Archive of Our Own ^beta

Peter had decided that May's new boyfriend was..interesting, to say the least.

He could cook, drive safely—was an alright gift-giver, and always would flash kind smiles and soft words of encouragement when he’d work on his chemistry homework at the kitchen table. Even helping him when he got stuck—who does that?!

He was normal, completely and utterly normal.

It..startled him.

Peter couldn't help but feel faintly unsettled by the fact that his aunt had finally snagged a ‘normie’ after all the weirdos she went through—and he was happy. He really was.

..

He supposed the only off thing about Tony was that he drank.

He always had a glass of something in his hand, and when he wasn’t staying the night, he tended to take an Uber and come to collect his car in the morning before heading to work.

It was weird, right?

Maybe he was overthinking it? Yeah. Maybe he just wanted to find something wrong with the man so he could feel a bit more akin to him. He was a bit weird, though he was a teenager encroaching on adulthood so he had a bit of an excuse, but still!

It was too good to be true, he thought as he pushed the key into the lock to open their front door, prepared for a lecture for being home late—but he’d missed the subway from Ned's house by a smidge and decided a walk might be good for him.

“I’m Home!” He called out into the unordinarily dim lit house, wondering if they’d already eaten dinner and turned in. Was tonight a night that Tony was staying over? Or had he already taken a Taxi?

Peter glanced down at his phone and cringed when he noticed it had died. 

“Peter? What took you so long?” Came May’s voice filled to the brim with concern.

“Both Tony and I tried calling you but it kept going straight to voicemail.”

Oh jeez, both of them tried to call? 

Peter cringed even more as he threw both of his hands up in defense once May turned the small corner of the hall. She was adorned in her regular pajamas—figures, though how late was it?

“How late is it? My phone died..I’m sorry I worried you both so much. I missed the subway and decided that walking might take less time.”

That was a lie, but he didn’t figure it really mattered since he’d made it home intact.

“It’s nearly 10 o’clock Peter!” May whisper yelled, bringing her manicured fingers to pinch the bridge of her nose for a moment before motioning back to the living room.

“Well, we’re just glad you’re back.”

Peter nodded and was about to ask if Tony was still here when May quickly spoke again, though more tired than usual.

 Are you hungry?”

“Yeah..dinner just in the fridge?” Peter asked, walking with his aunt through their small house to the kitchen to take a look at what was in store.

“Yep. It was just mexican. Tony brought it over.”

“Is Tony still here or did he leave already?”

A beat, then.

“May?”

May nodded as her eyes widened a bit, “Oh, Yeah Tony’s still here. He’s staying the night.” she murmured, rubbing a hand over her face and through her longer hair making Peter chuckle.

“You didn’t have to wait up for me you know.”

His aunt laughed at that, shaking her head and waving off his comment as if totally disregarding it.

“As if..well, we’re just in the living room. I’ll probably turn in soon—I’m not sure about Tony though. The man’s sleep schedule is in disarray at the moment because of work.”

Peter watched her go, and just as he turned to click the buttons on the microwave he heard the familiar higher pitched ‘ whoops ’ along with a deeper, much heavier ‘ sorry about that baby..i’ll be in there in a moment ’.

He sounded shit-faced.

Peter’s shoulders jumped a bit at close proximity to a body resting right beside him, digging around in the fridge for something chilled and..

A sudden hand was resting across his shoulder—pulling his body to the right before he thought anything of it and struggled to straighten himself enough to finally click the start button to begin the microwaving process.

“You have a little to drink tonight?” Peter cheekily asked, turning when Tony let go of his shoulder to pad across the kitchen to the trash can.

The trash bags, Peter found, had begun sounding distinctly of glass clinking together ever since the man began hanging about the place. It wasn’t that he minded or anything—but it had been something he had to get used to.

Peter eye’d the man in the dark setting of the kitchen with the only light seeping into the room coming from the doorway and the small time related kitchen appliance displays.

He couldn’t help but squint—noticing that Tony himself was wearing his own night-time apparel.

A t-shirt and boxers. How normal of you.

Peter tsked and couldn’t help crossing his arms.

“A bit.” Tony slurred around a hiccup, letting a sudden hand come down to rest across the side of his stomach—and since when did Tony have a beer belly?

It wasn’t the sort to win himself an award in some bar setting competition with half-naked woman in cow-boy hats officiating, but it was enough to be noticeable. To distend his t-shirt a bit—make him look softer that usual.

Fuller.

Peter damn near couldn’t tear his eyes away till he heard the man let out a grunt groan and yet another hiccup, followed by a belch behind his fist.

There was a silence as Tony swayed the liquid in the glass in front of him.

“How was school today?”

School??

He wanted to ask about his school day? Now??

Peter nearly let out an awkward laugh but refrained from doing so via the loud intrusive beeping from behind him, now turning around to click a few more numbers on the pad to start it up for another minute thirty.

“It went alright. I totally nailed my chem test thanks to that trick you taught me last week.”

“I think my teacher’s about near sick of writing A++ and ‘good work!’ on all my papers.” Peter continued with a cheerful tone.

Tony waved him off, swaying a bit in place till he was standing behind the island that Peter had put together a few months ago. Tony had been very adamant in needing more counter space for cooking—so when he came home with a box and a few tools, Peter had of course been tasked with making it stand.

It had been more fun than he expected, though by the end of the evening when Tony had had one too many—he’d started getting a bit playful with the smaller wood slabs.

Shaking at the embarrassing memory of his aunt and her boyfriend, Peter opened the microwave and turned to give Tony a glance when he spoke only to find that he now could see..

Peter’s throat ran dry at the view in front of him. Tony’s..he..

Swallowing and quickly averting his gaze back to the mexican food on his plate, Peter couldn’t help but curse himself for blushing from his aunt’s boyfriend's stuffed gut.

What was up with him tonight? Had his and Ned's conversation about celebrity crushes really done his mind in that bad? He tsked and began turning his food around while noting the steam wafting off if it, letting him know it was done.

“I doubt it. If I were a professor I’d pray nearly every night of summer that I'd get a student like you kid..’s not enough students like you out there Pete.”

Peter laughed after shutting the microwave and taking a bite of his food.

“Yeah right. I think I’d get bored after the third week.”

Tony shrugged in the dim lighting once more and brought his beer up to his lips, making Peter wish that he had never turned around in the first place.

Maybe he could suddenly go blind—at least till Tony left his general vicinity so then he could breath normally again.

“Mmph.. fuck.. ” Tony murmured from across the room nearly six feet away as he brought the bottle away from his lips for only a moment before going back for the rest.

The gulps were audible and loud even past the blood running through Peter’s ears.

Maybe he could go deaf too. Yeah. 

Peter’s cheeks flushed even more as his fork shook in his hand.

That would definitely be preferable to whatever strange purgatory this was.

“If you drink anymore I’d think you might pop Tony.” Peter choked out in the silence, lips dry and head clogged with fuzz.

Watching the man finish off the glass bottle, chuckling to himself and rubbing his hands across his stuffed, no doubt gurgling belly.

“Y’think?” Tony slurred, his eyes shining from the sudden lights from the window—a helicopter running overhead no doubt looking for the up and coming New York City criminal or rushing someone to the local hospital.

“Yeah I.. I do.” Peter said with a bit of authority, though it faltered in the presence of the older man even when he was drunk off his ass.

Tony hummed, lifting himself from his resting place against the island and letting a hand rub over his starkly sharp goatee.

“Good to know. Usually May’s asleep by the time I get this way—or I’m at my place.” Tony said matter of factly, letting out another burp past his sudden closed fist, “I just can’t stand to stop sometimes..but I will tonight if what you say is true.” The older man laughed, swaying a bit.

“I can’t say I’d wish to see your gut lining strewn about the place, so I appreciate it.” Peter muttered, taking yet another bite of his food to distract himself from this extremely awkward conversation. Anything but this, truly!

“Ha! Oh silly boy. I don’t think it’ll ever be my guts.” and before he could think to say anything else, waved Peter off and yawned, “I think we’re headed off to bed..but I hope the food is good and I’m glad to hear about those test grades.”

He was gone by the time Peter had the gaul to respond with more than a simple and meek “thank you” and “goodnight”.

As he flicked the light off in his bedroom and laid under his dark green duvet and sheets, he couldn’t help but think back to what had transpired in the kitchen.

It had been admittedly unnerving the way Tony’s eyes had watched him in the dim lighting—especially when the helicopter light had flashed by.

It wasn’t..and Peter couldn't believe he was about to say this but..

It wasn't normal.

— — — 

“Peter, could you hand me a beer from the fridge?” Tony called from the kitchen, knowing that May was in the shower and his hands were probably dirtied with flour by this point.

They were having fried chicken tonight believe it or not. Peter did always enjoy Tony’s home cooking.

“Yeah gimme a sec!” He returned, finishing up the final equation that he could accomplish completely, before stumbling up via the couch to hustle across the room into the open archway of the kitchen.

“Jeez Tony, a flour storm make its way through here?” Peter laughed out, motioning around the kitchen before opening the fridge and taking out a cold one.

Tony chuckled in return and shook his head, dipping what looked to be a piece of chicken into the mix he’d created earlier, and put it to the side before turning to take a hold of the beer that Peter was holding out.

He never took it though.

“What? I get the wrong one or something?” Peter said with a false annoyance.

Tony shook his head, “No, just expected you to open it.”

Oh. Right.

“Um..” Peter started before Tony let out a gasp.

“Jeez you really aren’t a normal teenage boy are you? Here,” and Tony took hold of the glass with a flour coated hand, “You take one of these,” and Tony was suddenly grabbing something he’d seen on his key-chain before, “And pop it like so.”

Peter watched be-musingly as Tony popped the top, though was confused when he was holding out the tool for Peter to take hold of.

“Tony? What—”

“Now you try.”

..

Peter rose a brow, confused at what Tony meant for him to do as he took hold of it. It was warm.

“It’s already open Tony, how do you suppose I do that?”

Tony motioned to the fridge with the beer in his hand, “Grab another out of course.”

Another one?

Peter swallowed thickly but complied with the commanding suggestion. 

Was he about to drink his first beer?

Would it be Tony? A man he had known for six months to be the first person to give him permission to do so, with May in the shower and all?

Peter grabbed yet another cold beer from the fridge and upon shutting the door with a soft jut of his hip, tried to copy what Tony had so easily done.

It took him a few struggling tries, and he was sure that Tony was about to reach out and help from the sudden dress-shoes that entered the top of his vision, but he persevered—eventually getting the wretched top off.

“Aha! I did it!” Peter triumphantly exclaimed, holding the bent metal top between his thumb and index, the tool digging into his palm.

Tony chuckled as he patted Peter’s shoulder, “Good job Peter.” 

And wasn’t it all worth it to hear something like that? A job well done and a pat on the shoulder that—

Wait—

“Hey! You got flour on me!” Peter muttered as he suddenly placed the beer to the side to try and get it off of him. It was a really neat shirt too..though he supposed it would just come out in the wash.

“Oh chill out Pete. It’s not like it can stain your clothes.” Tony said, clearly amused by his general annoyance.

Peter shook his head but eventually accepted that he would have a semi-permanent handprint of his shoulder for the rest of the evening, now choosing to turn and give Tony a curious, and albeit nervous look.

“This one mine?” 

There was a pause then, and when Peter looked up he came full view of Tony downing the first beer he’d opened just minutes ago.

How did he do it? Didn’t it burn? Hurt him at all?

He couldn’t imagine what the carbonation felt like pared with the awful taste he only could assume it had.

God he was really guzzling it down huh? Peter couldn’t help but stare at the bobbing Adam's apple and the way Tony’s brows seemed to remain slightly lifted with the addition of his eye’s remaining shut. His dark lashes fluttered ever so slightly, and there was a sudden choke of a sound as Tony pushed a heavy breath through his nose.

It was strange what this did to him. He wanted to know why more than anything since he hadn’t ever thought to see the man in any other way than his aunt's new boyfriend.

He was just a normal ol’ joe, wasn’t he?

Nothing special.

“fuck..” He muttered again past the glass before downing the rest, knuckles white and fingers red from the grip and the heat of working with boiling liquids and breaded chicken.

“Hand me the other one.” Tony’s sudden command tore through Peter’s haze, and as if his body was on auto-pilot and his mind only recognized the urgency..the heat that seeped through the words and into the normal domestic bliss of the room—he did it.

