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I Guess Amusement Parks Aren't So Bad

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Tony doesn’t even know why he’s here. All the screaming children and bright flashing lights really don’t really help in easing Tony into the environment better. He grimaces when a baby’s screech pierces the air. As a testament to being a supportive friend, Tony wanted to fix some things some things up with Pepper and well, he was supposed to look at the harbour to see if there’s anything Stark Industries can do to help with the water’s quality.

Tony wondered why Pepper just can’t send someone else, but he kept quiet when her answer is that he can catch things other people can’t. Of course, he only left the tower when she threatened to throw a shoe at him, saying that the executives are having her head for not doing anything with the Marine Pollution District in her company and wasting the budget that goes into it. So that’s why he find himself here, at the edge of New York, in Coney Island. He took a couple of minutes to look around before figuring out about twenty-three new solutions in improve the quality of water. He got bored enough and he doesn’t want to go back immediately otherwise Pepper will think he’s unproductive outside as he was in their old relationship.

Tony wades through the crowds, not really having a destination in mind as he stares at all of the booths, food and people here. All the rigged games, the made-in-China stuffed animals, and food so oily and full of sugar Tony is diabetic from looking at them. Tony will say the only redeeming factor is how people seem to enjoy themselves, genuinely have fun like there’s no care in the world. He finds himself smiling once when he watches a little girl jump with joy as a small teddy bear her father won for her enter her arms.

He stops by a photo booth, recalling how he and Rhodey once did a complete photoshoot in one of these when skipping one if their classes back at MIT. His lips twitch and is about to move on when he notices a strip of photos left behind. Tony looks around, realising no one is around to pick it up or seems to have just left the photo booth. His hand slips into the box and pulls it out.

One thing that Tony notes off the bat, is how pretty the guy on the photos is. The second thing, is how better he’d look without those sad puppy eyes in each of the pictures except the last one.

The guy in the photos is young, probably early twenties, has a sad frown on his face, eyes downcast and shoulders slouched. His eyes aren’t on the camera, just to the side and unfocused. It’s the same slouched posture in every photo, except the last one where it’s a blur of him leaving the booth.

Tony’s brows raises, and shrugs. He pockets the photos, and moves on, hoping to catch the sunset at the harbour before it’s too dark.


Tony has a cup of coffee in his hands, hoping to warm his cold fingers because suddenly, the wind picked up when the sun went down. Darn New York fall weather.

He suppresses a shiver and walks to the crowd of tables and benches. He was about to pull out a chair and take a seat before he sees a distinctly familiar brown mop of hair. Tony’s eyes fall and sees the man resting his head on the table, his eyes just peeking out from over his forearms, looking like the same puppy dog eyes in those black and white photos.

Tony pulls out the strip, and glances between the two of them.

It’s the same guy.

Tony smirks and walks over. The guy doesn’t even seem to notice him. Up close, Tony realises he’s more of a kid than a guy, his face clear of lines except for his pinched brows. The kid jumps when Tony pulls out a chair to sit with him, his eyes studying the older man in the black blazer and black jeans. He cocks his eyebrow as Tony hides his smile behind his cup of bitter coffee.

The kid’s more beautiful in person, goddammit. The milky white skin of the young man in front of him is a near stark contrast to the pink of his thin lips, his brown doe eyes sparkling with curiosity and tinged with sadness. Shit, he’s pretty.

“For a kid at an amusement park, you’d think you’d have more fun than a middle aged man. But here we are.” Tony smiles, putting his cup of coffee down. He notices a spark of recognition in the kid’s eyes, but he doesn’t seem that excited to see him.

Must not be a big fan, or he’s really upset.

The kid snorts, “Pouting alone can be someone’s favourite pastime. Could be mine. You don’t know.”

Tony’s lip twitches and the kid sticks his hand out for a shake. “Peter. Parker.”

Tony nods, slipping his hand into the kid’s way warmer hand wow that feels nice. Tony somewhat eases a little, at the warmth in the contact. Peter’s eyes glint with knowing and Tony pulls his hand away, clearing his throat. The kid just smirks.

“Tony. But I’m sure you already knew that.” Peter nods. “Big fan, by the way. As you can see, from my jumping of joy and screaming.”

