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I want you to want me

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    I need him to need me.




    Nobody prepared Peter for this.


    It was unexpected and chaste.


    He never intended to fall in love until his heart hurt and his air cut short. He never intended to harm and curse back.


    He didn't want to become impulsive — the ugly obsession for the man was making him break in the inside.


    He didn't want this.


    But, he's accepted it now.




    The motel was decent, a few lights flickered and Tony's car was parked outside; they were one of the few people occupying the place at three in the morning.


    Peter was drunk and happy, he giggled as he leaned on the doorframe of the bathroom and Tony looked at him from his spot on the bed.


    There were cigarette burns on the green carpet, but Peter didn't care.


    Tony could easily afford a better place for him, but Peter didn't care.


    Peter played with the button of his own pants and Tony smirked lazily.


    "What are you doing?" He asked, his hands rested behind him and against the matress.


    "Seducing you," Peter slurred out and swing his hips playfully.


    Tony let out a chuckle and shook his head, "It's not working, kid."


    He stuck his tongue out and walked towards him. He felt like falling down and he was dizzy and he hoped that he wasn't making a fool of himself as he took clumsy steps.


    "Are you okay?" The man asked, dark eyes following him as Peter came to stand before him. 


    Peter is. He is with Tony tonight (they will spend the night together for the first time). He is okay. He is delighted and in love.


    "You're really pretty," Tony muttered distractedly, eyes gazing at his face almost admiringly, "But, I think you know that."


    He couldn't help it, his heart skipped a beat and without thinking he placed himself over Tony's legs. They breathed eachother in and he loves the musky, intoxicating smell that the man delivers.


    Peter brushed their noses together, he then rested his forehead against the other and sighed tenderly.


    Tony was calm and collected. Then Peter said:


    "I want you to fuck me."


    It should've sound grotesque and vulgar. It should've sound wrong and dirty. But, it didn't. 


    Peter smiled widely when Tony lost his composure and kissed him roughly and carelessly. He tasted like mint and bourbon and Peter fell a little more.


    He didn't care about the cigarette burns on the sheets too because Tony was making love to him so well on them.




    "Do you love me?" 


    Tony always sigh and rubs at his eyebrows when that question surges. And, his answer is always the same.


    "You know what I think about that, Peter."


    No, Peter doesn't knows.




    "Tony, Tony, Tony."


    His favorite chant echoes when they fuck in that same motel. Sometimes in the same room. 


    Tony is so good and experienced, he takes care of Peter and puts him first —and, God, he fucks Peter so good that he merely cries. Deep inside him, filling him like his last boyfriend never did. He feels warm and safe, he spreads his legs, because Tony likes to see him like that.


    Tony likes when Peter is filthy and erotic, when he's confident and content. He treats Peter like he never would treat his wife.


    And, Peter doesn't know if that's good. Because, he doubts that Tony takes his wifes to motels and holds her wrist together with his tie like he does to Peter.


    He doubts that he slaps her like he does to Peter and that he pulls at his hair like he does to Peter.


    He doesn't know if it's good —but, he likes it and Peter is alright with that.




    Yes, Peter orgasms like he never has before.




    Obsession. Obsession. Obsession




    Mr. Stark comes to Ben's convenience store quite often. He comes during Peter's shift that is in the afternoon and he always takes the same items.


    Peter's been watching him from afar, he only makes small talk, and he hopes that Mr. Stark doesn't notice how much Peter stares. He stares at that expensive looking car outside and at the expensive looking suit that Mr. Stark owns. He stares too at his good-looking face and built body.


    Peter sometimes smiles bashfully when he gets caught and Mr. Stark smiles at him, head peaking from above a shelve. He knows that Mr. Stark likes when Peter bites his pen and leans over the counter to see him.


    "The usual?" Peter called, pointing at the packages of cigarettes behind him.


    Tony nodded and started fetching his wallet.


    It's their little (innocent) game, the stares and how Tony brush his fingers when he hands him the money, how he delivers a grin and tells Peter to keep the change.


    Peter is almost sure that the man enjoys when he blushes and stutters. He's seen Tony staring at his legs and backside when Peter is fixing things on the shelves.


    He likes the attention and he thinks about it at night. 


    Mr. Stark is reserved but outgoing at the same time and Peter can't help but have a little crush on the baroque man working in the building across the street.


    Peter Goggled him once and his heart clenched when he saw the blond woman next to him.


    He didn't care, because he kept showing off for Mr. Stark and he longs for something more than greetings and smiles.




    "Are you gonna take me on a trip some day?"


    Peter asked quietly as they sat naked in the couch and Tony's arm is hanging over his shoulders and he looks so good smoking, that Peter couldn't hold back and lean over to bite his jaw.


    Tony looked at him with tired eyes and shrugged, "Maybe."


    Peter hugged him close. To cover the pain, because he knows Tony doesn't mean it, nor does he care.




    Mr. Stark is married and Peter cried himself to sleep at night.




    Because, he's a bad person and he isn't on his right mind. Because, he's selfish and he's heartbroken.


    He loves too much and he can't get Tony out of his head. 




    "I love you."


    "I know."


    "I hate when you just say that."


    "What do you want me to say, kid?"


    "I love you."


    "You know I can't, Pete."










    Wow, blood is so red.




    Tony laugh is joyful and loud when he's happy. His lips stretches and wrinkles form. 


    He took Peter to this shitty bar and bought him every drink he wanted to drink. They sat at the corner where they weren't seen.


