn’t move on without him. He finds comfort in the water hitting the rocks and the fish swimming beneath him. With his back to the lake house, Peter can pretend that everything is normal.

Peter takes another deep breath.

He hears feet pad behind him and then someone lowers themselves to sit beside him. Peter doesn’t have to turn his head to know that it’s Tony. With his enhanced hearing, Peter hears the whirring and humming of his metal arm.

Neither of them says anything for a moment.

“Pepper and I have to go into the city tomorrow,” Tony tells him. “I want you to watch Morgan but if you’re not comfortable with that I can always get Rhodey or Happy to.”

Peter shakes his head, “I can do it.” He looks down at his feet before looking over at Tony. “You really trust me with her?”

Tony looks at him like he’s the dumbest person on the planet, “Of course I do. Who else could I trust my daughter more with than her brother?”

Peter’s heart lurches in his chest, “...Brother?”

“Yeah, Pete,” Tony laughs. “Why do you think Morgan’s been hanging off your arm since you got here? She’s been hearing about her brother since she was born.”

“You told her about me?” Peter asks.

“God, of course, kid,” Tony wraps his arm around Peter and brings him into a side hug. “The little miss couldn’t fall asleep without a bedtime story about her favorite superhero. Her favorite one was always Spiderman and Iron Man teaming up to save the day.” Peter smiles softly. Tony looks Peter up and down. “Tell me what you’re thinking.”

“I always wanted a sister.”

Tony smiles, “Well you got one now. And it’s your job to babysit her tomorrow, got it?” Peter nods. “Pepper and I are leaving before you guys wake up, but we should get home at seven or eight. If you need anything call Happy or Rhodey.”

“Okay.”

Tony kisses Peter’s temple, “I love you.

“Love you too.” Peter lets himself relax into the embrace as the words settle over him. Since waking up in the hospital, Tony has said those words to Peter over and over again, hugging him close, kissing his head. Peter can’t deny that he loves the shift in their relationship.

...

The next morning Peter wakes up to something slamming into his chest. He wakes up with a gasp only to see Morgan sitting on top of him, her head tilted curiously to the side. Her hair is all a mess from sleep and she’s wearing spiderman pajamas. Peter smiles at that.

“Morning,” Peter greets the girl as he sits up, blearily rubbing his eyes.

Morgan smiles at him, “Will you make me breakfast?”

“What do you want? I know how to make eggs or pancakes.” To no one’s surprise, Morgan chooses pancakes, taking Peter by the hand and practically dragging him down the stairs. While Peter cooks, he sits Morgan on the counter away from the heat. She kicks her legs against the cabinets as she talks.

Peter listens as she rambles on and on about movies and cartoons that he’s never heard of, people he’s never met, and things he doesn’t understand. But he doesn’t tell her that. He doesn’t tell her about the sinking feeling in his stomach as he is reminded once again of everything he missed in the blink of an eye.

“Petey?” Morgan cocks her head to the side and looks at her brother. “Are you okay?”

Peter forces air into his lungs and nods, “I’m fine.” Tony trusts him to watch his daughter, he can’t have a panic attack in front of her. “You wanna help me add the chocolate chips?”

Morgan nods eagerly and lets Peter pick her up.

Once breakfast is done, Peter sits Morgan down on the couch to watch some cartoons while he takes a shower. He lets the water run over him and he takes a deep breath, he’s babysitted for his neighbors dozens of times, it’s not any different with Morgan. Sure she’s his childhood hero’s kid and also his sister, but that doesn’t matter, Peter tries to convince himself. After showering, he lets Morgan convince him to watch tv with her.

“What do you want to do today?” Peter asks her during a commercial break.

Morgan looks up at him with pleading eyes, “Can we go out on the lake? Mommy and daddy haven’t taken me in forever.”

“Sure thing, peanut.”

Peter went to summer camp as a kid, he knows how to kayak so he doesn’t see a problem in sitting Morgan on his lap as he paddles. It’s just after lunch now so the sun beats down their necks. Peter paddles until the kayak sits in the middle of the lake. He rests the paddle across the boat and lets it drift. Morgan leans over the side of the boat, dragging her fingers through the soft water. “Be careful,” Peter warns her gently.

“Look, Petey!” Morgan points excitedly at something out of Peter’s sight. Curiously, he shifts towards where Morgan is and peers over the edge. Seeing nothing, Peter leans even further over the side. He sees what she’s pointing at, a rock glistening in the sunlight.

Peter is just about to say something to her when the boat flips over, dumping Peter and Morgan into the lake. Peter tries to grab a hold of Morgan, but he can’t grab her in time. She slips from his grasp and he loses sight of her as he squeezes his eyes shut on instinct.

Peter resurfaces, gasping for air. He looks around quickly but doesn’t see Morgan until he catches sight of her pink swimsuit under the water. Peter doesn’t hesitate to take a deep breath and dive under. He snags the little girl around the waist and drags her up. He dumps her into the kayak before climbing back in himself.

Peter looks down at Morgan desperately, her eyes are closed and he can hear a low wheeze as she breathes. Then all of a sudden her eyes spring open and she coughs roughly, spewing water from her mouth.