Tony chuckles, taking another sip to calm the cold shivering in his lungs. Jesus, how is this kid not freezing.

“Speaking of fans, I think you just gained a new one,” Tony says, placing the photos on the table and sliding it over to him. Peter stops and stares at the photo, before an awkward laugh bubbles out of him, his hand coming up to rub his neck.

“Uh, yeah—”

“So what happened? Dropped your ice cream? Lost your shot at the teddy bear booth? C’mon, what?” Tony has a small hope in him he’s not pushing too far, doesn’t want to find out the kid has a really shitty day or something, he just hopes it’s something not so big so he can poke fun—

“My date stood me up. For the third time in a row.” There’s spite in his voice, but also slightly melancholic. The kid frowns and well, shit Tony was right, he does look way better without that frown.

“Your girlfriend always that flaky?”

“We went on this date once about a month ago, and I’ve asked him out multiple times since then. Hasn’t showed up to any of them.” Him? Tony muses and puts that small piece of information in the back of his head. He leans back in his chair, watching the kid pick at his fingernails.

“Well, kid, I’m getting bored of this place and you’ve certainly piqued my interest.” Tony stands up, and Peter looks at him with an inquisitive quirk of his lips. “Don’t wanna waste your time here, do you? Besides, if the guy is an asshole enough to be flaky, I doubt he’s worth anymore trouble after this, kid.”

When Tony gestures to the park behind both of them, Peter’s eyes go wide and he starts to shake his head frantically, “OH, no Mr. Stark. I-I wouldn’t want to impose.”

Tony blinks at the Mr. Stark. A warm shiver rolling down like a water droplet down his spine and going straight to his nether regions. Well that reaction is unexpected. Tony shakes his head, laughter in his voice, “Nah, kid, you’re not. I’m offering. So you’re coming or what?”

Peter takes his lips between his teeth and Tony has to will his eyes to not take another look at those soft pink kissable li—

“Alright. But let me pay for some of the stuff, it’s only fair.” Tony shrugs.

“Sure, why not? And they said chivalry is dead.”

They first go to a classic ‘throw at this tower of bottles’ booth, the stall filled to the brim with colourful stuff animals in various sizes. Tony raises a brow at Peter’s choice, glancing at the somewhat scrawny kid, and gesturing to the very obviously heavy bottles rigged to make it difficult to win and says, “I don’t think you’d even win the tiniest teddy bear here, bud.”

Peter looks to him over his shoulder and laughs, a sound so smooth and innocent it makes a breath in Tony’s throat stop. The younger man tosses the ball between his hands, giving the very light rubber ball a pensive look.

He glimpses to the booth manager, who ignores the other pair of people there. A small boy with his mother is trying not to cry as he watches the bottles not even move at all. The mother sighs, and says something apologetic to her kid.

Peter looks at the ball again, and with strength Tony didn’t expect, throws the ball at the tower of heavy bottles, sending them toppling over the stage. Peter nearly smirks at the look of surprise on Tony’s face. Peter just points to the large blue bear in the corner of the booth. Peter takes the bear into his arms then turns to the mother and her child, kneeling down to a knee and stretching out his arm to offer the teddy bear to the kid.

“Take this. You want it more than I do,” Peter softly says, a gentle grin on his face as the boy shyly reaches out to take the bear from his hands. Unexpectedly, Peter finds himself with an armful of the kid who jumps into a hug. He pats the kid’s back and stands back up, looking somewhat stiff.

When they leave, but not before the mother thanked him profusely, Peter turns back to Tony. An amazed look is on the genius’ face, his mouth agape as he stares at Peter in a new light. The teen flushes under his scrutiny. “You just—”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah. I know,” Peter mumbles, waving it off. He pays for another round of shooting and throws it with the same amount of force and precision from before. When he wins, this time, he takes the large bear with an Iron Man mask on it, an arc reactor in the middle of its puffy chest.

With a beaming smile, he plops it into Tony’s arms, an unreadable expression on the older man’s face. Peter doesn’t know why he won the bear for Tony. But if the fact that he likes how Tony looks at him with awe counts as a reason, then it’s completely justifiable. A timid feeling blooms in his chest, his heart somewhat beating a little faster. If anyone said that the reason why his heart is racing is because of Tony’s smile, well, he’ll deny it till the day he dies.