Peter eye’d Tony hesitantly when the man had once again resumed his semi-regular downing of a drink. It had become more of an occurrence these days after their strange situation a few weeks ago, but it wasn’t anything too abnormal.

The only strange part of this whole thing was his own god damn reaction. 

Why the hell did his cheeks flush when Tony drank his stupid beer?

Fuck why couldn’t he ever seem to look away either?

It was embarrassing. 

Something to be ashamed of.

Something that would no doubt earn him a scowl and a questioning look from the subject of his very strange reactions.

Peter swallowed thickly once more when Tony’s breaths became heavy and his swallows audible once more. He craved these moments. Yearned to hear this even when he wasn’t all too sure as to why.

Peter watched Tony’s hand come up to his looser dress shirt, albeit it was looking tighter than it had a few moments ago if he was being honest—and rested there. Peter’s gaze couldn’t help but watch the man's thumb circling across the side. 

His eyes darted up when he heard what he might have called a whine if it weren’t coming from Tony himself, the embodiment of masculinity in a good way.

Peter felt his cheeks flush with heat and his fingers twitch at his sides, clenching the tool that still resided in his left hand with a grander intensity than he figured he had ever gripped anything before. 

He felt heated, on edge—ready to fucking burst— Fuck!

His final breath was labored as Tony pulled the bottle away—wiping his mouth with the rag that rested on the handle of the oven.

“Thanks Pete.” Tony practically purred, holding out the two empty glasses with a sturdy hand, “Care to toss these for me?”

You’re done?  Peter thought with a sudden wave of disappointment if only for a moment before realizing what he must look like. 

How stupid and idiotic could he be?

“O-Oh..yeah. No problem.” Peter said, taking hold of the bottles and soon tossing them into the trash can after opening the lid with the lever at the bottom.

“And this too please?” Came Tony’s question again, a suggestion that sounded too much like a command—though Peter couldn’t help but comply regardless of what he thought it sounded like.

After tossing the dirty package the chicken came in he felt he couldn’t meet the man's gaze.

He was young—and he had had a concern that he might..

Peter shook his head, furrowing his brows and glancing up to find that Tony was trying to gain his attention once more.

“Best not mention this to your Aunt. She’s been a bit of a stickler with my drinking lately.” Tony hummed, chuckling to himself as he began breading more chicken.

“Why?” Peter heard himself ask. Who gave her the right to tell him what to and not to do anyways? It’s not like Tony ever asked anything of her like that..to his knowledge at least, and he sure as hell knew he didn’t.

Peter watched Tony shrug his shoulders, “She says it’s bad for my physique. I suppose she doesn’t like men with a softer look.” His voice sounded normal enough, but it held contempt. It bugged Tony, and in that moment it sure bothered him as well.

“That’s..why would?..” Peter huffed out a hot breath of air while crossing his arms over his chest, nearly pouting if he had to guess, but he didn’t care! It wasn’t fair of her to say that. Was it?

“Why would that matter?” Peter barked out, huffing once more. “It’s not like it’s..it’s not like it’s a bad thing.” and after a few moments of silence Peter felt unsure.

“Right?..”

Had he been wrong? Was it not a good thing?

May had always been a bit of a stickler when it came to food and the general appearances of others, and at first Peter had nothing better to do than to go along with it..that was until it had been directed towards him.

An off-hand comment about his portion size or a side glance at a desert that Peter had bought from a local street vender..a faint shove to his stomach when it had stuck out at a kid. There had been no words needed to tell him to suck in. To always be conscious of what other people saw or what they thought. 

He has a fast metabolism, always had—but he still..still sucks it in. still made sure his shirts didn’t touch his gut when he stood or sat down.

Peter suddenly felt the urge to get upset at his aunt as his eyes refocused on the softness of Tony’s figure.

What right did she have to deter him like that? Peter gambled that Tony looked right about as good as he ever had before—although he’d never given it a second thought before either.

“Peter, hey." He heard, though faint to his ears as he was lost to the crushing fact that he had been under a watchful eye for nearly all his life..

Those comments she’d made after a couple weeks of him staying with her all those years ago..

The pokes and the prods—it bugged him to no end. They were family so he supposed he was supposed to endure that sort of thing—but Tony? What did he ever do to deserve that?

“Peter.” Tony said curtly, a deep, low, sure voice entering Peter’s ears causing him to quickly raise his gaze up to Tony’s own.

“You okay?” His voice was soothing to his muddled thoughts as he nodded, unsure if he was telling the full truth or not.

Of course he wasn’t okay.

“Yeah.. yeah I’m fine. Just got to thinking about the chem test this Friday..” Lies. Lies Lies. “Some of the questions have been giving me some trouble.” not all lies.

Tony looked momentarily perplexed, but nodded nonetheless. Did he know he was lying? Could he sense it? Peter hoped to god he didn’t.

“Tell you what, I’ll give you a hand with it after dinner if you give me a hand with preparing these chicken breasts, hm? Sounds fair enough?”

Peter was a bit thrown off by the light tone in his voice, but he nodded—walking with Tony the short distance it took to get over to his ‘station’ of sorts.

He cringed when he noticed the bowl of the mixed eggs—” I don’t want to touch that Tony.”

The older man tsked and shook his head, pointing to the chicken, “Then you can coat it in the flour and I’ll coat it with the egg and the bread. Jeez making an old man labor away in the kitchen, huh? No respect for your elders?” Tony joked, motioning for Peter to take a hold of one of the remaining chicken breasts.

It was slimy and strangely firm as his face contorted into discontent, but coated it without being told how. He’d seen enough cook shows in passing to know how to do it—and plus it was essentially common knowledge.

“Oh shut it Tony..you’re not even that old anyways so I don’t know what you’re gripping on about.” Peter went to hand the breast to Tony before he was told to shake it off, “you aren’t that old, right?”

Tony laughed, shaking his head and finally taking a hold of the breast to dip in it the mixed up egg, “I’m 54 Peter, so not quite retirement age.”

Pressing another firm chicken breast into the flour and rubbing it lightly Peter shrugged, “Well come to think of it, you are eligible for senior discounts. You think you could get me some sour gummy worms for 50 cents cheaper?”

Tony shoved him ever so slightly making him giggle.

“Sour gummy worms?” came the man's voice suddenly.

Peter nodded, smiling as he passed Tony yet another slab of chicken, “Yeah. They’re really bad for me so I can never convince myself to pay full price when I could buy an exceptionally made salad for the same price.”

There was a silence after the soft hum that Tony let out past his lips, and as it was nearing the time from Peter to hand him the last piece, Tony was brushing his arm against Peters—though not in the same way as before. 

This time it was light..affectionate, in some way that Peter didn’t know how to explain.

“Thank you Peter.” 

Peter damn near shivered at the conviction held in those words. Peter brushed his hands together over the diminished layer of flour and held a sneaking suspicion that Tony was somehow thanking him for more than the help in the kitchen.

He was too shocked to respond, he thought, but he did nod enough for Tony to see it, though he wasn’t even sure if he’d looked in his direction because of the way sound travels via directions and all that.

He was glad that he hadn’t been made to look the man in the eye at that moment because he feared if he did, he might not be able to control the shade of his cheeks or the size of his stupid give-away pupils.

Stupid Tony..

Stupid Peter..

God it was all so stupid.

— — — 

“Hey what’s gotten into you?”

Peter blinked, “Huh? Oh, nothing.” 

Ned looked at him clearly not believing him.

“If nothing means getting a 95 on the chemistry test and not gawking at Liz all lunch period, that I sure have missed a lot.” His friend huffed out, pushing at Peter’s for-arm from across the table.

“Yeah dork, what’s up with that?” MJ interjected, nearly making Peter jump.

“Jeez..since when did you get here?”

“Since when did you not notice I got here, Peter?” She retorted, and she supposed she had a bit of a point. He was usually so aware of everything, but today had just been..different. 

It definitely wasn’t because May had told him before heading to work today that Tony would be picking him up after school before coming to get her to head to a restaurant up-state that Tony always went on about. Apparently it was nearing close to their seven month anniversary and she was feeling a bit guilty about her being gone for two nights (even though she’d on the regular be gone for one because of work). 

He supposed he understood it, but it was still a bit..weird. 

What was the interior of his car like? Was it all black like the exterior paint job? What were the accent colors?

Was it fancy? New? Stained or clean?

Shaking his head, Peter let out a groan of frustration and began sinking lower in his chair to press his face into his crossed arms on the table.

“I have to go to this stupid dinner up state with my aunt and her boyfriend..she feels guilty or whatever for having to be gone with the weekend get-away Tony had planned for their anniversary.” 

Ned audibly sounded annoyed and MJ merely snorted, “Really? You got a 95 on that test just because you have to go to a fancy dinner ?” MJ mocked, laughing now, “Jeez Parker. You sound incredibly pretentious right now.”

“Yeah man. Are you scared of them serving escargot or something?”

Sometimes Peter hated them.

“Shut up guys..it's nothing, honest. I’m just a bit tired. Was up too late last night watching Titanic of all things since Tony had heard over dinner that I’d never seen it and swore he wouldn’t stop bugging me until I watched it.”

Ned and MJ both laughed, making Peter scowl even more as he sat up and covered his face with his hands.

He’d admittedly been a bit distracted by Tony’s off hand commentary throughout it, though that didn’t bother him too much. He’d been a bit more perturbed by the mere fact that his eyes often would find the man in the first place .

Since when did he care to watch Tony shift his position on the couch, or become hyper-aware when the man grunted or breathed during the quieter moment of the movie.

Or even the way his aunt had been able to fit herself so perfectly against the older man.

He didn’t care to dwell on that though—and was unsure as to why he’d want to in the first place.

He wasn’t..you know.

Peter’s cheeks flushed as he rubbed his hands over his face and through his hair, willing the thoughts away as if they were comparable to the memory of a family pet dying or someone getting run over by a car.

Poison, even.

He still had three classes left and he honestly had no idea how he was going to make it through english. They’d taken to reading The Road, and thus far it had just been a bit weird. Nothing exceptionally interesting had happened, but he couldn’t help but wonder why his teacher had warmed all of them about it being a semi-difficult read in the first place. It was just another apocalypse story line wasn’t it?

Peter supposed he’d just have to find out the same way he’d be finding out three or so hours from now the nitty gritty details of what came along with riding in the car of his aunt's boyfriend.

Peter shivered at the idea, unsure as to why, and took a harsh bite from his turkey sandwich with a gnawing sense of dreaded nervousness forming in his gut.

— — — 

“Don’t forget to study next time huh? A 95 is simply a disgrace.” Flash annoyingly spat as they walked out of the front doors and down the steps, “I can’t believe you were such a slacker this time around.”

Why does it matter? It’s still an A.

Peter sighed, “Lay off Flash. I had an off day, that’s all. Stop acting as if it’s the end of the world that I don't get over 100 on a test.”

“But it is!”

“No, it’s not.” Peter seethed, rolling his shoulders and looking around to thankfully find the hopeful sanctuary of Tony’s expensive set of wheels. It was a bit embarrassing to even think about stepping foot into it but he supposed he didn’t have a choice in the matter.

“My rides here, so could you buzz off?” Peter muttered as he motioned to the black on black Audi, which soon caused Flash to fall into a fit of laughter.

“That?? No way penis-parker has an Audi. And a new one at that! Oh you’re funny man.” The other boy now taking to clasp him on the shoulder, jostling him a bit, “I’ll go ahead and get out of here so you can be less embarrassed when you have to walk in the other direction.”

As Flash started down the way towards the chauffeur vehicle his parents usually sent, Peter couldn’t help but be annoyed. He hadn’t even been able to explain himself, though did he need to? Why did he have to tell Flash anything anyway?

Peter wrapped his fingers around the back door handle and it thankfully came open with ease—though Tony was suddenly speaking to him, “Ah ah, get in front kid. We still have to drive to the hospital. You can switch up then.”

Well..alright then. It wasn’t too often that he got to take the opportunity considering he walked and took either a bus or a subway everywhere.

When he was secured in the front and gawking at the sleek yet comfortable interior of Tony’s car, he couldn’t help but turn to look at the man who was speaking once again. Gosh he was so out of it today..

“So what do you think? Live up to the expectations?”

