As much of a busybody as Tony was, he found himself looking forward to the upcoming weekend away from New York. Peter had all but begged him to take a break from everything related to Stark Industries, Iron Man, and SHIELD, even suggested leaving the country if it meant getting his boyfriend to sleep past 6 AM. Tony took his suggestion to heart but compromised with his penthouse in Malibu. Peter agreed and watched Tony like a hawk while he put his vacation days in with Pepper.
He found himself checking his calendar more than once while in the workshop, mechanical arm tapping away impatiently as he all but watched the clock counting down the minutes until it was just him and Peter and the Malibu sunset. He couldn’t imagine a better way to spend a weekend.
Everything was perfect, until Peter mentioned a “surprise” he had prepared, and now it was all Tony could think about. He really shouldn’t have obsessed over it as much as he did, but the way Peter had grinned at him and pinched his tongue between his teeth to smother it left Tony unable to focus on anything else.
So here he was, loosening and tightening bolts on a car engine, trying not to think about what dirty secret his boy had in store for him. He wanted to respect Peter’s privacy and just let it be, but a sip of scotch later, he was browsing his credit card’s purchasing history while Friday admonished him for his nosiness.
“I just want a hint, that’s all,” Tony lied as he swallowed another mouthful of burning scotch and scrolled through Peter’s purchasing history.
Most of it was pretty standard, and very spaced out: tuition payments (superheroing doesn’t exactly pay the bills, at least for anyone who wasn’t Tony Stark), textbook purchases, some nerd merch, nothing too expensive. Peter often said he felt guilty spending Tony’s money, but Tony had done everything to persuade him that he was more than well-off enough to let Peter go crazy.
Of course when he said that, Tony’s definition of crazy wasn’t spending forty-five dollars plus shipping at Maritza’s Bedtime Beauty and another seventy at a shoe store all in the same day. A quick search of the store name brought up the website for a lingerie store based on California.
Tony’s mouth was suddenly dry. His brain malfunctioned.
What a surprise.
The rest of the week crawled by, Tony stewing in his anticipation to see what the set would look like on Peter. It had looked so generic and uninteresting on the stock photo model when he found the page, but he couldn’t help the aroused throb in his crotch at the thought of what it would look like on Peter. A black lace dress with wide straps, thin black roses embroidered up the front of the lace where his chest, stomach, and crotch could be clearly seen through the gaps, and a sheer silk material that ran up the sides. The back was nothing but interlaced strings holding it together, baring the model’s ass and back.
The sultry look she shot over her shoulder for the picture did nothing for Tony. Imagining it being Peter, though, had him locking himself in the bathroom for ten minutes until he could take care of his problem.
When Friday afternoon finally rolled around, Peter having to finish his midterm for the day before they could take off, Tony found it increasingly difficult to keep his secret. He was reading into every movement, every word Peter was saying, trying to find a hint that Peter was dropping about his purchases. So far, the only one he could think of was Peter’s unusual protectiveness over his suitcase, especially when Happy made a grab for it.
Other than that little incident, Peter was frustratingly calm. He didn’t even hint at the lingerie when they talked, although he did get on his knees and swallow down Tony’s cock when Happy sat up in the cockpit to “give the lovebirds some privacy.”
It was the evening when they finally landed in Malibu, and once again, Peter was completely insistent in putting his luggage into the car himself. Tony watched him with a smile he hoped didn’t give away too much. In the car, they talked about their plans for the following day, including some time spent on Tony’s private beach area and dinner at the most expensive bistro Tony could find.
Tonight, however, Peter had insisted they stay in and just relax, enjoy each other’s company. Tony had no problem with that.
They arrived at the penthouse, taking care of their luggage, and Tony offered Happy an all-expenses paid weekend at a five-star hotel with a casino and restaurant attached. “If we need any assistance, we’ll call,” was what Tony had said. What he meant, though was, “Get lost.” Happy, thankfully, picked up every single one of his signals and made himself scarce within the hour.
Tony had expected a hell of a wait. Until closer to bed, or after dinner, or any time closer to when they had gotten settled in. Happy was barely out of the driveway before Peter grabbed Tony’s hand and pulled him over to the couch. A not-so-gentle push had him plopping down onto the cushions.
“Whoa, babe,” Tony said, a smile already pulling at his lips. “We barely walked in the door. Give me a minute to get a drink.”