They stare at each other. Peter looking up at him through his fluttering lashes and curious bright eyes; Tony studying the brown of the kid’s orbs over the head of the teddy bear. With a quirk of Tony’s pink lips, Peter is pulled out of his stupor. A lock of brown hair falls onto Peter’s forehead, who is about to push it away when Tony strides forward and gently brushes the lock of hair away, without losing eye contact.

He can see Peter’s Adam’s apple bob, his eyes now flickering away and turning his body awkwardly. Tony smiles to himself when the kid starts stuttering, “You-You want-uh… you want food? They got some great stuff here.”

Tony doesn’t take his eyes off of him, in a low voice says “Sure, kid. Whatever you want.”

The hairs of the nape of Peter’s neck stand up at the gentle roll of Tony’s voice, and he suppresses an urge to shiver. He feels his muscles tense up, looking at him out of the corner of his eye, only to catch Tony staring. For some inexplicable reason, he feels his tummy tense up in knots. Peter isn’t sure if it’s because of the extremely attractive man beside him or the fact he’s just a horny teenager.

When they pass by the food stalls, somehow all the appetite they both had a few minutes before vanishes. If they were honest, they had to say they kept getting looks. With Tony—a Iron Man themed teddy bear half his size under his arm—and a timid teenager who isn’t sure if he wants to be there or not. If someone is close enough, they would be able to see how Tony’s and Peter’s hands brush with every stride, and how Peter’s cheeks burn when Tony catches him staring.

As tension-filled the air is, the two are able to talk about themselves. Tony asking Peter about his personal life and the guy he was about to go on a date with, and Peter gently probing Tony with questions about his new products on the market and a few questions about the Avengers. In between those bits of sharing, they ping-ponged off each other with witty comebacks and spunk. Tony with his fast as lightning quips, and Peter with his backhanded sassy retorts. It didn’t help when both of them keep subtly hinting about their attraction to one another.


“Mr. Stark, are you always this self-assured or do you have the fan mail to do that for you?”

“My fan mail consists of children’s drawings that I do take pride in, thank you very much.”

“Ah—I see. So you get your validation from children then?”

“Kid, if I wanted validation from children I’ll—”

“Just talk to me? Yeah, cause I would worship the very chair your ass sits on.”

“You wouldn’t be able to take my ass if you wanted to.”

“Is that a bet?”

They get to the area with the rides, the screams of people as they fall eighty-five feet from the highest point of the Cyclone track, feeling the adrenaline rush when they become weightless for a split second. Peter grins. “Wanna ride?”

I’d ride you. Peter’s eyes go wide at his thoughts I mean c'mon', with those nice thighs to sit on and those large hands that would feel great wrapped around my di—, luckily Tony doesn’t seem to notice as he stares at the metal tracks and speeding carts. His eyes flicker to Peter behind his glasses, and he shifts on his feet. “I’ll give it a pass, kid.”

Peter smirks, “What? Can’t keep up, old man?”

Tony clicks his tongue and rolls his eyes. He moves to the row of empty boxes and puts the teddy bear into one of them, the limbs and head hanging out awkwardly. Peter doesn’t lose the smirk when they enter the somewhat empty line, Tony doesn’t know what to think about how that fucking teasing smirk sends a tingle down to his spine and lower. Peter can see the grimace the older man has and starts laughing under his breath.

The ride was quick but definitely not forgettable. Peter turns to Tony after they get off, and laughs hysterically at the disgruntled look—wide eyes, face pale and brows looking so worried it was actually funny. Tony just waves him off, “Even after all these years as Iron Man, you’d think the nausea coming after roller coasters pass. But nope.”

Even with the nausea biting his stomach, and his heart still racing from the adrenaline, he can’t help but smile at the genuine joy on Peter’s young face. Peter rests his hand on Tony’s shoulder, trying to get a grip as he doubles over.

“Oh man—you should’ve seen the look on your face at the top of the track.” Peter laughs again, and Tony rolls his eyes fondly. “Alright, alright, laugh it up, you’ve had enough fun.”