    He listened with a lazy smile to whatever Peter had to say. He nodded and agreed, he would lift a hand to caress his soft cheeks and play with his curly hair.


    His fingers were big and calloused and Peter had fucked himself thinking about them.


    The music was loud and he couldn't believe he was here with Tony.


    He lied to Ben and May —but, it didn't matter, because Tony was here, looking at him like he placed the moon and he was stealing subtle kisses from Peter.


    Mr. Stark was falling for him too and he was giving up on the right and ethical.


    Peter's heart bursted and he never wants to let go of Tony.




    "Say it back. I know you want to."




    "I know you love me."




    "Say it."


    "You know I can't—"


    "Why? Say it!"


    "I can't, Peter."




    Peter didn't tell Tony about his age.


    He didn't tell him that he's busy in the morning because he goes to highschool and that he has homework to accomplish.


    Peter didn't tell Tony that he broke up with his boyfriend to be with him.


    It's the right thing. Or else, Tony would never and ever take a chance with Peter.




    Tony. Tony. Tony. Tony.




    Peter sneaks out to be with Tony. He gets ready to meet Tony. He cleans himself to meet Tony. He takes the subway to meet Tony and he loves him even more when Tony's waiting for him inside his black car.


    They go to that motel whenever they get together (the went to Tony's place only once). The other day, when Peter suggested to go again to his house, Tony stayed quiet and shook his head. He clenched his jaw and Peter tried to joke shortly about his wife and Tony snapped crudely at him.


    Tony made him feel less and like nothing. Peter cried secretly and when Tony noticed, he sighed and reached over to grip his hand.


    Peter apologized and he always will if that means it will make Tony happy.


    Tony fucked him on the shower that night and Peter dared to imagine a life together with the man.




    He's so handsome and Peter's not.





    He knows that he's just a fuck to Tony. 


    That he's just this poor kid from Queens with Daddy issues and a restless mind. 


    Peter's just this pretty little thing, young and unskilled that Tony's shaping to his liking. (He's just a fuck to Tony. Nothing more).


    And, he wishes to go on dates and talk longer, other than just lay in a bed and let himself be touched like no teenage boy his age should be touched. 


    But, Tony's blind and Peter's too really. But, they're still different, because Tony is filled with lust and Peter with love.


    He just wishes that he just wasn't another fuck to Tony.


    His heart would already be broken, so he always decides to ignore that and accept whatever Tony has to offer.




    Peter cries and cries. 


    He's alone and Tony isn't by his side anymore.




    "Do you love me?"


    "You know what I think about that, kid."


    "No, actually, I don't."


    "You do."





    Peter lost his virginity to his ex-boyfriend, just so that he could be ready for Tony.


    He wanted to gain experienced and seem older, to win the man and make him love Peter.


    He would do anything for Tony.


    He would kill




    God — he would kill.




    Peter messages Tony every two hours. In the beginning Tony would answer to everything.


    Peter was happy and he wanted to show everyone his boyfriend (Tony is his boyfriend).


    Then, Tony was busy and he would only contact him at night.


    Peter was okay with that. Even if he had to ignore the itching jealousy invading him.


    —Tony started calling him and messaging less and less.




    Peter's sorry. He's so fucking sorry.


    He yelps and cries. He gasps and die a little. He can't believe this.


    But... he doesn't regrets it.


    He cries again and falls to the clean floor. His hands are red and so are his shoes.


    He falls back and calls out Tony name weakly.




    They're so happy. This could never end. They love eachother. And faith was with them.


    They were meant to be and Peter just loves his life.




    "I want you to love me," Peter sniffed, his voice came out muffled as he buried his face on the pillow.


    Tony just rubs his ankle gently and sighs like he always do when Peter start this, "Go to sleep, baby."


    "I'd love you to love me," His back shook as he cried out softly, "Tony, please."


    "I can't, baby."




    Tony was angry. He was fuming and he was red.


    Peter has never seen him like this and he tried to make himself smaller. He's been busted and he felt like his world was crumbling down.


    "Why did you lie to me?"


    "I-I'm sorry—"


    "Why didn't you tell me? Huh? Answer me!"


    "I'm sorry!" He whimpered and tried to hug Tony but he was pushed away roughly.


    "Peter, I could go to jail. Peter —what the fuck!"


    Peter flinched and he sniffed, he hugged himself instead and slid down the wall to sit on the ground, "Stop yelling at me, please."


    "You're fucked up," Tony muttered and breathed out, his hand shook and he backed away. Peter's heart hurt and he wanted to hate Tony, but he couldn't.




    "No," He shook his head reluctantly and grabbed his coat; he started to walk towards the door and he opened it without looking back at Peter.


    "Tony!" He tried to run, but he didn't find the strength. He only listened to the door's slam and he was left crying on his own, on the cigarette burnt carpet.




    Peter heard sirens and he called out for Tony again. He dropped the kitchen knife and bent over to throw up. He was in pain. He was mourning and he didn't know what to do.


    His belly hurts and his vision is blurry. 


    The floor is slippery and he hates himself.


    But, not Tony —he never will and he will love him forever and to eternity.


    Sirens echoed, just like his defeated sobs




    "Hey, Mr. Stark," He smiled politely, "The usual?"


    Tony nodded, "The usual," His grin was small and Peter gazed at it longingly.


    He stared at him go and his stomach fluttered excitedly like it always did.




    "I'll always love you, Tony."