“We’re okay,” Peter assures her tensely. He rubs her back as she finishes coughing up water. Guilt and pain run through Peter’s arms as Morgan climbs into his lap and cries. Shame boils under his skin. His only job is to keep Morgan safe and he failed.

Morgan clings to Peter’s front, crying into his chest as he picks up the paddle with shaking hands and starts to row back towards the house. Once he ties up the boat, Peter picks Morgan up, holding her gently as she’s still crying.

What Peter figures happened to her is that when she fell out of the kayak, she hit her back on the big rock, and got the wind knocked out of her, causing her to forcibly inhale a mouthful of water. He guesses that that causes her to panic and take more water into her lungs before Peter pulled her up.

His heart is pounding in his chest. Tony is never going to trust him with his daughter ever again, she nearly drowned because Peter was too dumb to remember to grab a life jacket. Morgan’s cries have stopped by the time Peter gently nudges her to change her clothes. He does the same, walking into the guest- his bedroom and quickly stripping off his wet clothes.

His phone is sitting on the bed and he picks it up and calls Tony. He doesn’t answer. Then he tries Pepper. Nothing.

Peter is near tears. Why did Tony think leaving him alone with Morgan would be a good idea? Why did they trust him with their only daughter?

When he walks into the hallway, Morgan is waiting for him. She reaches for him and he is quick to scoop her into his arms and walk down to the living room. “I’m sorry, peanut,” Peter tells her. “I-I’m going to call someone else to watch you, okay?”

“No!” Morgan shakes her head quickly and hugs Peter.

“Mo, I have to call your parents and let them know what happened. I’m going to call Uncle Happy over to come take care of you.”

“No!” Morgan protests again, she shakes her head and holds him even tighter. With one hand, Morgan takes Peter’s phone and tosses it across the room.

“Morgan!” Peter gasps. He moves to go grab it, but Morgan pins him to the couch and doesn’t let him move.

Peter holds his little sister in his arms for what feels like hours. At one point, Peter grabs them some food and tries to get his phone, but once again, Morgan doesn’t let him. Morgan sits completely on top of her, her chest against his.

Peter doesn’t even feel himself zone out, he just snaps back into reality when the front door swings open. Pepper and Tony rush towards him with worried faces. Peter’s eyes well with tears at the lecture he knows is going to come. They’re going to kick him out and never want to see him again.  

Pepper lifts Morgan out of his arms and whisks her away upstairs, leaving a pale Peter with Tony.

“What happened, buddy?” Tony asks gently.

Peter sniffs, wiping away his tears, “I took her out on the boat without a life jacket and we both fell in and she breathed in so much water and I-” Peter sobs, leaning into his hands. “I-I tried to call someone but you didn’t answer and she didn’t let me call anyone else and I should have taken her to a doctor. I-I’m sorry.” Peter moves away from the comforting hand Tony puts on his shoulder. He doesn’t deserve it. “You trusted me with her and I let her on the lake without a life jacket and she could have drowned. I-I understand if you don’t want me to be here anymore-”

“Stop,” Tony shakes his head. Peter shuts his mouth quickly, waiting for Tony to shout and scream and reprimand him. But it doesn’t come. Instead Tony envelopes him in a tight hug, crushing his head into his chest. “Are you okay?”

Peter’s breath hitches as he takes a breath. He can’t find room in his throat to speak so he just shakes his head and cries into Tony’s shoulder.

“Shh…” Tony soothes. “You’re okay. Morgan’s okay. Everything’s fine.”

Peter shakes his head, “I-I let her get hurt. I let you down.”

“She’s not hurt,” Tony says, “a little shaken up, but she’s okay, thanks to you. Peter, there is only one other person I trust more with my daughter and that is my wife. I don’t blame you, Pete.”

“You should.”

“We all make mistakes,” Tony rubs his back. “If I had a dollar for every mistake I’ve made with Morgan I could buy the state of New York.” Peter chokes out a laugh. “You are not a bad person or a bad brother for making one mistake.”

“Thank you.” Peter lets himself be smothered by Tony’s hug.

[xxx-cat-xxx]

we’re collecting dust (but our love’s enough)

Have a little bittersweet Pepperony & Ironfam fic. As always, thanks to @whumphoarder for beta reading!

_________________

And here’s the thing about getting old: it’s marked by an ever-rising contrast between the good days and the bad days. On good days, Tony can still spend hours tinkering in the garage or playing ball with Peter’s eight-year-old son, Ben, down by the lake.

But on bad days, when phantom pain is hijacking all of his senses (despite the fact that two decades have passed now since that final battle), putting on the prosthesis is out of the question—as is getting down the stairs from the master bedroom.

And on the really bad days, his joints are so stiff that he’s barely able to lift his one remaining arm high enough to bring his migraine medication up to his lips.

“Pep?” Tony croaks, hating the weakness that’s echoing back at him. He’s not sure if she’s even close enough to hear him, but he trusts FRIDAY to relay the message that his wife is needed.

It takes her longer than it used to, but then Pepper is by his side, putting an arm behind his back in a practiced motion to help him sit up a little more. He bites back a groan when the change in elevation only increases the stabbing pain behind his right eye.