“This exceeds the expectations, Tony. Jeez..” His fingers caress over the rich leather with a cold chill that followed, “Only ever seen cars like this in the movie.”

A beat or two of silence followed before he felt a faint pat on his knee, “Seatbelt please and thank you.” and for emphasis, motioned to his own that was on.

Peter glanced over at Tony’s and noticed that he’d been in his customary suit—though this time he sported a tie and an overcoat instead of just the normal disheveled look.

It suited him. A small smile appeared on his face at the thought.

He couldn’t help but eye a bit lower to notice the way it fit around his middle either—the seatbelt resting against the underside of the man's slow-growing gut. He watched the way it expanded when he took a breath in and then the way it fell when he exhaled—the seatbelt just moving right along with him.

Looking back on his own as he grabbed the strap and rested it against his own self though, noted that his moved a lot less after buckling it into place. He supposed he was a lot thinner than the other man was, but still.

Peter was brought out of his thoughts by a soft chuckle erupting form beside him, and when Peter glanced up accusingly, he couldn’t help but already notice Tony’s eyes on him.

“What?” Peter questioned, brows furrowed, “I put it on wrong or something?”

Tony only chuckled more and shook his head as he pulled into the road, hands running so effortlessly across the wheel in front of him.

“No No..I just thought of something from work, that’s all.”

Huffing out a breath in disbelief, Peter couldn’t help but comply. It was only after about five minutes that Tony asked him the regular questions he usually asked—though this time Peter wasn’t really wanting to answer them. He’d never once told Tony he’d gotten less than a 98 on a test—and usually he got over 100 in chemistry because of the extra credit opportunities!

To get a 95.. How disgraceful..

“So..how’d school go today?”

Easy enough Peter, just play it cool.

“It went okay. We’ve begun reading The Road in English class—and my turkey sandwich was pretty good for lunch. Thanks for buying us some.”

Tony waved it off even while he was driving, “It’s no biggie. I noticed you’d been out and remembered how you said that’s what you usually fixed yourself in the morning…”

Peter stared out the passenger-side window as Tony spoke, wondering why it made his chest burn at the idea that Tony had remembered to get the turkey, or even cared enough at all to do so.

“Oh!” The man exclaimed, making him jump a bit, realizing now that they were at a red light.

Peter watched as the other man reached in the back, “I also grabbed some of these while I was out too.”

Peter’s cheeks flushed embarrassingly more when he noticed that Tony'd gotten him a pack of sour gummy worms. His favorite. 

He was never too good with showing gratitude either—putting him on the spot like that? It was always so gruesomely awkward.

“They weren’t on a senior discount per-say, but putting a few extra bucks into the overall bill at the end of the line wasn’t going to break the bank.”

Peter started down at them, eyes wide as he worryingly touched the packaging. How was this even real? None of May’s past boyfriends had done this. None of them he supposed had ever known him well enough either, but that was beside the point. 

“What else were you getting? I wouldn’t want you to look like some sorta psychopath in the line with just the turkey and sour gummy worms.” Peter questioned, adding a light hearted tone to it in hopes that that hadn’t been the case. He didn’t want Tony going out of his way just for him.

“Oh just the usual. Got some peppers and steak for a dinner I’m planning to cook when I come over in a few days—some string cheese, a guilty pleasure of mine, and then just some beer.”

Peter’s stomach lurched at the word.

What in the pavlovian responses was that?

“Yeah? I had been wondering why there were a few new things in the fridge that didn’t appear to be something regularly on May and I’s list.”

Peter bit his lip, glancing back out the window—feeling a bit reckless.

“Aren’t the bottles more expensive than the cans? The packing for that sort of thing never made any sense to me..”

Peter’s fingers rested idly on the plastic package in front of him, waiting for a response. God he was so stupid to ask..why would Tony want to talk about beer with him of all people? As if he’d ever drank any anyways..

To his surprise though, Tony merely chuckled, “Nah they’re a bit more expensive than the cans. But I can’t very easily bring over a big box of them—May would probably have a heart attack.”

“I save the cans for my place, and bring over a pack of six to yours when I come over—though nowadays I’ve had to be sneaky.” Tony sighed, sounding a bit tired all of a sudden, ”It makes it easier. Less intrusive into her life-style I think—but what do I know.”

Peter’s brows furrowed once more as his right hand now rested on the arm ledge, finger toying over the small lever for the window.

“Do you drink hard liquor?”

A beat, then followed before the other man spoke again, “Sometimes. Though that’s more so when I’m at a work related function, if I want the taste of something sweet on my tongue before bed, or while I work at home on reports and other things like it.”

“I much prefer the feel of the cheap stuff though. Getting drunk isn't really the point when I drink most of the time.”

That had Peter a bit confused, bringing him from his state of estranged bliss to question the other man once more.

“Then why do you drink?”

He should’ve figured that he wouldn’t get a response, so when Tony laughed softly and retorted with “How come you’re so curious now? You’re not planning to drink anytime soon are you?”, Peter merely grumbled and shook his head.

Of course he wasn’t..

I’m just curious about you.

After a few minutes of silence passed by the two of them Peter wanted to talk again. He didn’t mind silence, but he was enjoying their conversation and knew that for the next hour his lips would be tied shut in the back.

“Are you staying over tonight? When do you guys leave for your weekend get-away thing?”

“I hadn’t really decided if I’d stay over tonight or not—I figured I could do either, but I don’t think I have anything at the house to cap me off before bed.”

Was he so blatantly and unapologetically an alcoholic? Peter couldn’t help but snort.

“What?” Tony asked, clearly unsure as to why he'd just laughed at what he said, and Peter hummed, smiling with intent.

“Oh just thought of something that happened at school.” He said cheekily, hoping Tony knew that he’d lied erlier. He wasn’t that daft—..usually.

“Alright alright..but regardless,” Tony continued on, “we leave this coming weekend, so three days away? I’m coming by to pick her up on friday. Has she packed yet?”

Peter shrugged, glancing now in front of them as they stopped at yet another pedestrian crossing, “I think so? She took down her suitcase that she had in the middle of the closet a few nights ago after dinner so I’d take that as a sign that she’s at least thought about it.”

Peter watched Tony nod beside him, his eyes glazing over his features and noting how sharp the cut of his dark but slightly greying goatee was.

He had such a sharp jaw for having the start of a pot belly.

Peter! Shut up!

“Good good..” Tony murmured, stopping a few more blocks down at yet another light he guessed, letting a hand fall past his small yet..protruding softness. It wasn’t anything to call home about, but it was more than it had been 7 months ago. 

What’d changed?

Was it the beer?

The take-out?

Peter’s eyes couldn’t seem to tear away from the other man's soft gut, noting how much smaller it was as compared to when he was over at May and his place by the end of the night.

“M’ excited for dinner..” Tony muttered through Peter’s hazy thoughts, hand now moving up from his thigh to pat his belly—fuck.

“It’s one of my favorite places, so I tried to eat light today so I can really enjoy it.”

Peter nodded, cheeks flushing when Tony suddenly squeezed his gut faintly—taking it as a sign that he should look away now—and he did, thankfully, to return his gaze towards out the window out the window.

“Y-yeah?” Peter cursed himself internally for the faint voice crack, clearing his throat to start again.

“Yeah? May pulled up the menu last night I think..”

“Did she complain at all?” Tony suddenly asked out of the blue, interjecting himself into the conversation once again.

“Huh? Oh..not too much. She just kinda talked about how she probably wouldn’t be ordering any half-pound burgers.”

Tony laughed, flicking his hand over the wheel, “Yeah I guessed so. I was glad to see they had smaller burgers on the menu—along with things like grilled chicken and other more..well, healthy options.”

Peter swallowed, wondering what Tony would be ordering. Would it be his favorite?

Would he get a half-pound burger?

What would May think?

Peter supposed the more important question was what he would think when he was there, watching his aunt’s boyfriend downing his greasy mouth watering burger..

Would he get something to drink? Something fizzy? Filling?..

Flushing at his onslaught of intrusively arousing thoughts, Peter covered himself nonchalantly and noticed the hospital was coming up on their left.

“Well..I’m excited to try something new.” Peter murmured, looking to Tony when they parked near the door where May was standing close to, her smile evident and her exuberant waving telling the both of them that she was excited regardless to see the both of them.

“I'm glad Peter.” Tony said softly and to drive the point home removed the hand that had been resting against his gut, to now pat his knee. 

pat pat. Peter jumped, of course, and couldn’t help but scowl when he thought of his conflicting thoughts surrounding Tony. On one hand he was frustrated because Tony could so easily give but he hard a hard time accepting—but on the other hand..gosh..

Soft, Peter thought as he got out of the car to get in the back. Tony was always so soft. So considerate. 

It made his chest tight and his heart race in a similar way that he sometimes had gotten around Liz a few months back—but it wasn’t the same.

..

Peter watched now from the back seat as Tony kissed May’s cheek across the middle console and laughed at something he hadn’t been present enough to hear. Peter glanced back out the backseat window at the passing cars and people walking to their next inevitable destination—only now wondering why his mind was playing tricks on him.

It couldn’t be the same.

— — — 

Tony had just let out another belch when May was swatting at him as they made their way out of the restaurant towards Tony’s parked car.

“Tony! Stop it already. That’s disgusting.” She lectured, shaking her head and walking ahead of him to try and hurry off to the car.

“I can’t help it, May! I’m stuffed.” Called Tony from behind, letting out another soft belch that Peter couldn’t possibly ignore.

The evening had gone surprisingly well if Peter really thought about it. 

May had of course lectured Tony and Peter with both getting half-pound burgers (Tony had essentially forced it on him, but he hadn’t complained. Especially since by the end Tony was taking his own half-eaten burger that he couldn’t have possibly finished as to not be ‘wasteful of such good food’). 

It’d been fun—a lot of laughs, a few short disagreements about the local stuff around town—a brief discussion about the local New York killer that’s taken the population by storm…yknow, the usual.

All Peter could possibly think about was the way Tony was cradling his fuller stomach after he’d proceeded to order an abnormally large piece of chocolate cake (that Tony had insisted he try before he dug into it).

He had and so had May, and it was in fact—very delicious. It had been a bit dense though and he can’t imagine how Tony was feeling at the present moment.

“You okay?” Peter asked as he tried to mask the concern with the normalcy of what the question could be. “You sure did eat a lot.”

Tony rolled his shoulder and nodded as he let a hand rub across his distended gut for a moment, pressing on the apex of it with a wince, “Yeah, ‘m fine Pete. Why?”

Peter shrugged and shoved his hands into his jacket pockets, suddenly feeling stupid for asking the question at all. It’s not like Tony wouldn’t be okay. 

Peter felt something brush against his arm and when he turned to look he saw Tony, smiling warmly as always.

“God, look at this..” Tony murmured, essentially slapping his gut and shaking it slightly making Peter’s eye-lids shift up minutely and the hands in his pockets flex. “Can’t believe I ate so much..”

“I can’t believe you fit that much in there either. That cake was pretty dense.” Peter blurted in response as he tore his eyes away from the other man’s stiff looking gut in favor of trying to see where May had walked off to—clearly already having gotten in the car with the help of Tony’s keys by the look of a pair of red tail lights ahead of them.

“Yeah..I just couldn’t help it I guess. I did say this place was my favorite.”

“Clearly.” Peter said pointedly, but soon sighed, speaking a bit tentatively next.

“So, are you staying over?”

The car was quickly encroaching—

“M’not sure. I might. Why? You want me to?”

Did..um..huh?

Why would he ask him that?

Peter’s gaze flicked up to Tony’s when he felt the familiar brush of the other’s arm against his own, noticing the haze in his eyes. He was sober but full beyond belief. Did it have the same effect?

Shaking his head he quickly shot down the idea, “Nah, just curious whether I should make breakfast for four or not.”

Tony laughed at that and shook his head as he walked around the side of the car, “You’re funny Peter. But yeah, that sounds good.”

Funny. 

He was Funny. Silly. Good.

Peter hoped the opposite side of the compliment spectrum didn’t fall from Tony’s lips in relation to him. Ever. He didn’t think he could handle hearing the man say he was boring. Or..or bad.

Peter looked at the corner of the man's face in the sparse lighting of the car they’ve both just got into for a long, grueling moment before looking down at his hands entrapped around the gummy worm package, thinking back to earlier in the day when it had just been the two of them. 

