Hey guys! It's my first MCU story, but the idea has been stuck in my head for way too long! Few words of introduction: there are no spoilers for any movie, but let's assume it takes place after Infinity War and all is good, people are alive and the world has been saved again. Peter's 25 and Tony is just Tony.
Enjoy and let me know if you like it, if you spot any mistakes or if you just want to say hi!
Tony... I don't know how to say it and I guess that's why I'm writing the letter. It wouldn't have slid over that lump in my throat. I'm so afraid of your reaction. I'm scared that there will be disgust in your eyes. I don't want you to hate me, but I know that when you hear what I want to say, nothing will be the same. I know that, I know what I'm doing and I know the consequences. But I can't do this anymore; I can hardly bear my own thoughts. Sometimes I want to kill myself, just not to feel what I'm feeling.
It was not my choice, trust me. I fought, I really did, I tried to forget, extinguish that feeling, but I just can't! It's too strong. But I didn't want that, I did not want that, Tony, I swear! You asked me many times why I didn't have a girlfriend, why I didn't even try to find one. But I just don't! I will not fool her and I will not fool myself. Because, Tony, I can love only one person, only one person that I belong to…
Brown-haired boy sits on the bed and reads over and over again what he has just written on a white piece of paper. He angrily crumples the page and throws it to the corner of the room. There are more similar paper balls thrown around all over the place. The boy pulls his knees to his chest and just lets his body to tremble with sobs.
His small apartment is soaked with darkness; there is only a dim moon light breaking in through the window. Ice cold glow illumines some of the furniture causing its shadows to appear on the walls and ceiling. Large indoor plant standing near the door seems to come alive; reaching out with its long vines, like arms wanting to catch a careless bystander and quash him silently.
Silence… Ghostly silence creates visions and eerie fantasies in the agonized mind.
Mind of brown-haired boy lying on the bed among disheveled bedding, has been obsessed with only one thought; for a long time now. Especially at night, when he is all alone, the boy seems to see phantasms leaning out from the dark corners of the apartment and getting closer and closer to him. Maybe that's conscience? Yes, probably, because that feeling he holds in his heart is wrong, unworthy, disgusting and… unchaste - for everyone else… But for him it is the greatest treasure, cherished with almost mystic cult. And at the same time it is killing him, because the boy knows that it will never be fulfilled. He is paralyzed with fear each time he thinks about telling him the truth. No, he can't do that. Never. So there he is, doomed – because he is not able to blot out of his heart this… love? Fascination? Desire? He doesn't even know how to name the feeling. He knows one thing though – whatever that is, it hurts like hell.
The pain comes usually at night, during the day he is able to put on a good face. In the daylight they are just friends, partners, team mates – the most popular in the whole world, saving the universe is something after all, right? They are loved, admired, looked up to. Tony Stark and Peter Parker – part of the Avengers. Always having each other's backs. After all these years it is safe to say that Peter feels like the rest of the Avengers is his family. Why wouldn't he? They live together, risk their lives together, they trust each other. But if Peter thinks about Tony, there's even more to that…
He can't really remember the first time he starts looking at Tony in a different way. At the very beginning it is only delicate, almost unnoticeable and so... unnamed. He just wants to have Tony near him all the time. He wants to see his smile, to be the reason for that smile, to feel him beside. He explains that with a fondness felt towards the person who is like a father figure to him, who saved his life more than once and just cares for him. But in the back of his mind there is that strange concern…
And it is getting worse. Every time he sees Tony with a woman, there is an abstruse pain in the young boy's heart. And a peculiar jealousy that Bethany, Janice or other Anna can hug the man and he doesn't get a chance to do so. He looks away then, to avoid any more pain. He becomes gloomy and cuts himself off from all the people who were always there for him. All the questions are answered with a shrug of shoulders or quick "I'm just tired." For the outside world though, nothing has changed; he is still that smiled, happy, innocent and friendly Spider-Man. All of that is just a put-on-show.