“Open your mouth,” she directs, firmly but warmly, before placing the pills on his tongue and bringing the water glass to his lips so he can take a sip. He loves her for the lack of pity in her eyes, for her focus on the practicalities of caring, for the calmness masking her worry― although none of that is surprising. Hell, they’ve been through far worse than the thunderstorms in his head.

Pepper adds a heating pad to the collection of pillows propping him up and pats it with an inviting gesture. Wincing, he lies back down, then curls onto his side, pulling his legs up to his stomach.

“Here, just in case.” Pepper puts a trash can next to the bed, freshly lined in order to avoid the smell making his nausea any worse. Tony really hopes he won’t throw up the pills he just took, but the possibility is definitely there.

“You’re the best, Miss Potts” he mumbles, and only then realises that this particular nickname is already a few decades too old.

“Get some sleep, Tony.” She brushes a kiss on his forehead and gently shuts his eyes with her palm. He opens them again the moment she’s left the room, unable to find rest just yet.

With difficulty, Tony turns onto his other side so that the photos on the nightstand come into view. Morgan and her girlfriend Riri with their surfboards at Malibu beach, the sunset bathing them in a warm, almost otherworldly light. Peter and Ben, who is sitting on Rhodey’s lap in the wheelchair and laughing at someone behind the camera. Happy and May, arm in arm and a little drunk on the evening of their tenth anniversary.

Tony keeps looking at the photos until the drugs kick in and they turn blurry in front of his eyes while he finally drifts off.

*

It’s early evening when he wakes again, his head still throbbing and his body tired, but feeling miles better than earlier. The house is quiet and Pepper is nowhere to be seen. Tony lies still for a moment, marvelling at the simple fact that he is able to form comprehensive thoughts without feeling like his brain is being eaten alive.

After a while, he’s able to sit up on his own and slowly make his way to the bathroom. He uses the toilet and brushes his teeth to get rid of the stale taste in his mouth. Then he has to hold on to the basin for a while because he starts to feel lightheaded from being on his feet for a phenomenal five full minutes. Finally it passes, and he washes his face with cold water to get his blood pressure back to a more reasonable level.

When he looks up, there’s an old man staring back at him from the mirror, rumpled grey hair and an even greyer beard. He bears a vague resemblance to Howard Stark―Howard Stark if someone had tried to melt away half of his face.

The snap has left a long-term toll, and not just in the gruesome scars all over his body. Tony had a stroke last summer, after which he’d temporarily lost the movement in his one remaining arm and was drooling for weeks, and he’s already on his second pacemaker this year. Not that he’s complaining―better to be old than dead, thank you very much―but some things really just suck. He stares at the mirror image a moment longer and then sticks out his tongue at it, content to see that this makes him stop looking like Howard.

“Tony?” He flinches when he hears Pepper’s voice from downstairs, though she doesn’t sound like Pepper at all. Her tone is scared, almost desperate. “Where are you?”

“Hon-” he stops to clear his scratchy throat and tries again. “Honey, I’m up here!”

Her footsteps run up the staircase and he turns around to see her enter, dressed in her favourite light blue summer dress, the long hair cascading down over her shoulders.

“Tony?” she asks again, breathing hard. Then she takes him in and relief blooms on her face. He registers the tears on her cheek and automatically raises his good hand to wipe them away.

“What happened?” he asks softly. But he already knows.

Closing her eyes, she leans into his touch. “I was in the garden,” she starts. “I was, I think I was watering the sunflowers, and then, for a second, I―I didn’t know. Where I was. Where everyone was.”

“Oh Pep,” he sighs, wrapping his arm around her and pulling her close. It’s not the first time this has happened, but all the other times she’s been inside the house where FRIDAY could help her make sense of the situation and get back to reality quickly. “How long were you out there?”

“I don’t know,” Pepper mumbles. “I thought―I thought it was a park, maybe? That I was back at my parents’ place and went out for a walk. But then I saw Morgan’s little house and remembered.” She takes a shaky breath. “God, Tony, it’s all such a mess.”

“You’re alright,” he whispers, and then, knowing it’s not herself she is scared about, he adds, “I’m here. Morgan and Riri are flying around the world somewhere. Peter is in Queens—it’s his weekend with Ben. They might be visiting Happy and May just now. Rhodey is… I don’t actually know where Rhodey is right now, but he’s fine. Everyone’s doing okay.”

“I know,” she mumbles, pulling away. “Now I remember.”

“Good. That’s good, Pep. It was just―a glitch. A tiny glitch in your memory.” He forces a smile and shifts a bit of his weight against the doorframe, his legs suddenly feeling weak.

Pepper, of course, catches on to that. “How's your headache?” She seems to have caught herself, but he wonders whether she remembers his migraine or just guessed it from the situation. “Why are you up?”

“Had to pee. But I’m better, promise.” She looks at him critically, and he adds, “Just won't be up for anything demanding for the rest of the day.”

“That’s fine.” She runs her hands through her hair, combing it with her fingers before tying it up in a bun, her way of reasserting control. “You should go back to bed. I’ll fix us something light to eat.”

