Work Text:
It’s a nice, warm Sunday afternoon. Early May. Peter loves this time of the year. Loves the sun, the burst of energy that reverberates throughout society. People would go out for drinks, walk and chill in parks. Peter can see it all happening from the windows of the penthouse and it makes him smile. He and Tony should go out later this afternoon. That’d be nice. First things first, though. His gaze shifts and he stares at the crisp, white paper in his hand. His lips curl into a proud smile as he reads it once more.
-
Quentin,
It’s Peter. Peter Parker. I’m fairly sure you remember who I am. Are you surprised to hear from me? Do you miss me? I wish I could see your face as you read this and realize you failed. Everything you did, you did to drive Tony and me apart. I’m happy to inform you that we’re still together.
Sometimes I wonder what would’ve happened if you’d been smart enough to keep your dick in your pants. Who knows. But here you are, rotting in jail. And Tony and I? We're stronger than ever. More together than ever. You failed, Beck. You might be delighted to learn that you fucked with my head well enough to need meds and a therapist. That I can't stand the sound of the clanking of a belt buckle. But oh well. We give and take, don't we?
I want to thank you for dumping him all these years ago. I love how you granted us such a good life together by trying to ruin it. You failed man, big time. You were right about one thing though. I sure AM daddy’s little slut. Just not yours. Never have been - it’s a bit pathetic how you needed drugs to get laid, don’t you think? Tony however... Fuck, he makes me come so good. He loves me the way you never loved him. Makes me feel things you would never be able to make me feel. I never wanted it anyway. The shit you did to me. The shit you made my brain think I wanted. How's the food? Hope the minimal amounts of salt they use over there are enough spice to keep your spoiled taste buds satisfied.
I'm not writing this because I just randomly thought to do this, by the way. My therapist figured this letter would be a good way to close this book. She’s very sweet, you’d probably hate her. But that’s okay, it’s already been established that you and I are not very much alike. I’ll be presenting this to my therapist at our last session before sending it to you. You read that right. Last session. I'm done. Never better, but better than ever. Dropping out of MIT has given me the best opportunity to work with the most prestigious scientists here in New York. I’m writing my first official thesis now, how cool is that?
You should probably keep this letter as it’s the last you’ll ever hear from me. You could read it every once in a while to remind yourself how well I’m doing despite you. How you threw your own life away. I hope the pleasure was worth it.
Well, guess that’s all I have to say to you. You don’t deserve more words either. I just wanted to let you know how happy Tony and I are. Together. I love him, and I always will.
Ruff,
Peter
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Peter giggles at the little paw he drew beside his name. Beck would understand the hint and he hopes it’ll make him angry. Frustrated. And there’s nothing he can do about it. He gently folds the paper and slides it into the envelope. He looks over at Tony and smiles.
“Ready to go out and have fun?”