And only at night, while lying all alone in a huge bed, he allows himself to have a moment of weakness. That's when he doesn't have to pretend anymore, because in the dark room no one can see the tears streaming down his face, fists clenching with helplessness and lips whispering the same question for the hundredth time: "Why did this happen to me?". He wants Tony so badly to be right beside him, to hug him, put his strong arms around him and soothe the pain. But it does not happen, never. The door remains closed, room still soaked with darkness. Tony is right there, in the room right next to Peter's, but the wall separating those two rooms is also separating them.
An invisible barrier; unbreakable.
It's not the first time Peter imagines telling Tony the truth. And each time he does that, he sees the same scenario – three outcomes. In the first one the older man smirks in the way only he can and tells him to find someone his own age; the second one – he looks at him with disgust and contempt; the third one - he just slaps his cheek, no words. There is no way in hell Peter is risking finding himself in one of those scenarios. No. So he tortures himself with the feelings he can't really define. Is that real love? For fuck's sake, he had girlfriends so he isn't gay! It's just Tony…
There is one thing that hurts Peter the most: Tony's indifference towards him. Since a while now the man has avoided any physical contact with him. There is no friendly fighting, no hugs, no anything. Not a single touch.
Sometimes Peter is afraid that maybe Tony suspects something. That thought makes him feel cold sweat running down his neck. But that is impossible, he is a master of pretending now. But… Does Tony know? No… He can't. He can't.
The moon looks inside the room and lights up the boy with its cold glare. Peter is beautiful. Slender body, brown hair disheveled on the pillow, delicate face, unusually deep eyes now hidden behind closed eyelids. He looks like an angel; even that cold heartless moon couldn't resist him. But he wants only one person's love.
Tony Stark.
Tonight's sleep comes earlier than usually. There are nights he falls asleep only when the sun starts to raise shyly over New York and sometimes he doesn't get a bit of a peaceful sleep, tossing and turning in bed, thinking.
His thoughts wander to Tony, even if he doesn't want that. But doesn't he really? Doesn't he close his eyes and imagine that Tony is right there, next to him? That he slides under the duvet and hugs his craving body, gently strokes his back? And then he kisses and the kiss feels like a brush of a summer wind?
These thoughts are enough to have Peter trembling like a leaf on the wind, but not with fear; he trembles with desire. That strange warmth takes over his body, hits his heart, controls his mind. Madness of senses… And then he actually feels Tony next to him; his hands brushing the skin, lips unhurriedly giving a journey to heaven, to the paradise of ecstasy. And then it happens, he gives himself moments of a wild pleasure, after which there are long hours of remorse; remorse with a dull staring at the dark ceiling and tears streaming down his cheeks.
It rarely happens though. Mostly just the thought of Tony's presence is enough, the thought of his smile and soothing touch. There is nothing else Peter needs. And he doesn't even have that; he knows he never will, because that love has to be suppressed, hidden somewhere in the farthest nook of his subconscious.
There is only one problem; he can't do that anymore.
He wants to reveal the feeling that is eating him alive – he tries to write a letter. He creates a few, but all of them end up being crumpled and thrown somewhere in the room. Because how to say those things? That would be impossible even for the most seasoned writer, not to mention him – 25 years old boy who could hardly express emotions towards his beloved aunt. But he cannot stand that anymore, the way Tony hurts him – maybe unwittingly, but hitting straight to Peter's young heart. This afternoon is no exception.
xxx
Seeing the older man in arms of some random woman always makes Peter hurt, but this time there's also anger that he feels. A few days ago he saw the same woman making out with Rhodey in the main room, for fuck's sake, they didn't even bother to move to Rhodey's quarters. Apparently James was not that interested in her so she decided to move to another Avenger.
That's why seeing those two on the sofa, kissing passionately makes Peter furious. No one can use Tony.
"Wasn't Rhodey enough?" he asks, standing in the door's frame, when the early wave of anger is gone. Because at first he just wants to pull that whore away from Tony and kick her out of their home.
Only now Tony and the blond haired woman realize they are not alone.
"Leave him alone." Peter comes closer. "It won't work out."