Tony doesn’t like the idea of leaving her alone right now, but making it down the stairs to the kitchen seems... challenging. But he’s already got a better idea. “Actually, I was thinking of taking a bath. Getting a little ripe,” he jokes. “Will you help me wash my hair?”

It's always good to give her something easy to do when the dementia is playing tricks on her, something to busy her hands and distract her mind.

“Uh-huh.” She looks right through him, then sighs a little. “Sure. Why not.”

There used to be a time after Afghanistan when Tony couldn’t have set foot in a bathtub if an army had forced him to. He avoided them the same way he avoided caves and, later, endless night skies or Sci-Fi movies with wormholes. It was only Peter’s immense disappointment over not being able to watch the fourth Star Trek movie together that finally pushed him into seeing the counsellor who helped him get a grip on some of this.

(Almost starving in space, Peter’s five-year disappearance and Pepper’s pregnancy might have also played a role, but hey, saying you started therapy to be able to watch Leonard Nimoy in a bathrobe saving whales makes for better dinner table jokes).

Either way, he’s glad that his bath-o-phobia is mostly cured now, because their lakehouse tub is plain amazing, and not having to stand to shower on days like these is a blessing.

The hot water and the essential oils Pepper added to it do wonders for Tony’s aching body. He breathes in the steam that reminds him of expensive spas on New York’s winter days. Pepper has turned her back towards him, organising the already neat collection of tubes and bottles on the counter. Unimpressed with the solemnity of the scene, he playfully splashes some water at her. She turns towards him and smiles, but it doesn’t reach her eyes. Tony could tell from a mile away that she’s still shaken.

Time for plan B.

“Will you join me, honey?” Drawing out the last word, he blinks his eyelashes up at her seductively, which finally makes her laugh for real.

“Well, Mr Stark, if you’re asking like that…” The dress slides down her shoulders and collects around her feet, and her undergarments quickly follow. She glides inside the tub more gracefully than should be legal for anyone over sixty, and, copying him, flicks some water onto his nose.

Ignoring the perfect opportunity for a water fight, Tony extends his arm and pulls her close to his chest, taking in her wrinkled skin and the roots of grey in her ginger hair where the dye has grown out. She intertwines her legs with his and lets her weight, minimised by the water, be borne fully by his body. Her cheek comes to rest on the soft spot between his collarbones. She is moving up and down in rhythm with his breaths, creating tiny ripples on the surface of the water, and he holds her tighter, ever tighter.

Pepper readjusts her position and runs her hand down from his neck, to his stomach, and back up again. He responds with a kiss to the top of her forehead and then starts tracing the outline of her breast with his index finger. She stops to look down at them critically. “Not really what they used to be.”

“Still better than what I have to offer,” he deadpans. At this point, his chest is basically one big scar tissue. “And personally, I’m still a fan of them. It. All of it.”

He can hear her smile in the way she lets her breath out through her nose.

They stay like that for a while, Tony feeling the tension bleed out of his body, the pounding of his temples ease a little, and his eyes slowly falling shut again.

“I was so scared,” Pepper suddenly admits into his collarbones. He feels drops of water trickle down his neck and knows she’s crying even before she sniffles quietly.

“I know,” he says quietly. “But it will be alright, love.”

“Will it, though?” she asks, ever-critically, ever-questioning. Too many of his promises have shattered before her eyes for her to blindly believe him now, so he doesn’t make her any new ones, doesn’t talk about the world-renowned team of scientists he already hired when the first symptoms showed themselves, about the devices he’s working on down in his garage. She already knows all of that. It’s not what she needs to hear right now.

Instead, he swallows hard and says, “Pep, listen. We’ll get through this too. And if… whatever will happen. I'll be there.” What he doesn’t say out loud is what she already knows from how tight he’s holding on to her:

I won’t give you up without a fight.

“I know,” she whispers. Then she takes a deep breath before untangling herself from his embrace. “So, are we going for the anti-dandruff shampoo or can I use something that won’t make you smell like coconut?”

Tony positively purrs while Pepper massages the shampoo into his scalp. “Close your eyes and mouth,” she commands when she tilts his head back before starting the shower. And a laugh bursts out of Tony, because this is the same tone she used to use on Morgan when washing her hair, and in response their daughter would screw her eyes shut and bite her lips so tight in such concentration that her whole face scrunched up with it.

“What’s so funny?” Pepper asks, so Tony, not one to admit to nostalgia, just twists the showerhead out of her grasp to point it back at her, finally getting himself that water fight.

*

After drying off and pulling on a fresh pair of pajamas, Tony is put back to bed with his tablet and a promise that Pepper will join after making pasta. He checks his email, then sets the tablet aside and gets back up to open the window. He lets his eyes wander to the garden and lake that are just visible in the last rays of daylight.

Sometimes, on bad days, he cynically wonders what will give out first: his broken body or Pepper’s battered mind. But on good days, that's not what counts. They might have months, or years; if things go great, they might even have another decade. Tony has long, long ago started to regard every additional day in his life as something he doesn’t have a right to, and sworn to himself to use them to the best of his ability. That’s what it comes down to, in the end. He and Pepper will do what they have always done―simply keep going as long as they can.

“Hey, old man.” Pepper is standing in the doorway, holding out a bowl of blueberries. “I picked them earlier in the garden―forgot all about them. You want some?”