He’d been glad Tony hadn’t asked about his test grade. Maybe he’d forgotten. He couldn’t be diligent with that sort of thing all the time could he?

He’d do better next time. He would.

— — — 

By the end of the night after everyone had taken to brushing their teeth and getting a glass of chilled water, Peter had just been walking past May’s room when she heard the familiar sharp tone he’d grown up always being privy to.

“Tony, I'm serious with this stuff! You can’t be eating like this..”

“...’s not that big of a deal May. I barely ever do it—”

“And the beer? What about that?”

Peter held his breath, wondering what the older man would say as he stepped closer to the door—socked feet padding against the hardwood.

“I told you May—I cut back. I have some here in the evenings, then one or two on the weekends. Swear it.”

Peter’s eyes widened. Liar.

Liar.

He stepped impossibly closer.

“Then how come you still bloat up like this, hm? Looks like you have more than just those beers on the weekdays and weekends to me.”

He heard a loud tsk and a sigh come from the man through the door, he was agitated.

“My metabolism isn’t what it used to be, I guess. I just ate a huge meal, May—I’m going to look like this. Anyone would.”

Liar. Liar. Liar.

His hand slipped lower on his own body, gripping the hem of his loose fitting t-shirt.

“I want you to work on it Tony. It can’t be good for your health..”

“..Yeah..I suppose you’re right.”

Peter stepped away from the door and hurried down the hall, not daring to look back.

Carrying himself back to his bedroom, Peter couldn’t help but let out a heavy breath he’d not realized he was holding in while his back pressed against the door.

His thoughts wandered to the conversation he’d just been privy to hearing (without their permission, but that was a simple side-step), and couldn't help but play back what Tony had said.

He ‘cut back’. 

Peter breathed out into the cool air of his dark room, tossing his dirty clothes to the side and making his way to his bed to get a bit more comfortable.

have some here in the evenings, then one or two on the weekends

“I swear it.” Peter muttered into the stillness, cheeks running ablaze as his hands itched to go lower than their position across his stomach. 

Why did it get him so worked up for?

Why did his skin run hot and his ears feel clogged—eyes filled with hot, erotic tears at the mere idea Tony’s less than ideal drinking habits.

It was embarrassing—humiliating even!

What was this?

Turning to his side in the bed, Peter glared at the doorway in a fit of teen angst. He wouldn’t dare to shut his eyes in fear of seeing the older man's softer figure in front of him. 

To see his hands caressing over the body..to hear the hiccups and burps the man would let out when he’d allow himself get past a certain point..

Peter’s eye’s were sealed shut suddenly as he gritted his teeth at the idea of Tony stumbling for another from the fridge—or better yet, pausing a movie to tell Peter to get him another because he simply could not get up on his own—

“A-Ah..” Peter breathed out, hands clutching the bed sheets as his mind wandered further to the idea of his returning with two and watching Tony slowly down both of them while some action played on the screen in front of them.

He’d turn to Peter half-way through the second and give him that same loose, soft smile as always and mutter,

“Good boy Peter.”

His eyes flew open when he felt it. The sudden wet heat in his boxers—the thumping of his heart, and the hard breaths he was exhaling through his slightly parted lips.

Hot tears of humiliation slid down the side of his face and over the bridge of his nose as the shame coiled around his entire being—strangling him till there was nothing left of him to give. 

He was silent from the fear of hearing his voice crack or a sob break free as he cleaned himself moments later, wishing for nothing more than a quiet mind and these strange foreign thoughts and feelings to go away.

Tony was a good man. A normal man.

It was a fluke, that’s all..Peter thought to himself as he felt tears continue to slowly slip from his ducts to the pillow beneath his soft head of nearly dry hair.

Tony would never need to know anyways.

— — — 

After their eighth month anniversary came and passed in the blink of an eye, Peter couldn’t help but notice that Tony continued to drink heavily, and May had simply grown contempt.

Her actions had mostly not shown much, but Peter knew his aunt, and he knew that she wasn’t exactly happy about the free will Tony continued to take on.

he’d drink, and her eyes were glance down at his growing gut but..not in the way Peter’s did. It was judgmental, disagreeable. There was no heat to her gaze or the touches she’s give to the soft dome. 

Peter always had to look away before things had gone on for too long though since last time when he’d taken to staring at her snark filled belly rubbing, when his gaze fell upwards, Tony had been staring right back at him.

He wondered if the older man thought his gaze was judgmental like hers, or if the heat was clear—wafting off his body and displaying his undying affection towards his chubbier form. He nearly could consider it fat.

“So how’s May and Tony doing?” Came Ned's voice as they sat in the other boys room putting together a sick new lego set.

Peter shrugged as he put two bricks together, “They’re fine, why?”

“So no fighting?”

“No.”

“No kicking him out?”

Peter shook his head, tsking, “No, Ned..jeez. Tony’s a good guy.”

..

“How come you got a 93 on your chem test then?”

Shit.

He supposed the only thing that had been quote on quote different from before was Tony’s physique.

He’d grown a bit, so to speak, and not in height.

Oftentimes it wasn’t enough to distract him to the point of being unable to study—but when it got to the point where Tony was groaning and constantly shifting on the couch in front of him because of how much he’d drank that night—things got a little complicated.

Especially when the man was trying to help him even when he clearly was a bit out of it.

It made Peter chuckle now—and wondered if a 93 was really that bad?

“I don’t know..I had a few questions on the study guide that I couldn’t figure out—and usually Tony helps me out because he went to school and works with stuff like that but, he hadn’t been able to yesterday.” A lie, but not a full one.

“You know you can text me about it right?” Ned said, defensive as usual but all Peter could do was laugh.

“Yeah right—as if you’re not the one always texting me about needing those answers.”

That seemed to silence his friend for a moment, most likely because he knew it to be true, and soon allowed them to continue on with their lego construction as usual. For an idle moment, he wondered if Tony would be staying over tonight.

— — — 

Peter had also taken to wondering, and then hoping that Tony wouldn’t ask him how the test went when he got home later that night—and he thought that he’d been in the clear when all he was greeted with was a ‘welcome back’ and ‘dinner’s nearly ready’, but of course he wasn’t ever that lucky.

“So, how’d that test of yours go today?” Tony suddenly asked as he popped a grape into his mouth with a crunch. “You pass with flying colors once again?”

Peter froze, unsure of how to answer.

Did he lie? Tell the truth? The evidence was sitting idly in his backpack that was resting against the wall—but he didn’t peg Tony as the kind of guy to snoop.

“Um..well, sorta—”

“Sorta? Did something happen?” He asked as yet another grape entered his mouth.

Peter was quick to wave his hands in front of him, shaking his head, “No no! Nothing horrible. Just had forgotten to go over a few questions on the exam—and my teacher didn’t have any extra credit this time.”

Yet another partial lie—gosh Peter who even are you?

Tony hummed as he let a hand rub across his trimmed goatee, seemingly wondering what to say next.

“What did you get?”

Peter didn’t want to answer that. Anything but that—

“I..” 

“I think as long as you didn’t get less than an 80 then you should be fine. And even if you did I’m sure we could work on it.. I find the subject easy enough, and if you’re struggling that much then I don’t mind taking some extra time on it.”

An 80??

Tony thought it had been that bad?

Peter shook his head, ”I got a 93 Tony, it’s nothing like that.”

The man seemed to look at him for a second before laughing, a hand coming up to rest against his stomach as he did so which made Peter’s cheeks flush—both from the embarrassment but also because of the reminder that Tony was wearing a simple white t-shirt. 

Must mean he’s staying over tonight if he already got dressed down into that.

“Jeez kid you had me worried for a second.. A 93 isn’t bad at all!” and to emphasis upon Peter’s stupidity, reached forward to ruffle his hair, making him flush impossibly more.

“Hey—!” Peter barked, lifting a hand to push Tony’s forearm away, “Stop that..” Peter grumbled out. 

“I appreciate the kind words but my friends were really hell bent on me needing to do better next time..”

“Sounds like we’ll just need to focus a bit more when you study hm? Those friends of yours should lay off a bit.” Tony chuckled, pulling the lasagna out of the oven that smelled and looked oh so delicious.

“ Mmm..Tony that looks amazing!” Peter exclaimed as he hurriedly slid his socked feet across the floor to where the dish was cooling—gawking at it, “Thanks for making dinner.”

Peter watched from the corner of his eye as Tony brought his beer bottle to his lips—and when he suddenly felt his hair being ruffled and his head being pat once again, he didn’t quite have the same animosity towards it as before.

It continued for as long as Tony's sip had been, which lasted a bit longer considering when he pulled away his breath was a bit labored.

Tony belched as he seemed to walk across the room to toss the bottle away with the rest—and from what Peter could hear, opened the fridge for yet another.

Peter continued to stare at the lasagna, wondering just what he’d done to deserve such a domestic sort of bliss in his life.

“May’s just finished up with her shower I’d guess—but you wanna show me that test of yours? We could start going over it.” 

His voice was deep and yet held so much care..as if he truly did want to help him with his stupid chemistry homework. It wouldn’t do much now of course because they were moving onto yet another unit tomorrow—but it never hurt to hear Tony babble on about some of his high-tech projects that somehow related to his little chemistry problems. 

“Y-Yeah!” Peter called out, smiling in Tony’s direction as the other man was seemingly waiting in the doorway, and walked across the room to take one of his backpacks straps in hand.

“Thanks Tony.”

Tony chuckled, “No problem kiddo.”

— — — 

“So..have you given any thought to college yet?” Tony asked as they drove away from his school in the direction of a grocery store since apparently, someone forgot to get pasta for their planned pasta and shrimp scampi meal.

He’d given Tony a firm talking too—though it was admittedly a pretty weak one considering Tony probably only conceded to the ‘you have to buy me 3 packs of sour gummy worms!’ comment because he wanted to.

If Peter were to be honest with Tony—he hadn’t. He wasn’t even sure what he actually wanted to do in the first place and it’d been driving him up the wall for the past three or so weeks more than usual with his last ‘winter break’ coming up in a couple months.

“I..yeah a-a bit.” 

Peter blinked in the silence of the car, noting how people now wore hats and scarves—jackets even. He’d never owned a scarf before.

“Yeah? If I’m honest Peter that didn’t sound all too convincing. Next time I’d instruct you to say something along the lines of ‘Yeah I have, but none of them really spoke to me’ sorta thing.”

Peter stuck his bottom lip out a bit and furrowed his brows—crossing his arms over his abdomen.

“Oh shut up Tony..no, I haven't given it any thought because I still have absolutely no idea what I want to do, alright?” Peter retorted defensively. He didn’t want to get into this conversation with Tony—mostly because he didn’t want the man to be disappointed in him.

“You happy now?”

The car was silent for a moment, and as the red light turned green and they continued on down the busy New York City street—Tony tsked and made a left turn.

“Not exceptionally, but only because you seem to be so defensive about it.” Tony explained, “I think it’s smart that you’re thinking through it at your own pace..I mean, the only reason I attended MIT was because my father had, and insisted that I follow in his grand and impossibly large footsteps.”

Peter had never asked Tony what he did for a living outside of the general basic stuff and Tony had never elected to tell him either. 

Tony worked in a lab, with chemistry and tech, and that’s all he knew.

“I wouldn’t worry too much about it, Peter. You have plenty of time to think about it and if anyone’s pressuring you that’s on them.”

But that’s the problem, isn’t it? It was everyone that was ushering him to think about the next big steps in his life. Ned and MJ harped him about following them on their grand adventure to MIT, his teachers breathed down all of their necks in hopes of getting most kids into a college, and then even May would on occasion question him about it—and as the months wore on, it seemed that the concerns had become more and more straight forward.

Peter let out a heavy sigh, watching his breath fog up the glass for only a moment before turning back to look out the front wind-shield.

“I..thanks Tony. It’s nice to have at least one person in my life that isn’t breathing down my neck about it. Seems everybody else is more concerned about me getting into college than whatever they’ve got going on in their own lives.” Peter tsked then, shaking his head, “I don’t get why people have to be so overbearing sometimes.”

Maybe they were right to be concerned—maybe it was a good thing that Peter had them pushing him in the right and steady fast direction—but it's just..it got old fast and sometimes Peter just wanted to exist for five seconds without feeling some sort of crippling existential anxiety about whatever it was that came next.

