Actions

Work Header

safe and sound

Chapter Text

All that Tony could feel was loss.

His chest ached as if it could fall against his lungs at any moment, and the throbbing pain in his abdomen seemed to dull momentarily as his heart was pulled out of him. He grasped thin air, looking for any sign that what just happened wasn’t real, but found no evidence.

The kid.

Holy shit, the kid.

One second, he was standing there; pale skin slicked with a shine of sweat and trembling hands that he held in front of his face, words stuttering out between frantic breaths,

“Mr. Stark, I-I don’t feel so good..” his mumbling got more slurred and crazed as he threw his body heavily against Tony’s, and holy shit, was his skin disappearing? Tony’s heart race soared through the roof as he wrapped his arms around Peter, holding him and telling him “It’s gonna be alright, kid, you’re fine..”

“I don’t want to die, Mr. Stark.” He whimpered, and all alarms blared inside of Tony’s head.

Peter felt so small in his arms.

He continued to hold on, as tight as he could, mind racing with what to do, but nothing could have prepared him for this.

And suddenly, in a blink of an eye, his arms were empty.

All he could do was stare at his hands, as he fell to the ground.

He looked around, wanting to scream for help, wanting to scream just because his soul felt like it had been set ablaze, but he was alone. Utterly and completely, alone. On a plant God knew how far away from Earth, with a broken suit and a broken body, and no one to call to for help.

He was supposed to protect the kid. His one job, to make sure no harm ever came to Peter Parker and he had failed. The look of pure terror in those deep oaky eyes stayed glued front and center in Tony’s brain, asking “why didn’t you save me?

It was too much, too soon and with that, Tony’s body shut down.


He woke with a start, jolting up straight and sucking in air like he was drowning. His body drenched in sweat, and his lips tingled ever so slightly. He felt fire in his bones, body screaming in pain, but as he looked around, his thoughts traveled away from his aches.

He was in…

His bed?

He blinked one, two, three times, even went as far to rub vigorously against his eyes, and when the little pin pricks of light disappeared..

He was still in bed.

He looked down, inspecting his surroundings. His fingers carded through the soft Egyptian cotton sheets, which were now wet with perspiration. Suit no where in sight on his body, replaced with his normal set of sweats and a plain black t-shirt. He remembered, suddenly, and pulled up the hem of his shirt, ready to see the massive hole that Thanos so graciously put there, but instead found nothing. Just normal skin, no harm done to it.

Making swift and careful movements, he checked the rest of his body, expecting to see something that showed evidence from his intergalactic fight, but all he found was the normal scars that had been etched onto his skin long ago.

The projected clock on his wall read 2:38a.m., and Tony couldn’t remember a time when he was in bed before 5a.m.

He bit his knuckle when he realized that his hands hadn’t stopped shaking since he woke up. A sigh escaped his mouth, and he closed his eyes. If he could just remember exactly what hap-

His eyes snapped open, and his body ran cold.

He remembered.

Bones cracked and muscles tightened as he sprung out of bed, actions quick and jittery as he grabbed his phone. As he tried to unlock it with shaking hands, he growled and threw it backwards onto his bed when it took too long.

“FRIDAY,” he yelled, wincing at the break in his voice, “show me Peter Parker’s location.”

“Sir, it’s nearly 3a.m.,” she spoke, gentle and calm as ever, “I’m sure Mr. Parker-“

Now, FRIDAY.

The room was silent for a beat, and Tony could hear the blood rushing in his ears.

“He’s home, sir. Checked in at 9:34p.m. and hasn’t left since.”

A small breeze of calm swept over Tony’s body, as confusion and mourning tangled together in his stomach. His jaw unclenched slightly, but his hands stayed in fists by his side. FRIDAY said Peter was fine, so that meant Peter was fine but..

Tony was no stranger to tricks.

Before FRIDAY could ask where he was going, he had grabbed his keys off his bedside table, and slipped on his shoes, walking swiftly out his room and towards the garage.


To say Peter was scared shitless when someone came tapping at his window at really-early-o’clock in the morning, was an understatement.