“Sure.” He turns around to fully look at her. “I'd love to.”

_________________

I hope you liked it! Credit for the idea of Riri Williams and Morgan Stark getting together goes to @fuzzydeergirlart‘s wonderful art (or at least that’s where I go the idea from). 

All my fics

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Home Lives With You-Part 6

Title: Home Lives With You. Pairings: Steve x Tony Part: 6/? Warnings: swearing, fluff, angst, blood, abuse (physical and verbal), ptsd, anxiety, bullying Summary: Peter’s been living with the abusive Thompson family for years, it was the only family in the system that would take him. When Steve and Tony get a phone call from the social worker who introduced them to their daughter Morgan for an emergency placement, they feel like they must pay back the favor. But are Steve and Tony taking on more than they can handle, and will Peter be able to adjust to a warm and welcoming family home? A/N: Another long one lol, next part should be up in the next couple of days. hope you enjoy!

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5

When they’d gotten back from the mall Morgan had claimed that she was tired and had gone to bed for a nap. Steve and Tony had helped Peter set up his room, making his bed and hanging up his new clothes and setting up his lamps. Peter was still bewildered that he owned all of these things and then Tony had handed him the phone.

“almost forgot about this.” he joked and Peter stared at the sleek back screen, unsure of what to do with it. he didn’t really need a phone, there wasn’t really anyone other than Rhodey who he could call. And the only reason he’d ever called Rhodey was so that he could get out of the Thompson’s house. He’d called less and less over the last couple years, had stopped checking to see if anyone had been interested in adopting him. There was only so many ways Rhodey could tell Peter that no one wanted teenagers without actually saying that no one wanted teenagers. But the amount of almost calls to Rhodey that Peter had almost made, there must have been thousands of those. Times when he’d sat there in the dark and cold basement, curled up in a ball and clutching the phone, debating whether to call. Would it be better if he called? Worse? Usually it was worse, Rhodey didn’t have good news for him usually. Usually Peter would just be told to hold on for a few more days while Rhodey tried to pull him out.

“I really don’t need this sir.” Peter said, holding the phone out to Tony. But the man just shook his head, turning towards the stack of textbooks on Peter’s desk.

“you said there was a physics test coming up?” Peter nodded his head, dread filling his gut.

“unfortunately. I’m not really that good at physics either.” Usually it pissed Peter off.

“Want some help studying?” Peter nodded, heat creeping onto his cheeks.

“Yeah actually, that’d be great sir.” Peter wasn’t sure which name Tony preferred, he’d never really commented on it. so Peter was using them interchangeably, hoping that Tony really didn’t mind.

“Alright let’s get started then.”

-

Steve was checking the emails when he saw an email from one Mrs Susan White.

PTA.

“Tony!” he called and made his way upstairs, finding Tony in Peter’s room on the bed, hands moving as he spoke.

“Yes dear?”

“What’s this?” Steve held out the phone and Tony got to his feet, crossing the room to read the message.

“I joined the PTA.”

“Why?”

“am I not allowed to get involved with Peter’s school?” he asked and gave Steve an innocent smile. But the look in Tony’s eyes was anything but innocent. Peter watched them both nervously and Steve shook his head.

“Can you help me with dinner for five minutes sweetheart?” Steve asked and Tony only hesitated for a moment.

“Peter I’ll be back in a second alright?” he said but didn’t dare take his eyes off of Steve.

“Okay?” Peter sounded confused but Steve didn’t wait any longer, just marched back downstairs with his troublemaking husband trailing after him.

“What have you been plotting?” Steve asked once they reached the kitchen.

“Nothing.” Steve glared at Tony who sighed.

“This have anything to do with the Thompson’s?” Steve asked and grabbed out the chicken from the fridge.

“Maybe.”

“We can’t seek revenge on the Thompson’s Tony.” Steve said and Tony crossed his arms.

“you saw what they did to him Stevie, I’m just trying to right the wrongs.” Steve shook his head and Tony got out a chopping board.

“That’s not our job. We can talk to Rhodey and take the Thompson’s to court. I don’t know what you were planning on doing with the PTA but I want it to stop. We can’t put Peter through anything more.” Steve insisted and Tony sighed.

“can I at least make your mother’s brownies to put Rose Thompson to shame?” Tony asked, eyes wide and puppy like.

“I love you and I’m sorry to deprive you of this, but no. I will not let you use my mother’s brownies as a revenge plot.” Steve kissed the top of Tony’s head and Tony wrapped his arms around Steve’s torso.

“Why do you have to be such a party pooper?” Tony asked in a pouty voice and a laugh rumbled through Steve.

“you can still make brownies though, don’t forget we have Bucky and Nat coming over on Saturday.” Tony nodded his head and perked up a bit.

“Maybe we could teach Peter?” Steve smiled, a light blossoming inside of his chest.

“I’d really like that.” He admitted and Tony stood up on tip toes so he could press his lips against Steve’s.

“Thank you for making dinner, but I have to help Pete study for his physics test. I promise I won’t plot anything for at least another week.” Steve rose a brow.