“Well..” Tony started, bringing Peter out of his momentary haze, “I'm glad I can be the voice of teenage rebellion in that brain of yours—but also I think that after all that—you deserve four packs of gummy works over three.”

Teenage rebellion?

“What do you mean Tony? I don’t think I’m being rebellious—”

Tony quickly shot down his retort with his own, “No, but you’re young. You deserve to be able to live your life a little care-free sometimes, or not have a clue what comes next. It’s all part of it—being a teenager. I’d hate it if you never got the chance to, that’s all.”

Oh.

Well..if you put it that way.

“Oh..” Peter murmured, unsure of what else to say as they made their way into the grocery store lot, The man's fancy black Audi sliding into one of the parking spots a bit farther out.

“You park far away too huh?” He asked, eyeing the parking job as he shut the door and started to round the car to meet Tony on the other side.

“Yep. Unless it’s raining, I usually do it just so I don’t have to worry with parking around a bunch of people since most of the time it can be a bit of a pain.”

Peter giggled, “Glad I’m not the only one to think so.”

Tony eyed him past the shades he’d thrown on, smirking a bit, then turned back to face the automatic double doors they were encroaching upon, “Me too kid. Now—you need anything else other than Gummy worms when we walk in here?”

He quickly shook his head, taking a wandering glance around the exterior before following a bit closer behind Tony than usual. He hadn’t really been to this shopping mart before—mostly because it was a bit more expensive—and farther away, than the other one.

Everything had mostly been going okay, gummy worms and pasta in hand among a few others things like a pack of powdered donuts that Tony had noticed Peter gawking after, as well as a pack of carrots (and not the mini-ones either to Peter’s dismay, but he’d decided it wasn’t enough of an issue to warrant speaking up over it.)

Besides..Tony shouldn’t have to pay for his things outside of their dinners—or even when it came to that, it still had been a real compromise at first. Peter felt guilty sometimes, but Tony always reassured the both of them that he really didn’t mind—and quite enjoyed going to the grocery anyways.

That and he had to go for..

Tony suddenly halted and pressed the back of his hand against Peter’s forearm to his grand surprise, “Hold up a sec. Let me grab a pack of something to bring over.”

Right. The beer.

Peter shivered as he followed just as close behind Tony to the alcohol section, watching the way the older man's eyes fluttered over the different labels—but he seemed to always come back for the same one every time. It was admittedly generic, but Peter didn’t mind.

Why would he?

“There we are,” Tony said in a gruff tone, taking hold of the six pack's handle and motioning on towards the registers and self-checkout, “you ready?”

Peter drew his eyes away from the beers on the chilled wall and nodded, smiling with his items in hand, “Yep! And.. Thanks for paying Tony. you really don’t have to get me these,” and before he could begin to feel guilty again like he usually did, the man was already shaking his head and waving it off with his free hand.

“Peter—If I tell you it’s fine, then I mean it. Honestly I enjoy shopping for you guys..makes me feel like I contribute something other than taking up a spot on the couch and draining most of your coffee in the morning.”

Ah that was true—though come to think of it, Tony had started buying their coffee for them too. The cheap kind May liked of course because when Tony had tried to surprise her with something a bit more..expensive, she’d smacked his arm and asked him what the hell he did to make it taste so bitter!

He nodded with compliance to Tony regardless of how he might’ve felt and soon felt a flush blossom over his features at the feeling of the man patting his arm—his large warm hands brushing against him in an effort to lead them towards the smallest checkout line they could find. 

Peter couldn’t help but be embarrassed when Tony did that..thing that he did.

Show general affection?

How taboo it was.

Or maybe he’d just grown up without it—yeah. That one made more sense.

Shaking his head in an attempt to clear his thoughts, he was suddenly taken aback by the cashier making a comment to Tony.

“You got yourself a son, Tony? He’s a real looker..I can see why you never bring him around. I’d think the younger ladies would swoon at the sight.” The elderly woman checking them out (he supposed in more ways than one) said in a sing-song-ingly tone. It left something to be desired, but in Peter’s case the only thing he desired was to leave. Leave and never come back.

Before he could speak up for himself though, Tony was taking the lead with a chuckle and a faint air of trickery, “Oh I know right? A handsome little bambino, but he’s not mine.” Tony tsked, as if he were upset for some reason—and continued on, “He’s my girlfriend's nephew. I just picked him up from school so I figured we’d run an errand for dinner. I forgot the pasta for our shrimp scampi tonight and this one,” Tony motioned to him with a thumb, “Gave me a real chewing out over it.”

Peter’s lips were partially a-gap as Tony continued on and on and on—wondering when the embarrassing torture might end—but it seemingly never did because the older woman was suddenly apologizing to him and making some comment about how ‘tough’ he was for standing up to Tony the way he did.

It’s not like Tony’s a real jerk or anything..he was just..

Well..

Normal. 

“You really should cut back on this stuff you know..before you know it, that figure you used to sport will be a goner forever..” And of course his ears are going to perk up at that. He was insufferable..

“Hm..I suppose. Though why worry about it now? I’m planning to cut back with the new year…I can’t not eat to my heart's content on thanksgiving, halloween, and Christmas right? That would just be a crime..” and to Peter’s amazement, Tony let a hand rest against his protruding gut as he swiped the card across the side of the machine.

“I suppose..gosh what do you think of him, son? You’ve known him since he had the abs that us ladies at the store can all dearly remember,” Peter supposed Tony was a big flirt around here then, jeez, “You’re bound to lecture him on that too soon enough,” and as if to be jokingly obvious, leaded over a bit and put a hand up to whisper, “Maybe then he’ll listen and we'll have something to gawk over again.” before pulling away with a bout of laughter.

Peter looked between her and Tony with an awkward stance—wondering what the hell he was supposed to say. Why was it always him?? God he couldn’t catch a break..

Does this sort of thing happen when people are his age just because they are? Is this one of those teenage experiences that Tony mentioned? Because he really didn’t like it.

Clearing his throat and shoving his hands into his pocket, Peter shrugged with a nervous laugh, “Oh I..no. I think I made a comment once before and decided it wasn’t really my place.” and then his gaze fell to Tony’s hand—the thumb that was now caressing his soft belly making Peter’s gut burn with heat as his eye’s quickly darted back up. 

“I-I..think he looks fine.”

The elderly woman tsked and chuckled to herself, “I bet he paid you to say that, hm?” 

Peter really did not feel like talking again—so as he stepped closer to Tony as a sign that he was ready to go, even going as far as to walk around him to grab some of the bags they had along with his pack of beer—and felt Tony's familiar strong hand patting his back.

Why was he suddenly being so touchy? He didn’t exceptionally mind it—but he supposed this was just..normal. He’d just have to get used to it.

“Oh Peter’s anything but a liar. We make a real dynamic duo, the two of us..I scored lucky.”

Huh?

Peter stood for a moment, lost in thought at the prospect that Tony had just completed him. 

He thought..they..

He scored lucky?..

Why was his heart pounding? 

Or how come he could hear the blood coursing behind his ears and his own gut stirring, low and adamant via the nerves and this..unknown feeling he got when Tony rested a hand on his back or his hand ruffled his hair..

It was similar yet not exactly akin to when Tony would groan and ask Peter to run and grab him another beer from the fridge after dark when they stayed up with another one of Tony’s old time-y movies, while May had gone to bed already. Those moments more so ignited the weirdness..they didn’t churn them.

It was weird..

Very..abnormal.

Peter suddenly felt a firm shake come to his arm as he realized they had traveled all the way to the car—his hands suddenly aching from the bags and beer in tow.

“Peter? Everything alright? You seem a bit dazed. That lady didn’t make you uncomfortable did she?” Tony called through the muddled fog in his brain—and all Peter could do was nod and attempt to shake the fog away.

“Y-Yeah I’m okay. And no no..I didn’t mind it too much. She seemed to know you well enough though.” and with that, Tony nodded in return, letting out a sign as his brows rose for a moment before sinking again, “Yeah..she’s a card just like the rest of them. I’ve gone to that same grocery for decades so they’ve known me for quite a while. Especially her.”

“They got to see baby Tony?” Peter interjected, suddenly on his toes again.

Tony let out a groan and shook his head as he shut the back door. “Maybe I should’ve kept my mouth shut, hm? Such a nosey boy you are.”

Peter gasped as he playfully threw a hand over his heart, “I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear that..god what a rude man you are,” he retorted, turning with a huff and entered the car, giggling a bit as Tony entered close behind him.

“Ugh..I love the teenage attitude, Peter. The sarcasm..exquisite!” Tony laughed around his words as he pulled through the spot and began heading back to the apartment (he guessed).

“Yeah well..you deserve it after making me sit through such an awkward situation today. She thought I was your son for goodness sake!”

The car was silent for a glaringly obvious moment before Tony was shaking his own head as Peter looked his way, “Huh? Sorry what? I got a bit lost for a moment.”

Peter glanced out the window to see if anything had been particularly interesting, but it seemed the guy had really just lost his train of thought.

“Oh it’s nothing. Just keep your mind on the road Tony..Don’t need you killing anyone in the streets.”

Tony did chuckle at that which made Peter feel a little better about it all, though he did offhandedly wonder just what might've gotten Tony’s panties in a twist.

Oh god not panties..

Peter shook his head and glared out the passenger side window to try and deflect whatever had just wandered through his brain—instead focusing on how delicious dinner would no doubt be and how good it would feel to sit at the coffee table in the living room, working on his homework with Tony at his side.

— — — 

It had been maybe a few months later when Peter had gotten the notification that an academic decathlon competition would be held at their school—and that Peter had thus been given two home tickets to attend.

Of course he knew who he’d wanted to ask—and considering May and Tony had been together for nearly 10 months at this point it was kinda obvious that he would accompany them—but it was still nerve wracking..

Worrying that Tony may say no. That he might be busy—which of course would be fine!

As he got up from the dinner table to put his dishes in the sink, Peter let out a soft sigh before turning around and sheepishly looking to the both of them who were making their way into the kitchen as well.

“Hey um..so the school is hosting it’s end of the year academic decathlon competition and they gave us each tickets for the competition—and since it’s a home comp they um..allowed for two people to come.” Peter muttered, nervously twisting his hands in front of him.

He was nervous about Tony. What he would say. What he would do..

Just..

Tony..

“Oh yeah? That’s awesome kiddo! You know who you’re bringing?” Tony questioned, looming a bit closer to him as he pulled a pint of ice cream out of the freezer to get himself a bowl to May’s disgruntled acceptance as she herself claimed a glass of ice-water before heading off to the living room.

“Well I assumed May and..” Peter swallowed, looking down at his hands before glancing back up to where Tony was reaching up—old white t-shirt rising to display a strip of his stuffed gut—the line of hair evident even in the dimmer lighting.

“Y-You,” Peter choked out, turning to grab himself one of the cheese sticks from the pack Tony bought the other day, “If you want or..can, of course.”

Tony scoffed at that which momentarily concerned Peter.

Did he think it was funny?

Was it a mistake?..—

“Well shit I’d hope I could go. I hear you blabber on about it so much I practically feel like an honorary member..” Tony laughed to himself as he dug into the ice cream container with a husky grunt—his bicep flexing around the tee making Peter quickly look away.

It was..well..it had become a bit of a problem, Tony in those t-shirts of his.

They were getting tight—and as the months passed by he wondered why the hell he hadn’t bought any new ones. Peter towards the end of the night could practically see the indent where his belly button resided—and if he was really lucky he’d be privy to the way it couldn’t be pulled down at the end of one of their movies.

Peter supposed his other clothes were getting tighter too—though it seemed like Tony bought new button-ups for work regularly. They always had a bit of give—a fold or two even, which he liked.

He was happy non-the-less though that Tony had wanted to go.

“It’s this coming Friday—after the school day. You think you can make it or..or work?”

He nearly wanted to cross his fingers behind his back but figured it wouldn’t do him any good.

“Oh yeah of course Peter. Even if I did have to work—I could make a few calls and I’d be ready to go whenever I needed to be.”

Tony popped the top back on his pint and put it back in the freezer, shutting the door with a soft ‘pop’.

Peter watched him maneuver around the kitchen—and it sounded as if he were speaking but..Peter was a little too distracted by what he was seeing in front of him.

And Ned wondered why he’d gotten a 97 on his test the other day.