Peter straightens up, his face red and eyes brimmed with tears. When one of his tears fall, Peter was about to wipe it away, only to freeze and stare with wide eyes as Tony pushes his hand away to wipe the tear himself, his brown eyes behind the glasses focusing with such intensity on Peter’s face. Peter swallows, his eyes falling down to the man’s lips.

Tony sucks in a breath as he watches the younger man’s tongue swipe his bottom pink lip.

Peter watches his eyes turn troubled, and suddenly he’s getting pulled by his forearm. Peter tries to catch up with Tony—who has a firm grip on his arm—as he stops by the boxes to pick up the bear and stride into the opposite direction. Peter’s heart picks up pace once again, the striking deep eyes of Tony Stark sparkling with desire when he looks over his shoulder to Peter.

Peter feels his lips turn into a grin, a buzzing feeling of excitement under his skin when Tony moves them through the thick crowds of the park. His long legs move on their own accord, hoping to walk side to side with Tony. When he catches up, he eyes the man with a mission beside him.

Tony flashes him his famous smile, but there is something underneath. Possibly something short of devious yet also… nervousness.

Peter just pushes his doubts away and pulls his arm out enough of the grip to intertwine his fingers with Tony. When Tony looks at him, all he can do is blink and blush. When he holds Tony’s hand tighter, he only then realises how cold his fingers were. Peter frowns, and pulls on Tony’s arm to get them to stop.

The older man turns around, a curious brow cocked. Peter—without talking—just shrugs off his jacket and swings it over Tony’s shoulders, who look at the jacket and then at him with a glassy-eyed intense look, that had Peter want to preen and turn red at the attention. Tony’s upper lip twitches, but he doesn’t say a word, just takes Peter’s hand and continues to drag him along. And well, if Peter felt Tony hold his hand tighter, he won’t say a single word.

They go further out into a more deserted area, nearby the harbour, and quiet. Tony pulls him to the edge of the cement walk, and drops the teddy bear by his feet. In a second, Tony’s hands are on Peter’s face and pulling him into a rough kiss. He doesn’t give a moment for Peter to process, his lips moving hard against Peter’s, his breath getting laboured. When Peter finally grasps on what is happening, his own large slender hands go down to Tony’s waist, hidden by his own green jacket.

The older man pushes him against the railing, his hips pressing against Peter. Peter moans when one of Tony’s hands move to his hair, scratching at his scalp and tugging on the brown locks. Peter opens his mouth, his tongue sliding against the genius’ lips, warm and gentle. Tony obviously can’t help but open his mouth as well, his teeth lightly grazing on the younger man’s tongue when he slips in.

Just when Peter is about to lean in closer, Tony pulls away.

Peter can feel the warmth through Tony’s shirt.

The thumping of his pulse.

The soft breaths fanning on his face.

The gentle brush of Tony’s thumbs on his cheeks.

Peter can smell Tony’s cologne on himself now, his chin feeling a little sensitive from his goatee.

Peter grins widely, his eyes slightly hooded as he takes in the sight of a breathless speechless Tony.

God, fuck, he’s beautiful.

They both stare each other down, and suddenly Tony can’t resist Peter for another second. He leans in quick, his lips pressing against Peter’s. When he pulls away a second later, he takes in Peter’s bottom lip between his teeth, pulling gently. He leans back in, their foreheads touching, noses brushing, breaths mingling. Tony can’t think properly through the haze of arousal, but somehow his brain is able to comprehend one thing, and one thing only.

I am one lucky motherfucker.

Peter’s eyes go wide and a soft chuckle leaves his lips, and Tony realises he said it out loud. Instead of feeling any shame, he just joins in with his mirth. He presses a chaste kiss before saying, “Still thinking about him?”

Peter’s confused, brows furrowing. “Who?”

A smile takes over Tony’s face. “I think that answers my question.”

Realisation dawns on him. “Ohhh—no I… have not. Haven’t since we talked about me taking your ass.”

Tony grins wider.

“You still wanna take that bet?”

Peter’s stunned for a moment, before a smile breaks out, and leans in for another hard kiss.

“Don’t mind if I do, Mr Stark.”