“You sure you’ll be able to last that long?” Tony stuck his tongue out at Steve and then pulled away. Steve turned back to dinner, he liked the idea of teaching Peter how to make his mother’s brownies. They were the brownies that had won over Tony’s heart, maybe it would make Peter feel closer to them, make him feel like he was part of the family.

-

The week seemed to fly by for Peter, and he was finding himself fall into a routine. Which made him nervous, because that meant he was getting comfortable here. But then, he was going to be here for three months, so maybe it was okay if he got comfortable, cautiously comfortable. But before Peter knew it, it was Friday afternoon. He had to babysit Morgan tonight, and he was excited to get to hang out with her. But when Peter got to the parking lot, Tony’s car was nowhere in sight. He did a couple laps, just to be sure, but couldn’t find it. oh. Peter thought, suddenly deflating. He should have seen this coming. It had been stupid of him to think that he’d get consistent rides back to the house. So Peter started walking, he’d be late and they’d be mad if he hung around any longer. He only had four more week until summer break, and then he’d just be able to hang around at the house all the time. Clean the house. Peter corrected, he needed to start to repay the Stark-Rogers. He was about twenty minutes into the walk home when there was a car honking at him. He turned, hope flaring in his chest, and then deflated as he recognised the vehicle before him.

“Penis?” Flash asked, rolling down the window and raising a brow. Please no. Peter’s eyes moved from Flash to his father who was sitting in the driver’s seat, scowling.

“Peter.” His low deep voice rumbled from the car and Peter inhaled sharply.

“Hello sir.” His hands began to shake at his sides, he couldn’t run they’d just catch up to him.

“why don’t you get inside the car? I can take you home.” His voice was tight, Peter shook his head.

“No thank you sir, I could use the walk.” Peter lied and he narrowed his eyes.

“that wasn’t a request Peter.” Peter’s throat bobbed, his heart was pounding and mind racing. He needed to figure something out, and fast.

“I’m going to have to respectfully decline the offer, sir.” The phone in Peter’s pocket sat like a deadweight. All week he’d been trying to work up the courage to ask for Tony and Steve’s number, but every time the words had died in his throat. Mr Thompson curled his lip and Peter inhaled sharply, if there was ever a time to run, now would have been it. he was just about to do so when Tony’s car pulled up behind Mr Thompson’s, honking at him. Peter nearly collapsed with relief and then he was running to Tony’s car. He got in, slammed the door shut and locked it for good measure.

“Pete?” Tony asked but Peter just stared straight ahead, preying that Mr Thompson wouldn’t get out of his car.

“Can we just go please sir?”

-

It was the high whine in Peter’s voice that concerned Tony the most.

“Sure Petey.” He murmured and Peter glanced at him, a faint smile on his lips. Tony pulled away from the curb and glanced over to the man who had been driving the car, a scowl deeply set on his face.

“Who were you talking to?” Tony asked and Peter sank down low into his seat.

“No one sir, may I take a shower when we get back to your house sir?” Tony nodded, hands gripping the steering wheel a little tighter.

“Of course Pete.” And then the car was filled up with nothing but silence, even Morgan and her friend Penelope hadn’t dared to say a word.

-

Steve had told Tony time and time again that he was not allowed to plot anything against the Thompson’s. each time Steve said no, Tony would roll his eyes and nod. But as Steve tied his tie, and Tony told him about the car incident, Steve was starting to rethink this whole revenge plot thing.

“Are you sure it was the Thompson’s?” Steve asked and Tony nodded, stepping forward to fix Steve’s crooked tie.

“he was on edge the whole way home. He looked so relieved when I pulled up…” Tony trailed off and Steve nodded.

“We can talk to him about it when we get home tonight, do you want to give him the money for the pizza?” Steve asked and Tony nodded, stepping back.

“here, you talk to him.” Steve nodded, taking the money and making his way down to Peter’s room. He was sitting on his bed, staring down at his new phone with a frown on his face.

“Pete?” Steve said, knocking and leaning on the door frame.

“hey Mr Stark Rogers.” Peter said, but Steve could see that something was wrong. he seemed withdrawn, tense, and it broke Steve’s heart.

“I’m just dropping off the money for tonight, you can get whatever you want. Morgan and Penny might twist your arm to get a cookie but we’ve got ice cream in the freezer.” Peter nodded his head, still not removing his eyes from his phone.

“okay, thanks sir.” Steve winced and stepped into the room, dropping the money on his desk.

“Are you alright?” Peter nodded but still wouldn’t look at Steve.

“was it the Thompson’s in that other car?” he didn’t move at first, but then his head lifted and his eyes met Steve’s.

“he wanted me to get in his car and I don’t know what I would’ve done if Mr Stark Rogers hadn’t shown up in time.” Peter’s voice was hoarse and Steve sat down on the bed beside Peter, pulling him to his chest.

“it’s going to be alright Petey, he’s never going to hurt you ever again.” Steve promised and Peter nodded his head as Steve stroked his hair. Once again Steve was filled with anger, he’d make the Thompson’s pay for this. it was bullshit that a sixteen year old was so traumatised, all because of those assholes.

“I was wondering if I could have your phone numbers sir? Just in case I need your help?” his voice trembled with each word and Steve inhaled sharply.