As suddenly as Tony was filling his water from the fridge he was walking past him—bopping him on the head with the back of his hand that held his overly-filled ice cream bowl. Peter jumped when he made eye content with him, noticing the warm, content look on his face making him wonder what he had to have done to deserve such a look from the other man.

“I’m proud of you kid. I’m looking forward to watching you compete.” and with one final graze against his arm, Tony was headed off towards the living room as well, leaving him to his own overwhelmed devices.

Proud?

Peter swallowed thickly as heat entered behind his eyes and his chest once again began to pound.

Tony was..proud, of him?

“Shit..” Peter muttered when he suddenly felt his cheek cool from the streak of a tear.

“Stupid..” He muttered out again..

Stupid, stupid, stupid.

— — —

To be honest it had been a bit of a shock when he heard that May wouldn’t be able to make it to the tournament. Usually she was able to get out of work but..apparently there’s just been more emergency cases as of late and a short of staff so she’s kinda forced to work on Friday night.

“No biggie.” Peter mumbled to himself as he attempted to fix his tie with shaky hands.

“Stupid tie.." He cursed—letting it go and staring at himself in the mirror. 

He looked good—he knew he did. But something just felt..kind of off with it. 

Probably the fact that your tie wasn’t on the right way, dummy.

Peter attempted the tie again—and when he felt it was ‘good enough’, he walked out to the living room to let Tony know he was ready.

“You ready?” He asked without looking up from the laptop on his lap that he was fervently typing away at.

So he did have work..that liar.

Peter rolled his eyes and pouted even if Tony couldn’t see it, “Yep. Are you or do you need a minute?”

Tony suddenly shook his head and clicked the laptop halves together—sliding it across the cushion and standing to suddenly give Peter a strange look..maybe even perplexed.

Feeling suddenly defensive, Peter couldn’t help but look down at his outfit, “What? No good?”

Tony hummed and made his way over as he wore his own suit that he’d sported when he picked Peter up from school, clicking his tongue in the back of his throat as one of his hands suddenly came up to tug at his tie—

“Hey.. What’re you doing?” Peter demanded as he attempted to pull away—but that only made Tony keep a hold of it tighter.

“I’m fixing this atrocious tie of yours..” He murmured, stepping impossibly closer and..

Peter’s eyes widened when he took in the smell of Tony’s cologne, staring down at his own perfectly set tie—wondering how long it had taken the man to perfect the skill.

How long he’d been tying ties..using those hands of his..

Peter’s cheeks flushed as he averted his gaze to the side—wishing his hands had something to do—maybe—

He brought them to rest in front of him but suddenly realized that hadn’t been a good idea because suddenly his knuckles were brushing against Tony’s soft gut—he’d never..

Gulping and immediately moving his hands back to his sides he waited for the man to finishing typing his stupid black tie. Why was it taking him so long?

“Ah! Tony..stop tugging so hard..” He murmured out, scowling at the potted plant resting in the windowsill across the room—wondering how easy it must be to just sit in the sun all day and not have to worry about these awkward situations with his mom’s boyfriend of 10 months. 

It’s not even anything weird going on anyways..it was normal. Peter was the weird one..the one not used to anything..all these touches..contact..it was all up in Peter’s head.

He just had to get used to it and one day it wouldn’t make his heart pound or his gut twist into impossibly tight knots that took his weeks to unravel.

With one final tug and a snug tightening around his neck causing the man's knuckles to brush against his own chest, Tony smirked—alerting him to look back at him with a light brush of a knuckle against the bottom of his chin.

“Alright sport, you’re ready to go.”

Sport?

“God Tony..how many nicknames do you have up there? Sport? Kiddo? Kid? Pete?”

“Oh don’t forget about bambino..” Tony teased as he took hold of his phone, wallet, and keys from the coffee table with a chuckle.

“Gah! Don’t call me that one..” Peter flushed when he suddenly felt Tony ruffling his hair that he’d decided not to style, letting the curls live on.

The hand was a comfort, but it was still embarrassing.

“Oh but why not?”

“Because it means baby, and I’m not..not a kid like that.” Peter huffed out after shutting the lights off and making his way out the front door of their apartment, heading right for the stairs.

He didn’t feel like taking the elevator.

He could hear Tony muttering to himself as he walked farther away—and when he was just about to reach the door to the stairs he felt a hand grip his arm—fingers wrapped around his elbow.

“Hey! We’re not taking the stairs Mr. 'Exercise'.” Tony huffed out, letting go of Peter swiftly with a heavy breath.

“Why not then? Too much exercise for you Mr. 'Too tubby to run down the hall without losing his breath'?” Peter retorted, face flush with frustration and the sudden thrill of whatever this situation had become. Tony seemed to flush as well, but his eyes were set sternly across his face and suddenly he didn’t want to be in a staring contest with the man.

He didn’t want to meet his gaze at all.

Being the first to look away, Peter took a few steps closer to press the button for the elevator to go down. He could hear Tony let out a heavy sigh of what he’d guessed was frustration when the older man joined him in the wait.

“I—”

“If the nickname bothers you that much, I’ll stop.” Tony asserted, staring forward before glancing down at him as he’d already turned to watch his side profile as he spoke.

“I’m sorry.”

Why was he sorry?

Shaking his head and shoving his hands into his pockets, Peter tsked, “No I.. It’s okay I guess. I just.. It catches me off guard. I’m not a kid anymore and I don't need people thinking that.”

Especially you, though he wasn’t all too sure why he felt so strongly about it.

The elevator bell dinged and suddenly the doors were opening, and as Tony placed a hand on his back to lead them in, soon following it up with clicking the base floor level with a finger that housed a thick rimmed ring, he patted his back so hard it made Peter fall forward a bit.

“Jeez!—”

“I don’t think of you as a kid, Peter.” Tony admitted with a strong set jaw and an even harder gaze on the metallic doors in front of them. 

Peter could see how hard set they were even through the haze.

Like that night in the kitchen..

Those eyes..corrosive, dim, and..

Fucking dangerous.

Peter averted his gaze to his own doe eyes and took note of how innocent they appeared in relation to the ones that were nearly ingrained into his brain. It made a shiver run down his spine as he soon realized that Tony’s hand hadn’t quite fallen yet. It just..rested between his shoulder blades—unmoving.

Possessive, almost. But Tony..he wasn’t possessive. 

He was normal.

normal, normal, normal.

Peter dared to look at those eyes again in the hazy grey metal and had a sudden thought slither into his mind through the gap in his mouth as the elevator door dinged once more.

Those eyes were not normal.

— — — 

The academic decathlon had over all gone well if Peter had any say in it—he’d been a bit off at the beginning because of the stuff that had happened with Tony—still feeling a bit guilty but eventually just let it go in favor of thinking about geography and complex physics equations.

Everything had gone even better when they won, Ned carrying the final question as something that Peter could remember teaching him about before class one day, suddenly remembering who he’d learned it from to begin with—and it definitely hadn’t been his teacher.

Searching the crowd, Peter couldn’t help but feel his chest tighten when Tony was staring right back at him—a wide smile splayed across his face as he was throwing two big thumbs up.

When he finally made his way down the side steps along with everyone else, he couldn’t help but wonder if..

“Peter! That was great!” Tony exclaimed, smiling even wider as he suddenly wrapped his arms around his thin framed body—squeezing tighter than he ever had before. Come to think of it, Tony had never hugged him before this very moment, and to be completely honest, Peter was shell-shocked.

Was this cloud 9? He questioned as his arms hesitantly wrapped themselves around the other man—the same symptoms returning.. A racing heart, a tight chest—a gut churning—though now it was also being pressed up against by the other’s softer stomach—fuck .

Peter suddenly gripped the man's suit jacket as he realized that they’d literally NEVER done this before—when would it happen again and why did he suddenly not wish to be let go of?

What was wrong with him??

As suddenly as he’d gripped the other man he was letting go, flushing in the dim lighting and laughing as Tony once again pat his stupid (though proved smart) head.

His skin felt hot and his body felt agitated—fingers twitching at his sides when suddenly his friends were coming up on him with a hand on either one of his shoulders.

“Peter! Can you believe it?! I can’t believe I did that—and it’s thanks to you!” Ned exclaimed excitedly as he gave him a partially quick hug. Completely different from the one he’d just received from Tony.

Peter laughed nervously, “Well..if it's any consolation, Tony was the one that helped me.” and to emphasize that the very man was standing right behind him, pointing with his thumb and a roll of the eyes when Ned was gripping Tony’s hand to shake it and thank him profusely.

He’d nearly brought the man in for a hug but Peter was suddenly gripping his arm, “Hey! Lay off the praise..” and as if it were a secret, leaned in and blatantly lied to his best friend of many years.

“He doesn’t like to be touched, man..”

It was a simple lie. A white lie.

“Oh, “Ned mouthed, and laughed nervously as he took half a step back to return back to where he’d originally been.

“Sorry about that Mr..er..”

Tony seemed to eye him for a moment before glancing at Ned with a polite smile, “Stark.”

“Mr. Stark.” Ned finished. 

Mj interjected soon enough with the motion of going out for a bite to eat afterwards without the parents, and just as Peter was about to say ‘hell yes!’ he glanced back at Tony. He didn’t wanna leave him alone but..

“Tony, do you think I can go with them for a bit?” Peter asked hesitantly, his hands returning to in front of him, fiddling. 

“Of course Pete. I can’t imagine why you couldn’t. You’re old enough right? Just no bar hopping.”

Peter shook his head embarrassed once more, “I’m not that old Tony.”

He was just about to turn around and let his friends know when Ned was speaking up yet again .

Curse him..

“Hey, why doesn’t Mr. Stark come along? You like McDonalds, right?

Peter looked between his friend and Tony, noticing the hesitation in his eyes, though those same eyes were suddenly looking directly at him, “You mind if I tag along?”

Do I mind?? What kind of stupid question was that?!

“Course not! But don’t feel pressured, of course. You can always go home or go to the apartment? Or maybe just go out on your own—”

Tony chuckled, making him flush a bit—deciding that one day he would be glad to have this random heat in his cheeks be gone for good. It was just..so annoying.

“I’m good, Peter. Relax.”

I’m trying, he wanted to say as he continued to be buzzed off the win and the hand that was occasionally directing him through the crowd of people.

I’m trying.

— — — 

It looked like Tony was trying too as the time reached 10:45 pm and they were still sitting in the nearly deserted McDonalds building. His finger was twitching at his side and his knee was bobbing every few moments as he took steady sips from his large coke.

He wasn’t agitated, at least he didn’t think he was considering his eyes still crinkled when he smiled and his laugh sounded real enough as he listened to the conversations of him and his friends—but it was still a bit off putting.

It kinda reminded him of when he hadn’t jerked off enough—though that probably wasn’t the right thing to relate it to.

At one point he’d asked Tony if everything was okay when Ned and MJ had been in a very heated argument about some show he’d never watched, and had only earned and soft smile and a comment about being a bit tired.

It had only taken Peter 10 minutes to yawn exaggeratingly even though he wasn’t really tired in the least to signal that he was ready to go home to his friends who also agreed that it was getting pretty late.

Tony had been nice enough to drive them all there, so after they took each of his friends back to their respective homes and they’d traversed the streets and the rickety elevator up to their door, Tony looked absolutely beat .

It hadn’t taken the man five seconds before he was slipping his suit jacket off and disappearing down the hall to what he guessed was the kitchen, for what he also assumed was a beer via the sound of a popping tab.

It made Peter’s skin crawl.

Locking the door behind the both of them, he suddenly wished he could remember when May said she’d be home.

There was a large part of him that wanted to ask Tony as he was taking off his tennis shoes, but there was also a small part of him that didn’t dare.

It was off putting. He wasn’t sure what it was..or why he was feeling the way he was.

Maybe it was the crime alerts on the radio that MJ had insisted upon listening to, and then proceeded to dissect—bringing up something random about how all of them had been young white males according to the reports—though Peter didn’t really pay much attention to it all.

It seemed Tony and him were the only ones that had really wanted it turned off.

Peter padded across the dark apartment, the silence suffocating till he suddenly heard Tony’s familiar groan.

“Tony?” Peter timidly spoke, glancing around the corner to see the man putting the glass bottle against the island and turning in the direction of where his voice was coming from.

“Yes bambino?” 