“You can get a drink in a second,” Peter admonished with a pout. “I have something for you.”
Tony’s heart skipped a beat. “Oh, already? Is this the little surprise you’ve been promising me?”
Peter winked, winked, at him and put his hands on Tony’s shoulders. That pretty little blush Tony loved so much bloomed across his cheeks. “Yeah, and I’m too impatient to wait until later to do it, okay? So just close your eyes and sit here.”
“Okay.” Tony closed his eyes as Peter’s hands fell from his shoulders, and he could hear Peter shuffling towards the master bedroom. His panicked shout of no peeking! had Tony chuckling to himself and nervously balling his hands into fists on his knees.
He had to physically stop himself from thinking about what Peter would look like in the lingerie, of how much gorgeous his ass would look framed by red lace. In the picture, the model had worn thigh-highs that hugged her thighs so tightly they looked plush and soft over the hems. Did Peter get thigh-highs too, just a size too snug?
Fuck, don’t think about that.
Tony shifted to help fight off the building heat in his gut while he waited, antsy and excited. He kept his eyes shut but listened intently for the sound of footsteps coming back to him. The sound of the bedroom door coming open had him sitting at attention. His heart was thudding so hard he worried it would burst through his chest.
“You ready, Tones?” Peter asked him from across the room.
“Well, I’m certainly not getting any younger.”
Instead of giving him a sarcastic response, Peter’s next words were addressed to someone else. “Okay, Friday, just like we practiced.”
“You got it, Peter.”
The colors behind Tony’s eyelids went dark, and he cocked his head as a slow and sweet jazz song began playing on the speakers. It settled into the air like a fine mist, the beat of the drum slowing down his heart but doing no favors for him when it came to his dick. He tried not to think too hard about what was coming and completely missed Peter’s approach until he heard a very sharp clack right in front of him.
Soft fingers pulled Tony’s hand out and placed something solid and cold in it. He curled his fingers around it, recognizing the smooth feeling of a glass tumbler. Peter laughed.
“There’s your drink, Tony. Now…” The cushion dipped at each side of Tony’s lap, and he was sure his knuckles were visibly white around his scotch. “You can open your eyes.”
Tony did as ordered and…
It was a rare thing to render the great Tony Stark completely and utterly speechless. Peter had managed to break him completely.
He looked so much better than what Tony could have imagined. Instead of the generic black from the stock photo, it appeared Peter had taken advantage of the color options; the thin crimson lace accentuated his blush that had now spread down his neck and shoulders, and the sheer material stretched over the bumps and curves of his muscles. Even the panties he wore beneath it to cover himself matched in color. Tony’s gaze swallowed him up, every inch of his glorious form hugged in lace.
Fucking hell, he even had the thigh-highs, and dark black stilettos pointed out towards the far wall where his feet hung loosely from his perch across Tony’s lap. He placed his hands on Tony’s chest, a small smirk pulling up the left corner of his mouth.
“What do you think?” he asked with a torturously-slow roll of his hips. Tony’s sudden grip on the glass nearly shattered it.
“Fuck, you look better than I imagined,” Tony said, and the look of offense that took over Peter’s face made him regret saying it.
“I’m sorry, I… got a notification,” Tony lied, hoping he had saved himself from a case of cold feet. “You used my card, didn’t you?”
Realization dawned on Peter, and he groaned. “Shit. Stupid auto-fill.”
“It’s still a really nice surprise.” Tony swallowed. “No, it’s an amazing surprise. You look fucking beautiful doll. Did you really buy this just to surprise me with it?”
Peter’s bottom lip jutted out in a pout, but then he sighed and slid his hands up and down Tony’s chest, purposely pausing at his top button to undo it, then the second one, and fanning his hands out across the piece of bared skin. Tony’s free hand went to Peter’s thigh to run his fingers across the plump skin of the thigh-high’s hem, and Peter’s hand slapped his knuckles hard.
Tony hissed and retracted his hand as Peter leaned in to whisper in his ear.
“You know the rules, Tones. No touching the dancers.”
Tony didn’t have a chance to ask him what he meant as he started to slowly grind and gyrate his hips across his thighs. A pained sound escaped Tony and he dug his fingers into the cushions. Peter ran his fingers up Tony’s neck and cheeks to tangle them in his hair.
“If you’re good,” Peter purred, his lips against Tony’s ear, “I’ll let you eat me out before dinner.”