"Hey, easy there kid," Tony speaks up. "All is good, not that it's any of your business." He gives the girl a small kiss on her cheek, making her giggle.
"You're pathetic, Tony." Peter looks at him with scorn on his face. And that is when Tony can't hold it anymore.
"Darling, could you please wait for me downstairs?" he tries to sound as calm as possible. "I'd like to have a few words with the kid, in private."
The blond haired woman doesn't protest. After a few moments Tony and Peter are all alone in the room.
"What the hell, Peter?" Tony gets up from the sofa, there is a noticeable anger in his voice. "As I've said, that's none of your business what I do. Stay away from that."
"Do you really have to fuck a different woman every time? C'mon… She's a slut, I've seen her with James recently!"
"So what?! It's not like I'm marrying her! Stop acting like a guardian of morality. You better find one for yourself."
Peter cannot control his trembling body anymore. He can't control his words.
"And didn't you think that maybe I don't want to?!" he shouts. "Maybe I don't want to fuck a different person every night?! Didn't that pop into your mind?!" His fragile body is trembling with anger and his eyes are obscured with a suspicious glassy curtain.
"Peter…"
"Maybe I'm in love!" Younger boy doesn't give Tony a chance to speak. He knows that he may regret his words when all the emotions are gone, but he can't hold it back. That's it. "Maybe I'm in love with someone who doesn't deserve it! But I'm a naïve idiot who can't stop loving them! Even though I know it's hopeless! Fuck you, Tony!"
He doesn't control the tears anymore, they are streaming down his face. He doesn't want to look at Tony, it hurts him physically so he just turns around and leaves the room.
"Peter, wait!"
Tony might as well say these words to the wall. The door is closed behind the younger boy with a loud bang.
Peter just sinks into the floor and covers his head with his hands. Uncontrolled tears flood out from his eyes, sinking into his clothes.
Why are you doing this to me?
And Tony is left in the middle of the room, helplessly staring at Peter room's door. He hurts him, again. The words he says hit straight to young boy's heart, again. But he doesn't want to! At this moment there is only one thing he wants to do: to follow Peter, kneel over in front of him and beg for forgiveness. And then the wants to hug him and never let him go. And kiss all the tears away from his beautiful face. He wants that so much, but he doesn't do anything. He's still standing there, unable to make any move. And completely forgetting about a woman waiting for him downstairs.
xxx
There is some indistinct shadow in the darkness. It takes a few steps and insecurely puts its hand on the doorknob. It stays still for a few moments and then… takes the hand back. But it doesn't leave. It stands there without the slightest movement and then reaches out with its hand again. But it stops few millimeters away from the knob. Hesitating again…
It is surrounded by silence, bleak night silence. Everything seems to be incredibly still. There is only the darkness and a sliver moon light breaking through the window. But it doesn't reach the narrow corridor; everything is covered with dead blackness out there.
Behind the closed door where the shadow has stopped, there is a room. And in the room there is a brown haired boy sleeping restlessly, tired of crying and his own overwhelming helplessness. The shadow puts its ear to the door. Silence. It worries him. He would give everything to know what's going on in the room right now. But he can't bring himself to press the doorknob.
Peter, what have I done to you?
And the remorse hits him. Peter… His lovely Peter. He's always been very protective when it comes to the boy, but one day, one day it stopped being innocent.
He got really scared of the feeling – he cares for Peter, he would give up his entire life for the boy, without hesitation. And that's why he cannot let himself feel anything more.
That amazing boy… When he is sad it seems like the whole world is crying with him, but when he laughs he makes the sun shine brighter. He is one of a kind. His beautiful, lovely Peter.