-

He was asking for too much and he knew it. but for the first time Peter felt like he could depend on someone, like there were people he could rely on. But he pulled out of Steve’s embrace turning his face away and heart shattering inside of his chest.

“Actually don’t worry about it, I’ll be fine.” Peter said all too quickly, staring at the wall. But then he could hear clicking and when he turned back Steve was typing a number into his phone.

“that’s Tony’s, you can add a photo later.” Steve said then pressed a few more buttons, he then opened up the camera, sticking out his tongue, puffing out his cheeks and making his eyes cross. Peter couldn’t help but crack a smile.

“Don’t make me regret taking that Pete.” Steve joked and Peter nodded, relief flooding his veins.

“Thank you Mr Stark Rogers.” And Steve nodded, patting Peter’s leg twice before standing up.

“Well Tony and I should get going, we’ll be home late unfortunately but if you send me a text now I can let you know when we’re coming home.” Peter nodded, glad that Steve hadn’t rejected him.

“Thank you Mr Stark Rogers.” Peter repeated and Steve nodded before exiting his room. In the hall, Peter saw Tony walk up to Steve in a suit, they were wearing matching blue ties.

“Looking good sweetheart.” Steve said with a faint smile on his lips.

“I know, I know, uber’s outside,” Tony turned and winked at Peter. “Bye Pete.” And then they were gone. Peter looked back at his phone and at the photo of Steve, warmth blossoming in his chest. Maybe if he kept this up, babysitting Morgan and if he helped out around the house, maybe if he was good enough, they’d keep him around for longer than three months.

-

When they arrived the party was as boring as Steve had predicted. They made the rounds, saying hello to Tony’s co-workers and Steve gave everyone polite smiles but no conversation was made with him. The first seven or eight people Steve tried to talk to, but it was clear that no one had any interest in talking to Steve.

“You doing okay?” Tony asked once they were finally alone for a moment of peace.

“Well you just know how much I love these things.” Steve grumbled and Tony pouted.

“I know honey, but it’s only a few more hours.” Tony promised and Steve nodded.

“I know.” He could feel the eyes on him, sense the thoughts running through their heads. Tony made a lot of money in this job with the numbers and it was clear that everyone here thought Steve was nothing more than some dumb blonde who had punched well above his payrate. He’d been lucky to have Tony fall in love with him, even luckier when Tony had accepted Steve’s proposal. But no one saw Steve the way Tony did, and Steve hated these things for that reason.

“just think of all the ice cream we can eat when we get home.” Tony murmured and Steve nodded, a smile tugging at his lips.

“fine. And I spoke to Peter, it was the Thompson’s in the other car.” Tony scrunched up his face, his lips curling.

“we’re going to have to call Rhodey tomorrow about this.” Tony said and Steve nodded.

“yeah, god I just hope we can adopt him.” Tony nodded his head, his face softening.

“Me too.”

“He’s just such a good kid and I find myself getting more and more attached each day.” Tony nodded taking Steve’s hand and squeezing.

“I feel the same. But we do have to be careful, Rhodey hasn’t given us the all clear.” Steve gritted his teeth. That he didn’t want to think about.

“Tony!” they turned at the sound of Tony’s boss’ voice. Nicky Fury himself stood before them, smile a little too wide.

“Hey boss.” And then Nick turned to the man beside him, smile widening even more.

“This is my good friend Harrison Thompson.” Tony’s face said it all, went a shade too white, his smile vanishing and his hands curling into fists.

“You were Peter’s old foster.” Tony said instantly and Harrison nodded his head.

“That is correct, how is Peter doing? My wife, Rose, and I miss him so much i-“ one second Steve was holding Tony’s hand and listening, the next second there was an awful crunch and Harrison’s body falling to the floor.

“Steve!” but Steve was on the man in an instant. A rage he hadn’t felt since he’d been in the military rose within him, as his mind flashed back to the gash in Peter’s side and all the bruises on his body. The cuts, the broken ribs, the trauma. It all fuelled Steve’s rage.

Crack.

Steve’s fists were bleeding but he couldn’t stop and then there were hands on him, pulling him up and away. Steve tried to fight against the security guards but their hold was tight and they escorted him out of the building.

-

Peter had walked into Morgan’s room, ready to ask what she wanted for dinner but only to find her crying.

“Miss what’s wrong?”

“Penny’s says she wants to go home and I don’t know her mom’s number and-“ Peter’s eyes widened and his heart hammered in his chest.

“why does she want to go home miss?” Peter asked and looked to the other little girl who was facing the wall.

“she says she’s bored.” Peter rose his brows, looking around the room and spotting the dolls.

“Why don’t you play dolls.”

“dolls are for babies.” Penelope said and Peter bit his lip, Morgan visibly more upset by that statement.

“No they’re not, I’m sixteen and I know plenty of girls who still play dolls.” Peter lied and Penelope turned from the wall, scowling.

“Like who?” crap.

“MJ.” Peter blurted out of nowhere.

“really?” Peter nodded, hoping that this little kid didn’t actually know MJ.

“totally, and your mom is picking you up in three hours anyway.” Peter said and the girls both perked up a bit.