Before he could yell, the unknown figure behind the glass pulled back it’s hood, and instead of being afraid, Peter was now completely confused.

“Mr. Stark?” He whispered, eyes wide. He sprung out of bed, and quickly unlocked the window, careful to be quiet. May would lose her mind if she woke up and found Tony Stark dressed like a stalker and sitting in her nephews room at 3a.m.

He opened the window, and looked at Tony like he was insane.

“Hey kid.” He finally whispered, eyes flickering back and forth over Peter’s body, as if he was looking for something. Peter gulped and ran a hand through his hair.

“W-what are you doing here? I-I mean, you’re welcome anytime, but before sunrise is kinda not what I had in mind if you wanted to talk to me in pers- okay, what are you doing?” He came to a stop with his mumbling as Tony reached out and suddenly cupped his hand around Peter’s jaw. The breath in his lungs left him, and he could feel his face turning red.

“Um…” he said, as Tony’s fingers felt along his jaw, his cheeks, his throat, and Peter wondered if he was still dreaming. He kept his eyes averted from Tony’s, unsure what to say or what to do. Was he supposed to laugh? Was he supposed to lean forward, just enough to..

Was he supposed to do anything?

Before he could choose to anything, Tony leaned forward. Peter’s breath hitched as chapped lips brushing the corner of his mouth, and he felt something wet against his cheek. Was Tony… crying?

Peter closed his eyes, and reached up to grip onto Tony’s wrist, gripping lightly.

The kiss (if you could call it a kiss, even if it was nothing more than a gentle touch to the outside corner of his lips) lasted nearly 15 seconds, and while it happened, Peter couldn’t help but wish for more.

But he said nothing, and when Tony leaned back, eyes slightly red and wet streaks down his face, he kept his mouth shut. He felt as if Tony needed that, and he didn’t want to ask why.

Tony’s hand left Peter’s face, slowly brushing his fingertips against his lips, and Peter’s hand fell against the window frame.

They stayed silent for a moment, just staring. Taking in… well, Peter didn’t know. But he let himself fall flush against the heat of Tony’s stare, and wondered where this was going. His fingers tingled with anticipation.

“Don’t you ever do that to me again.” Was all that Tony muttered. Peter raised an eyebrow, was he talking about what just happened? Because he wasn’t the one to instigate it and if Tony was just here to toy with his feelings, well he could just fuc-

Swiftly, Tony leaned in again, this time with more fever, and kissed Peter directly on the lips. And once again, Peter was left speechless. Tony’s beard scratched against Peter’s soft skin as he kissed him. It was hard, and soft, and everything that Peter ever needed all at once. He felt a groan bubble up from his chest as he felt Tony’s hand return back to his neck.

He had so many questions, so many things he wanted to say. Thank you for finally doing this, he thought. I was too scared to do it myself, he thought. You’re everything to me, he thought. I love you, he thought.

But as quick as it happened, the pressure against him was gone once again, and his neck was cold where Tony’s touch was. He opened his eyes, just in time to see Tony shimmering down the escape ladder. His body hummed, wound up and tight, slightly disappointed.

He clamped his jaw shut, to stop himself from yelling out for the man, and leaned back into his room. Closing the window quietly, he fell back into his bed, heart still racing. He wanted to laugh, to cry, to touch himself, but he didn’t let himself. Maybe Tony just did that because he could, because he knew how much Peter idolized him, because he knew he could just take and Peter wouldn’t say no.

Tears pricked against his eyes, angry at Tony but mostly angry at himself. How could he let-

A buzz from his phone made him look over to his bedside table. He sighed and sat up, rubbing his eyes and cursing himself. However, when he unlocked his phone, his body froze and a smile fell over his face.

Will talk tomorrow about this, but just needed feel you. I love you, kid. Get some sleep - T.S.


Tony knew he’d never tell Peter the real reason that night had happened.