He knows him, after all they've been through together he knows the boy from head to toes, but recently he couldn't see the secrets hidden on the bottom of his heart. They are drifting apart, Peter is sad most of the time, deadened and he… he can't cheer him up. Stupid jokes seem to be inappropriate and any other way of comforting the boy causes… fear. Terrible, paralyzing, gut-wrenching fear. Every time it comes to his mind he feels disgust towards himself. Peter is so young! He can't… He can't be in his life as anything more than just a friend. What potentially does he have to offer? Shattered heart and an empty soul? It doesn't matter that this heart breaks more each time he sees Peter, small needles pierce his soul every time he almost reaches out to take the boy into his arms but then he stops himself and curses the whole world. He's fucking Iron Man and yet, there he is, slowly dying inside. He can never let that happen, no matter how much he wants that, needs that… No matter how badly he wants to hold Peter and never let him go, how badly he wants to kiss his soft lips… He knows that the boy deserves much more than an old super-hero-wanna-be who can barely handle his own life.
That's why he avoids him, tries to restrain any possible physical contact between the two of them. He can't trust himself – he's scared that a friendly hug may make him lose control. That if he feels that warm trusting body next to his, he will do something incredibly stupid.
That's why there are all those women… To forget, erase that destructive fondness for Peter. In their arms he looks for peace and relief. He keeps telling himself that eventually he will find someone who will help him sort out his own feelings.
He's completely unaware of how much it hurts Peter. Until today.
And now there he is, standing in front of his room, not brave enough to open the door. And at the same time he doesn't want anything else in the world but just to apologize. No, apology would be only an excuse. He dreams about seeing these fascinating sparkles in Peter's eyes, about immersing hands in his brown hair, about kissing his flushed cheek… He's always wanted to protect him, from the very beginning. He's always felt that incomprehensible protectiveness towards the boy, especially after everything he has put him through.
Peter seems to be so delicate, so fragile, trying his best to hide the sensitive soul behind the mask of a confident young super hero. But his eyes tell otherwise, they are like an open book. And now, those beautiful eyes are full of tears, because of Tony.
Tony Stark, fucking playboy-billionaire, not caring about anyone's feelings on the outside, deep down inside capable of sacrificing everything for a one person.
What am I afraid of? He asks himself. It's Peter, his Peter…
Yet, somehow, his heart beats unusually quickly when the knob is pressed and the door is slowly opened.
xxx
Cold moon-light shines on a silhouette lying on the bed. He's still in his clothes, asleep, only half-covered with the duvet, face hidden in the pillow. Seeing that, the person standing next to the door smiles slightly.
The door is closed as quiet as it was opened and the man takes a few steps and sits down next to the sleeping boy. That's when Peter slowly opens his eyes, rapidly sitting straight as soon as he realizes who is looking at him.
"Tony…"
Suppressed by uneasy sleep memories from the afternoon now come back to the troubled mind with all its intensity. His body closes up and lips tremble a bit.
"Go away, I'm done with you sarcastic comments and jokes."
"Do you really think I'm here, in the middle of the night, to piss you off?" Tony gets a little bit closer.
"Why are…"
He doesn't get a chance to finish the sentence, because the ability to speak is taken away from him by Tony's hand delicately stroking his cheek.
"I'm sorry, Pete, I'm so sorry for everything I've done." His voice is so warm, so soothing. "I won't do that ever again, I promise. I'm not pretending anymore."
"What…"
"I swear I will never hurt you again." The older man softly outlines Peter's lips with his finger. Peter, even though his heart beats hard with all the emotions, rapidly gets out of bed. Just to be far away from Tony.
"Are you fucking kidding me?! Stop, Tony! Get the fuck out and stop making fun of me! I'm not a stupid kid anymore!"
Tony cuts the distance between them, "I know you're not, Peter and I'm sorry for treating you like one. I'm not making fun of you, is that what you really think of me? That I could joke about this?"
Younger boy doesn't answer. He only forces himself to look into Tony's eyes. There is no false in them – they are filled with sadness and incredible tenderness instead. And they are looking straight at him.
"Peter," repeats Tony, stroking Peter's soft hair, "if you really want me to leave, I'll go. But if there is any reason for me to stay here, with you…"
That is too much for Peter, he can't control himself anymore. He gets closer and hugs Tony with his whole body. He doesn't care how the older man reacts, he doesn't care about anything. He would let the world end, oh irony, for that short moment of pleasure. He is ready to go to hell, to the dark swirling abyss of nothingness. Nothing is more important than keeping Tony close. Nothing else matters. He waited for so long.