Peter flushed but didn’t comment on it, “Are you planning to go to bed or?”

Tony hummed to himself as he brought a hand up to brush against his chin, seemingly giving it some genuine thought.

“I’m not too sure. Did you have anything in mind?” Tony asked as he was now removing his tie in a way that made Peter feel a sudden urge to look away.

“Uh..not exactly..” to lie or not was the real question.

“I was thinking of heading to bed actually..I’m a bit tired after all the excitement from earlier.” A lie and a truth.

Peter heard Tony’s feet pad across the kitchen towards his general direction, humming low in his throat making Peter shiver, “Well..if you do decide to stay up. I’ll be in the living room looking over some work if you need anything. I think May said she’d be home between 4 and 5 am.” 

He nodded and moved out of the way for Tony to head down the hall to go get changed, he guessed, and as he felt his own feet carrying him—he realized that they’d never really been ‘alone’ in the apartment before. May had always been in the shower—or asleep if Tony and him had been 'alone'. 

Peter felt his fingers twitch with the sudden urge to do something—and he wasn’t sure what either.

He neared closer and closer to the shut door of his aunt's room and knocked with a shaky hand, awaiting some kind of response.

The door opened a few moments later to reveal Tony who was just now pulling his shirt down over his faintly-tan gut, his hair a bit rustled and his pants completely off as usual, he boxers remaining of course.

“Yeah Pete?”

His throat was dry when he went to try and speak first, but decided to swallow and try again because he didn’t need his voice cracking.

“I’ll uh..I may stay up, if that’s okay with you?” Peter motioned to the phone that he pulled from his pocket with a smile, “I have some videos to catch up on watching anyways..I’ll wear headphones and everything.”

Tony seemed to stare at him for a moment before smiling and assuring him that it was, in fact, completely okay for him to do that. Making a comment about ‘you know this is your house you right?’ , and of course Peter knew that..he knew he could technically kick Tony to the curb but..he didn’t want to.

Everything had gone fine after that—and after probably 45 minutes of Tony typing away to his laptop with a beer in his hand, and Peter clicking through youtube videos about a game that had come out maybe a few years ago. They had actually been really informative and even though he didn’t own any gaming consoles, he absolutely loved the theory of it all—

“Peter,” He heard now up close and personal, a hand suddenly resting on one of his knees that were up as his feet rested on the cushion. He nearly jumped at the feeling but upon noticing it was Tony, relaxed considerably.

“Yeah?” He questioned while pulling one of his headphones from his ears, noting that Tony had shut his laptop and rested it on the coffee table along with the beer bottle he assumed to be empty.

“You want to watch something?”

A beat then, and Peter suddenly felt a smile creep over his face in the subtle silence.

“Duh. You going to make me watch something old again?” Peter snickered, moving his knee ever so slightly and noticing that Tony still wasn't letting go.

Tony shook his head with a soft, breathy laugh and motioned down to the phone in Peter’s hand with a pointer finger, “Figured you could show me about whatever it is you got going on over here. You’ve been giggling on and off this whole time and it has me way too curious to avoid.”

Peter flushed and rolled his neck to look up at the man from his momentarily glance at the tv, “I don’t know how to sling it up there though.” and to his response, Tony just laughed a little more.

“We’ll watch it on my laptop then. Easy as that. It’s just on youtube right?”

Peter nodded, hesitant as always. 

“Good. You go ahead over there and take a seat. I’m going to grab myself another drink.” Tony murmured, patting his own blanket covered knee once more before heading off in the direction of the kitchen. He was surprised there hadn’t been a trail to it at this point considering how often Tony walked that same strip of flooring.

Peter watched him go, placing a hand over where Tony’s had previously been and stood—stretching a bit as he dragged the blanket he’d brought in from his room over to the couch where Tony had already been sitting.

Tony seemed to not mind which side he sat on—though more often than not he’d pick the right side—though his things were on the left..

Biting his lip and making the ultimate decision to sit against the right hand arm of the couch, he wondered what in the world he’d show him. 

He had been watching some sort of walkthrough—and he’d just gotten to the point where the creator of the androids was swimming in what appeared to be red laced water—though he bet it was just the wall color.

This one wasn’t even funny..it was a silent play-through unlike the other he’d just been watching, but he didn’t much care to go back and rewatch it for the sake of the other man. It hadn’t even been..’funny’ anyways. More so kinda stupid.

“Alright,” He heard Tony suddenly say as he placed down two beer bottles against the coffee table beside Peter’s forgotten study guides from earlier this week. He was glad that school was over for the year..and the snow had started getting kinda bad at times too so he was glad to not have to trudge through it in the mornings to catch the subway.

Peter watched intently as Tony slid his laptop onto his lap once more, unlocking it, and clicking past a few different tabs to get through to youtube which he noticed Tony had already had open—though for something robotics related.

Tony instructed Peter how to share the video, and when the walkthrough popped up, Peter flushed and gave him a thumbs up with a shaky, “Yeah..that’s the one.”

A few minutes had maybe passed by before Tony was speaking, “You gonna explain what it is I’m looking at or am I gathering context clues for a test of my awareness after?” the man jokingly said, making Peter shake his head and scoot just a bit closer—he didn’t want to make the older man uncomfortable though..he didn’t want to touch him without his permission.

“U-Um..well that’s Connor—and he’s an android created by this company called CyberLife? And the older guy beside him is Named Hank." He started, motioning to the two characters walking on the screen and soon entering into the doors that lead to, “And that’s Kamski. He’s basically the guy in charge of it all.”

Though Peter shook his head, “Well..not exactly. He created the androids and the company—and since there’s been an outbreak of deviancy within said androids, Connor and Hank are investigating the issue and decided to go straight to the source for answers.”

Tony chuckled as he watched the man swim back and forth which kinda confused him, and as he continued on babbling on about the intricacies of the world the characters were living in—Tony was gasping and laughing as he took another sip of beer.

“Jeez, warn a man..” Tony accused, pointing at the screen as Kamski got out of the water—no shirt and everything which made Peter flush a bit.

“Oh shut it..it’s not like you haven’t seen a guy's chest before. You’ve seen yours everyday.” Peter put off, rolling his eyes as he noticed the older man shrug and take yet another heady sip of his cheap drink.

As Peter started up again though, Tony was suddenly waving his hand and patting the space directly beside him—an arm now resting against the back of the couch, “Gosh I can barely hear you…” He murmured, “Come closer.”

Closer?

How close?

He moved slightly closer to the man, noting how his knee was fairly pressing against the side of Tony’s thigh when suddenly the man was tsking and pulling at a bit of Peter’s shirt.

“Sit—” and as if Peter were just a simple random, used his hands to motion for Peter to lat his legs extend the way Tony’s did for his feet to rest against the coffee table much like his already were.

As he was suddenly now pressed up against the older man's side—thigh to thigh and arm to his side as Tony’s hand fell to rest across Peter’s right shoulder—he couldn't help but realize that this was how he and May sat during family related movie nights.

Normal  Peter thought to himself as his mind raced and his heart pounded in his throat. Act normal Peter! Don’t make Tony uncomfortable..this was just..this was normal. What normal dads and sons do..

Though Tony wasn’t really his dad—and he wasn’t exactly his son, was he?

Peter flushed and glanced back at the screen as Tony pressed play with his finger—now retrieving the beer bottle that was resting against the side of his extended gut—the alcohol and copious amounts of coke and burgers probably having something to do with it.

Though it did appear as if Tony had gotten a new shirt, a larger sized white tee—something that could crease and fold if it wanted to..

Something that had more room.

A flush crept its way across Peter’s cheeks and ears—no doubt running down his neck to spread across his pale, smooth chest.

Tony would freak if he realized what kind of weird feelings he got from him when he did things like this..

What would he think of Peter? Would he yell at him? Tell him to stay away and try to turn May against him?

Would he leave and never come back?..

A sudden deep set fear coiled its way around Peter’s insides making him suddenly feel nauseous, and as he did so, his head fell back against the couch cushion—or he supposed Tony’s arm.

God how embarrassing—

“Sorry just..” Lie, Lie, Lie. “Just a bit tired I think..”

It was warm under the blanket he used and as it was now coupled with Tony’s body heat—it had been a hard thing to ignore. 

“Why don’t we throw up a movie, hm?”

“Another oldie?” Peter complained—shaking his head as he brought it back up to rest against his own neck muscles. He heard Tony chuckle and watched as he suddenly leaned forward, leaving Peter with no choice other than to stare at his strong looking back for a good five seconds as he soon stood up and made his way around the couch, “Of course it is!” he assured as his feet padded across the hardwood.

Peter wondered what it might be—and more importantly wondered if he would be able to stay up long enough to view the first five minutes of it. His eyelids drooped as he stifled a yawn, snuggling into the couch a bit more as he brought his legs up to his chest beneath the dark navy blanket.

Why was he so tired all of a sudden?

“Taking my seat are you?” Tony accused in a comforting tone while making his way back around the couch, placing something in the dim-darkness of the room against the other corner of the couch before holding Peter’s knees up to rest beneath them—his gut a warm presence beneath the side of his knee making Peter wonder what the hell was even going on.

‘Be normal Peter ’ continued running through his mind as he let Tony maneuver him a bit while he clicked away at the remote—eventually settling on a movie called An Awfully Big Adventure. It looked interesting enough, but he didn’t figure he was awake to the capacity of being able to enjoy it.

Tony was comfortably sated it seemed as he hummed around the gulps he took—and as Peter came back to a bit of his senses, he realized his head was resting against the larger man's chest—his ears so close to the other’s throat..he could hear everything.

He could hear Tony breathing—his swallowing..a faint heartbeat as well as the sudden sound of a stomach growl—though he doubted it was from hunger.

Things continued on like that—Peter unable to sleep because of Tony's constant distractions, and unable to move because why would he? Where else would he be—on the lone chair? His cold bed?

If Tony wished to show him the affection that he never really got as a kid, he’d take it. He’d take anything he could get.

An hour later Peter's eye's blinked open when Tony burped behind the hand he brought up to his lips, his other hand (as he had let it fall completely to wrap around Peter’s body a while ago), faintly rubbed against him idly. 

“Ghh..” Tony groaned—letting his head fall back once more to take another sip.

How did his kidneys do it?? Peter wondered as he was pulled closer by the arm around him, his knees still resting against the side of Tony’s growing and sloshing belly, and his hands rested wrapped around his own body—fearing he might do something stupid if they weren’t.

Tony didn’t want anything extra..he scolded to himself.

Another 15 minutes passed and the movie had been forgotten by him as the soft moans Tony would make became more and more evident.

He dared to ask..to speak..just..

“How many do you have over there?” Peter murmured against the other man's chest, letting his head sit up for just a moment to try and catch a glimpse via the light the TV was giving off.

“Just grabbed the -hic- whole thing.” His words were slurred a lot more than they’d been, and as he watched with roaming eyes the bottle Tony held pressed against his stiff gut—Peter realized the shirt was tighter too.

A Lot tighter.

Peter suddenly felt shame as his cock twitched in his boxers and immediately let his head return to the man's chest, hearing the burps and belches that man would let out.

It was maddening..utterly ridiculous..

Peter’s eyes squinted shut as he decided he suddenly couldn’t take it anymore.

“God you’re noisy when you drink.." He muttered—and let a hand unwrap itself from around him to poke the man in the side judgmentally.

Tony winced at the poke and seemed to shrug.

“Yeah..so’what?”

Peter could have laughed.

“So what? Are you kidding me?” Peter sat up a bit—feeling Tony’s hand fall along with the movement as it now rested against the base of Peter's spine. “I can’t..” don’t do it Peter..be normal—

No! I can’t be normal anymore!

“Is it on purpose?” He uttered out, shaking his head as his words fell flat.. “Did I do something wrong? Is this some kind of punishment?”

Tony watched him with an intense pair of eyes, though not the same kind as before or in the kitchen. 

No these..

Peter stared right back at him with tears welling up, the picture of Tony blurring ever so slightly as the older man clicked the film off with his free hand around the remote—making the room fall into a dark, static filled silence.

“I can’t handle w-what it does to me.. I can’t..” Peter confessed—feeling more tears come closer and closer to falling, “Tony please..”

His tears fell then, when he registered the darkness of the room except for the cityscape filtering past the class of the window beside them. Sniffling, Peter couldn’t help but feel a pair of strong arms envelop him into a near bone crushing hold. 