He couldn’t just tell the kid that he had felt him disintegrate in his arms, because he didn’t know if what he truly saw was real or not. Wether it be a nightmare, or some other form of reality, Tony couldn’t possibly explain it. All he knew is that he had another chance.

Another chance to love Peter the right way.

 

Chapter Text

A few days passed before Tony had built up the nerve to finally text Peter about what had happened. He sat outside on the little marble bench that Pepper installed years ago when they had first moved into the mansion, and it felt odd for Tony to text Peter while sitting on the bench.

But the night sky looked so clear and beautiful, that he pushed past memories away and stared at his phone in his hands.

The kid had been texting him nonstop for the last few hours, asking if he was ever going to get an answer. Tony had started to write out what he wanted to say thousands of times in the last 84 hours, but could never find the right words to say. After what he saw, what he dreamt, there were so many things he wanted to say and more. Being the man who he was, and the man he always had been, made it especially difficult for him to tell Peter what he truly felt.

He had no true explanation for his motives that night, only that he needed to be completely sure that Peter was there. Maybe he had fucked up, maybe he had started something he really shouldn’t have, but after feeling the kid die in his arms…

Sighing, he opened up his Messages under the name “Spidey-boy“, and scanned his eyes over the multiple texts he had received and not read.

Hi Mr. Stark!!

It’s Peter by the way, if you didn’t have my number saved

Just thought I’d check in to see when you wanted to chat, ya know, about stuff

I have to say, I’m getting kind of nervous ha ha

Mr. Stark?

Did you change your number on me again

Because that would be rude

Btw, Think I just saw Clint at the grocery store? Thought he died? Or does he just not hang with you guys anymore

UM..

I haven’t been able to sleep since that night

Thinking about you

Tony??

Tony’s heart fluttered uncomfortably against his ribs, thinking about Peter laying awake at night, imagining what had happened. He groaned, wondering if Peter was the first person to give him goddamn butterflies since Pepper.

He shook his head, making his mind ease, and let a whoosh of air out of his lungs. His fingers started to move on their own.

Sorry kid, been busy with… Stuff. - T.S.

“Fuck.“ Tony muttered, wondering when he had lost his charming ways. He truly mourned for the days when he could get through a sentence without being awkward.

Anyways, what are you up to this Friday night? - T.S.

He closed his eyes as he pressed send, and turned his phone upside down in his hands. He breathed in deep, trying to will his nerves to settle. He hated feeling so completely juvenile, so scared to send a simple text, and he hated it even more when the phone buzzed in his hands, making his stomach roll in anticipation.

Preteen girl: Tony Stark edition.

However, he couldn’t help but smile slightly as he read the eagerness in Peter’s words.

Absolutely nothing!! Why, what’s up?

He typed out a short reply.

Tell Aunt May that you need to use my lab for a  homework assignment, and that you are going to be late. - T.S.

Before he could get an answer he sent another quick text.

Dinner’s on me. Be here at 7 PM. – T.S.


It was a few hours later, when Tony got his reply.

Took some convincing but I got her to break. She told me if I’m going to be so late, it would be safer for me to sleep over…

Tony grinned, feeling something shift deep below his skin.

Bring sweatpants. It gets cold at night with the A.C. - T.S.

Chapter Text

Peter swore he didn’t take more than two showers that afternoon.

Okay, maybe three, but it wasn’t his fault, really. He just got really sweaty when he was nervous. And boy oh boy, was he nervous.

Getting May to agree was the easy part. Even with his stammering, and his awkward wording because he was shit at lying, he had got her to agree to let him go over in under an hour.

“Tony has to call me when you get there, that’s my only rule. It’s not that I don’t trust you, Peter, but now that I know that you’re..” She said as she gestured towards Peter’s room, and he groaned quietly. Ever since May had walked in while he was still wearing his suit, the rules had become a thousand times stricter than before.

Yeah, her nephew was a crime fighting superhero who could get himself killed at any moment now, but he was still a teenager. But Aunt May’s rules are Aunt May’s rules.