“Okay.” Peter nodded, fiddling with the cash in his hand.

“What pizza do you want?” he asked and the girls shared a mischievous glance.

“Hawaiian pizza and cookies!” they cried in unison and Peter rose a brow. Steve had warned him of this.

“Really? Well I’ll get the Hawaiian pizza, and if you two behave you might get some ice cream.” They both nodded eagerly, caving into Peter’s offer. Peter grinned, feeling victorious and went downstairs so he could call the pizza place.

-

Tony was quiet for the first twenty minutes in the cab ride home, then he turned in his seat so he could look at Steve. The man was cradling his swollen hand, watching Tony nervously, guilt written all over his face. There was blood on his white shirt.

“So, Steven.” Steve gulped.

“I’m sorry.”

“For?”

“For embarrassing you in front of your co-workers.”

“and?”

“and for embarrassing your boss.”

“And?”

“and for ruining our night.”

“And?”

“and for not being able to last until cake.” Tony rose a brow and Steve clenched his teeth together.

“and?”

“I’m not going to apologise for hitting that asshole Tony.”

“that’s not what I’m mad about.” If he had been sorry then Tony would have been mad, he was glad that Steve wasn’t sorry. Honestly Tony wished he’d gotten to throw a punch.

“then what are you mad about?” Steve asked and Tony narrowed his eyes, leaning forward.

“we will not seek revenge on the Thompson’s Tony. You will not use my mother’s brownies as a part of your sinister plot Tony. We will be polite to the Thompson’s Tony. We will take the Thompson’s to court and sort things out there Tony.” Tony made his voice slightly deeper so he was mimicking Steve’s and Steve looked down at the floor.

“I’m sorry.” He whispered and Tony nodded, eyeing Steve’s hand.

“I forgive you.”

“I haven’t been that angry since…” Steve trailed off and Tony took his hand, he winced ever so slightly but held Tony’s hand back.

“the military?” Steve nodded, eyes glazing over.

“do you want to start seeing a therapist again?” Steve shuddered, shrugging.

“I don’t know. I thought I had this under control, but seeing that man and knowing what he had done to Peter.” Tony nodded, rubbing his spare hand between Steve’s shoulder blades.

“He had it coming Steve, I love you okay?” Steve’s head whipped towards Tony, tears in his eyes.

“How?” he whispered and Tony’s heart broke for Steve a little.

“because you are the kindest man I have ever known.” Tony whispered and leaned forward, brushing his lips against Steve’s.

“how can you say that after tonight?” Steve whispered, leaning his forehead against Tony’s.

“you beat up an abusive asshole, it’s a shame we’re going back home to our kids because I must admit that you are looking mighty fine right now Mr Stark Rogers.” Tony whispered and Steve quirked a brow.

“You don’t look so bad yourself.” Tony’s lips met Steve’s again and Steve deepened the kiss, the both of them melting into it. when they finally pulled back for air, Steve seemed to have calmed down a little.

“I love you Tony.” He whispered and Tony grinned.

“you’re such a dork Stevie.” He muttered, shaking his head but blushing anyway.

“and I’m sorry I ruined our night.” Tony turned back to Steve, a smile on his lips.

“Stevie you didn’t ruin anything. Watching you hit that guy was the most entertaining thing I’ve ever seen at those parties.” Tony promised and Steve nodded, his grip tightening on Tony’s hand ever so slightly.

“okay.” He whispered and tony nodded, but concern rolled through his gut. He could sense the anxiety rolling off of Steve in waves and Tony made a mental note to make some ice when they got home, just in case Steve had a panic attack.

-

Peter was halfway through a slice when the door opened and shut.

“we’re home!” Tony called out and then they appeared, Steve looking worse for wear.

“Daddy?” Morgan asked, eyeing the blood on Steve’s shirt.

“Daddy’s alright princess. Did Peter give you ice cream?” she nodded her head eagerly, the sugar high still hadn’t worn off.

“I’m guessing Penny’s gone?” Tony asked and again Morgan nodded eagerly.

“Yeah.”

“did you have fun?” Tony asked, grabbing out a bag of frozen peas.

“I guess. She said dolls were for babies but then Peter told us about his girlfriend and-“ Tony and Steve’s heads whipped towards Peter and his eyes widened. He finished chewing the pizza and swallowed, heart rate spiking.

“I don’t have a girlfriend.” He said and Morgan scowled.

“MJ, the one who plays with dolls?” Peter shook his head, this was why lying was bad. It always came back and bit you on the ass.

“She’s just a classmate, she is not my girlfriend.” Peter insisted and they nodded.

“If you say so.” Tony said and handed Steve the peas. That was when Peter saw how busted up Steve’s hands were.

“what happened?”

“We ran into Mr Thompson at the party and Steve lost his cool.” Peter’s brows rose and Steve hung his head in shame.

“Oh.”

“yeah oh.” Tony said pointedly and Peter eyes Steve’s hands again. He wondered what Flash would say at school on Monday.

“I’m sorry Peter but knowing what he did to you, I-“ Peter shook his head, unsure on how to feel.

“No it’s alright sir, you didn’t do anything wrong.” but then, why did Peter feel so icky on the inside?

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