He’d never seen Tony hug May this way. It was always so light—or if it started to become anything like a bear hug May was immediately squirming away to then swat at Tony’s arm playfully.

Peter felt his arms wrap around the older man just as they had earlier in the night—only this time they were completely and utterly alone, as well as the fact that Tony was drunk as all get out.

He hated how much it turned him on.

He hated it!

Pulling away—Peter went to stand and nearly did get to a full upward stance before he suddenly felt Tony pulling him back down to the couch—it was aggressive—so aggressive.

Gasping and looking back at the drunken man, Peter couldn’t help but suddenly have the urge to push away. He was so upset. So pent up. So infuriated by what the man was doing to him that even when Tony was suddenly reaching forward and pressing his soft, warm, and alcohol flavored lips against his own, the only thing he thought to do was push even harder against the heavier man.

“T-Tony! H-Hey—stop it!" He called out past the sloppily given kiss as Tony did in fact pull away, though the only thing he did was pull at his arm and flip his body to press against the couch—the cushion rubbing harshly against Peter’s cheek as he felt the other man’s knee resting in between his legs.

“T-Tony..” Peter whined out past the knot in his throat, tears forming at a quicker pace now as all he could think about how much he hated that he wanted this.

Wanted to be fucked by his aunt's drunk boyfriend..though that wasn’t the worst part in Peter’s brain.

More tears fell as he felt the older man press him down against the couch with a strong tan, vein covered hand—the ring indenting into his bare, hot skin as the hand snuck ints way beneath the shirt—rising higher and higher till the tips of his fingers touched the faint soft hairs at the base of his neck and his palm was falling side to side from his loose skin—Peter’s spine no doubt pressing into the man's palm.

“Shut it Peter..y-you want this.” Tony warned. His fingers brushing against him as if trying to sooth him.

He did.

God he did.

“N-No! Tony..Tony let me go..please s-stop!” He cried out, wholeheartedly wanting to believe it. He couldn’t agree to this..not to Tony..

He couldn’t possibly want to be fucked by a man!

Peter felt his boxers being pulled down—letting his rock hard and leaking cock to press against the navy blanket below him—thankful for it because he wasn’t sure how to get cum stains out of couch cushions.

He’d never had sex—never had a first kiss—never had a blow job—not before all of this. Not before tonight.

Peter was terrified.

“P-Please,” Peter cried out when suddenly felt the hand that wasn’t holding him down snake its way into his mouth—pressing between his lips and his teeth to touch all around—violating nearly all of his holes with the simplicity of writing his name.

Peter felt tears fall down against the cushions as he bucked his ass up in an attempt to get away—or maybe move closer—god dammit..

“Fuck Peter..” Tony groaned out as he shoved his fingers deeper into his mouth—nearly reaching his throat making Peter gag.

Peter had and acted on the sudden urge he got to bite Tony’s fingers—hard too. He wondered if they would bleed—if his canines would break skin as the older man drew them out with a loud, heavy moan.

“You do that again and my finger won't be the only thing bleeding, boy.” Tony growled after a moment of no doubt inspecting his fingers—and even in his drunken state could see in the darkness.

Peter clung to the bit of blanket that was beside him till his knuckles no doubt went white—cheeks flushed red when he suddenly felt Tony press a saliva-covered finger against his tight and quivering hole.

Fuck he wasn’t ready—he wasn’t—

He couldn't be!

“A-Ah! Tony!” Peter whispered past his consistent cries, wondering where this had all come from.

Much of it had become a bit of a blur to him as he suddenly felt a thick, wet pressure against his hole that didn’t feel like the fingers Tony had just been jutting in and out of him with—no this..this was..

“T-Tony..” Peter pleaded, trying to move out of the way with a fever he hadn’t ever known before as he suddenly wondered what they thought they were doing—it was all a joke, right?

Something was wrong.. Peter..he’d done something wrong..

Infected Tony with something—

“T-Tony I’m sorry..” He cried, and cried more as he arched back into Tony’s movements with his own fever—yearning for the touch as his hole throbbed and his prostate prayed to be touched again.

He felt a hand caress across his face as Tony leaned farther down till his thick, heavy, beer filled gut pressed right up against the curve of his back. He was so big..so warm..so full.

“God Tony I wish there was more,” Peter said in a daze, sweat running down from his hairline and his vision blurred even more than before. He was hot—scalding even as Tony pressed deeper inside of him..his cock huge and thick—Fuck. “Please crush me..” he thought he heard himself whimper.

Peter could hear Tony groan beside his ear as he pressed all the way in—god it hurt but it felt better than anything he’d ever experienced in his entire life! The thick feeling of Tony entering him—pleasuring him—no matter what he said..

“Course I will..can’t…let me give you..fuck ..bambino..please.. ” Tony pleaded against the side of his face as he nipped at Peter’s ear before lowering it down to bite at a portion of his neck instead—no doubt leaving a mark for him to see in the bathroom mirror when he woke up.

Tony wanted him.

He was doing this for him.

“D-Daddy will take care of you Peter..” He panted out as he moved both hands to now rest against either of Peter’s sides—fingers gripping so firm to bruise as he thrusted harder and harder against his prostate making Peter moan with a disregard for anything around him. Overcome with pleasure and ecstasy as the other man used him..

Daddy?

Peter shivered and whimpered past his tears as he reached back with a hand in an attempt to pull Tony’s full body against him with more pressure..

“D-Daddy..” Peter whispered, his voice mixed with the breaths around them and the sound of wet, hard thrusts..

Was Tony his daddy?

Is this what Daddy's do?

Peter wouldn’t know..wouldn’t ever know, truly.

Tony pressed into him even more with his weight making it hard for Peter to get a full breath in as he cried from his accidental climax.

“D-Daddy!” His voice was broken and frail as he cried out into the darkness for the man that continued thrusting inside of him. It didn’t take very long before he too was cumming inside of him—filling Peter with his seed. He supposed the only difference was that he didn’t have to worry about getting pregnant from it. 

“Fuck..baby..my sweet sweet boy..” Tony murmured as he caressed his hands over the expanse of Peters exposed sides as Peter’s own arm fell to hit the floor with a faint thud from exhaustion.

“Did so well..wanted you for so long..dammit Peter..”

The words were soon enough followed by a kiss against his cheek—though this was soft and a bit sloppy, but it was warm..

 Peter felt Tony start to get up when he had the urge to whine—and when he did Tony shushed him with a dry finger against his lips.

“S-Stay..” Peter whispered past the finger as he brought one hand up from the floor as the other was brushed between them and the back corner of the cushion to try and grip for anything remotely Tony.

The man was drunk and he was exhausted—and he knew it would be a better idea to go their separate ways..he just..

The older man fell back against him momentarily taking the air out of Peter’s lungs, causing a sudden shock to his system but he wouldn’t dare move or wish for anything different. If anything he wished Tony was bigger—heavier—anything just..more.

“10 minutes.” Tony murmured as he reached for his phone on the coffee table, setting an alarm with such a simple ease. He supposed the man had had sex before.

Peter nodded against the sudden presence of Tony’s face against his own, and drifted off wondering how abnormal it would be considered to fall asleep with his aunt's fat boyfriend sprawled on top of him with his cock warming inside of his tight ex-virgin ass.

He didn’t wish to think about it—not now.

Anything but this moment was pointless to him for the next 10 minutes of bliss with him.

Tony had complained with clear disappointment over the alarm and being forced to walk around with such a full gut, mixed with his drunken state—but thankfully Peter was used to being an adult. 

He’d walked them into the bathroom and taken to cleaning Tony up with a cloth—and in return Tony had suddenly done the same via placing a warm hand against his side to say ‘turn’ and of course Peter did. 

It was strange feeling the warm wash cloth rubbing across his abused hole—and when he felt it throb momentarily he couldn’t help but whimper ever so slightly.

Tony had chuckled to himself before leaning forward and kissing the base of his spine with his lips, brushing a thumb across one of his ass cheeks before pulling away and using the railing on the wall to stand up.

It had been at that moment that Peter really gave Tony a once over.

His shirt was still on—although a bit sweaty, and his boxers had been pulled up to cover his flaccid cock—though Peter did notice the marks his teeth had left against Tony’s fingers. It made him feel strangely prideful that he was the one to do so..to mark Tony..a man who was in a committed 10 month relationship.

He figured he should also feel guilty for having this moment with Tony when May was in all reality the one he should be siding with—but through all of it he couldn’t help but feel a strange kinship with the man. 

Maybe not 'kinship' now that he thought about it..Peter shivered and glanced down across the man's bare thighs and then to his bare, pedicured feet.

His gaze snapped up when he felt Tony brushing one of his fingers against the underside of his jaw, wanting to get his attention?

“Yeah?” Peter questioned, watching the man's eyes roam over him as he had just done to Tony not five seconds prior.

Tony shook his head—his hand roaming down a bit lower to wrap loosely around his throat.

Would he choke him?

Peter suddenly had the urge to ask him to.

To make him bleed again..to bruise him like the marks on his hips and insides.

There were a million things he could’ve said, but all he did was let a hand come up to rest against the foam of Tony’s stuffed and whining belly—pushing into it and hearing and Tony burp softly.

It was strange—to feel watched like this.

Peter brought his other hand up to rest against the man’s side then, letting the pads of his fingers run across the hot, taut skin till they met in the middle—creating circular motioning in the end.

His motions halted though when he felt either of Tony’s hands come up to press against his cheeks—fingers caressing through his now mostly dried and overly messed-with curls till he was pulling Peter to meet his lips half-way.

A kiss on the forehead felt so much more intimate than one on the lips or the cheek.. He could feel the man inhaling and exhaling through his nose and could move with him when he suddenly pulled him into yet another hug. 

Strong arms enveloping him..protecting him..Tony keeping him close instead of letting him go any further than “against me”.

It was a strange feeling..Something pure..something without regret.

If it was Tony, he would be okay.

Right?

Peter soothingly slid his hands around the man's soft sides to rest against his back—fingers pressing into the plush warm muscles, fat, and skin..

Bones and nerves..

It was all just Tony.

— — — 

Peter had kept it a secret. Had always deemed it too special for it not to be, if he were honest.

Tony had never had to tell him to keep his mouth shut about it—or he never had to plead with him to not ‘ruin his life and reputation’. He’d never had to do any of that.

Tony would attend his school events and then would tell May he’d take him out to get some ice-cream for celebration—or would help him with his homework when he was a bit lost..

Nothing had changed their lives enough to create a fuss.

If anything, life was going better than expected—even the outside world seemed to relax. Apparently that stupid criminal that MJ couldn’t stop talking about had gone undercover—something about leaving a note at his last victims dismembered body.

He was glad he’d never had to hear about that again.

“Peter! Dinners ready!” He heard May call from the other room.

They never really talked about it, but Peter had been counting down to the inevitable fact that his aunt would dump Tony if he didn’t stop drinking (and eating now) the way he had been across the past 4 months or so. (they both knew he wouldn’t, to Peter’s grand and utter enjoyment). He figured May was keeping him out of spite sometimes because when Peter found himself thirsty at 3 am, he'd taken to seeing the man sprawled out on the couch asleep instead of in Mays bedroom more often than not these days.

His time in high school would be coming to an end, and if he was honest? He couldn’t wait. Tony had mentioned that he could stay at his place while he figured out what he’d wanted to do in the future—in exchange for chores done around the house which was easy enough.

“Coming!” He called back after a few moments, carrying some of his chemistry homework out to ask Tony about it later in the evening. Peter wondered if the older man would punish him for his 97 test grade as well.

God he hoped he did..They had taken to being physical, and through Tony's experimentation and rough rules—Peter found that he couldn't nearly get enough of being punished—a hand slapping his behind or a stern talking too.

If Peter had been really bad though, Peter couldn't ever help from noticing the way the mans fingers grazed across his thick black belt that rested below the out-turn curve of his belly.

Tony had never gone that far, and Peter didn't even know if that was something the man would do or if it was simply him holding his hand on his hip to think.

Peter's skin burned at the soft touch Tony was suddenly giving him on his shoulder as they both stood, waiting their turns to get dinner, and couldn't help the flush that hit his features when his elbow brushed against the mans beer gut a few moments later.

His life, Peter supposed, had become quite abnormally normal.