“Yeah, yeah, okay, I’ll have him call as soon as I walk in, sounds great, thanks May!” He shouted as he turned around and sprinted into his room. May stammered out a few more things, but Peter couldn’t hear her over the rushing blood in his ears.

He was going to spend the night at Tony’s.

As hard as he tried not to squeal gleefully, he couldn’t help the whoop he let out as he spun around. He felt light on his feet, energy flowing through his bones.


Approximately two hours later was when the realization of what he was doing finally sunk in, and that's when Peter started freaking out.

“What am I doing?” He groaned, twisting around on his bed anxiously. It was only Tuesday, which meant there was 3 days before his appointment (or was it a date? A meeting? A get together? He didn’t truly know) with Tony, and it felt like a lifetime away.

A million different scenarios danced around his mind, wondering what Tony was going to do once he was there.

Was Happy going to be there? Or just them? Would Tony sternly, yet politely tell Peter that what had happened would never, ever happen again? Would he yell at Peter for kissing back?

Or.

Or would Tony slink his arms around Peter’s waist, pulling close, close, so close, until they were pressed together? Would he gripped Peter’s hips between his hands and let his lips press against the column of Peter’s pulse line, as it soared and rushed? Would Tony slide his thigh up, up, up, until it was hard pressed against Peter’s aching cock, teasing Peter softly for being so easy?

Would Peter moan and grip and beg like a whore?

A car alarm outside jumped him from his thoughts, and a wet pant fell from his lips. He looked outside, and watched as a man ran through the ran and held his keys up to stop the noise. At once, it was quiet, and Peter felt the guilt fall over his body like a blanket as he looked down at the bulge in his boxers.

Flushed, Peter closed his eyes and rolled over onto his side, breathing in through his nose and out through his mouth, willing for himself to calm down. After a few moments, his heart beat calmed and he opened his eyes.

“I’m fucked.” He whined, and pulled his pillow over his face.

Three days. He had three days to figure his shit out.


“FRIDAY, alert me when Peter Parker is here.”

“Yes, sir.”

Tony nodded his head absent-mindedly, and rubbed the back of his neck.

The past three days had worn on Tony, slowly driving him insane. Most of the time he spent writing a text out to Peter to tell him that he was cancelling, that this was a stupid idea, that he had no idea what he was doing.

The rest of the time, he spent imagining what he was going to do.

He knows what he needs to do. He needs to tell the kid that what happened was a mistake, and that it was absolutely never going to happen again. Then he was going to have to remind the kid that he was 16 years old, and that no matter what he said, nothing was going to change the fact that they could not do this. He’d let the kid crash on the guest bed, and send him off on his merry way in the morning with a light reminder that they would still be in contact, and that he could call Tony whenever he needed help.

It was a great plan, a real great plan.

But Tony couldn’t help thinking about what could happen instead.

Passing visuals of Peter pinned up against a wall, mouth open and eyes wide, Peter laid out on the cotton sheets of Tony’s bed, sweet gasps and moans falling from his lips, Peter hugged tightly around Tony’s cock, pink and flushed against the slow movements inside of him.

Peter’s mouth shaped around Tony’s name as he came.

Tony tried so fucking hard not to think like that, but they came and went and always caused Tony’s legs to shake.

He couldn’t, he couldn’t, he couldn’t.

But what if…

“Peter Parker has arrived, sir. Should I let him in?”

Tony sucked in a breath, glancing at his watch, realizing he had spent the last 14 minutes thinking about Peter’s body beneath him. He cursed himself, feeling his stomach turn.

He couldn’t, he couldn’t, he couldn’t.

“Sir?”

“Uh,” he said, shaking the thoughts from his head, “yeah, let him in.”

He heard the front door click open, and the light footsteps of sneakers on hardwood. Cracking his knuckles, Tony steadied himself against the edge of the kitchen counter, counting his breaths and willingly his body to calm.

He couldn’t, he couldn’t, he couldn’t.

Then the kid appeared in sight, bag slung over his shoulder and stupid half smile plastered on his face. Tony’s heart stuttered. In, out. In, out.

“Hi, Mr. Stark.”

He totally could.