Tony doesn't push him away, what's more, he immerse his lips and nose in Peter's hair, inhaling the smell of coconut shampoo. The younger boy sighs, feeling irresistible warmth spreading through his entire body. It feels so good, so good. He feels like shouting with joy and happiness.
"I will never leave you," Tony's whisper is right next to his ear. "Whatever happens now, I'll be here."
And everything is alright.
Tony's soft lips move slightly, brushing Peter's temple, cheek, nose… like a summer rain. God, it feels so good… And finally – Tony's lips on his. Magic. Paradise.
Quiet hum of pleasure gets out of Peter's throat and his hand finds a place on Tony's neck, forcing him to deepen the kiss. Tony is fascinated by younger boy's reaction. Peter makes incredible combination of tender insecurity and possessive desire, feminine fragility and masculine strength. He is perfect.
Tony buries hand in Peters brown hair and the boy moans when the other hand slips under his black shirt and strokes his back. Peter arches his back, his senses are going crazy. He finally has what he wanted for so long – he has his beloved Tony right next to him, he can hear the man's heart beat next to his own, he can feel warmth of his body. In Tony's arms all the sorrows of the world disappear, all the fears are gone. Finally Peter feels needed and safe. There is nothing else he wants. Tonight, for the first time from a very long time he is not alone.
xxx
The rays of sunshine come into the room through the window, clouding it with a warm shining glow. One stray ray settles down on a sleeping boy's cheek. The boy doesn't mind – he is buried in a deep, peaceful sleep. There is a small smile on his lips, as if he's dreaming about something. Something beautiful.
The man lying next to him looks closely at his face. On his lips there is also an affectionate, subtle smile. He could lie like this forever, simply looking at this delicate boy.
He gently strokes Peter's cheek, careful not to wake the boy up yet. But Peter, sensitive to the lightest touch, mumbles something in his sleep and presses his head even tighter on the pillow. Tony's smile grows.
"Wake up, kid," he whispers right next to Peter's ear.
A little louder, delightful hum and a pleased smile is the only answer he gets. Peter stretches out, but his eyes are still closed. And when he finally opens them, he sees the only face he wants to see for the rest of his life.
"Hey there…"
"Did you sleep well?" Tony gives him a small kiss on the nose.
"Yeah… What time is it?"
"Almost eleven."
"Eleven?" Peter makes an unhappy face. "Why did you wake me up so early?"
"Because there's a meeting at two and Ross will kill the both of us if we're not there."
"I don't feel like going there…" He stretches out again and yawns.
"What would you rather do then?" Tony's question coloured with amusement seems a bit provocative to Peter.
"I'd rather do… you." And with that the younger man draws him closer and starts a slow kiss, proving he's very prone to similar provocations.
When they finally lie down again next to each other and Tony delicately strokes Peter's hair, neck and shoulder, the boy looks at him with a bit of sadness.
"Tony, is this all real?"
"Real?" Tony frowns. "But what?"
"This…" he start, "this whole thing, you being… Us, being here together." His voice is quiet, insecure.
"Of course it is." Tony strokes his cheek again. "I'll tell you more, every single day can look like that."
Warmth spreads through Peter's body. He still can't believe in that. It feels like a dream – extremely real dream. But Tony ensures him that it is real. And you trust the person you love, right?
"Tony?"
"Mhm?"
"Tell me one more thing." He looks deep into Tony's eyes. "Why?"
There is a smile on the older man's lips that seems to be the most beautiful smile Peter has ever seen.
"Maybe it has to be that… Everyone needs their time to see a true feeling. And to stop being afraid of it."
Peter closes his eyes repeating those words in his head over and over again... He hasn't been this happy before. He is even a bit afraid of it. He knows he and Tony will have to be very careful to handle it all in a right way. They will probably remain just friends in the spotlight, nothing will change. But in private - nothing will be the same. Because Tony will be there, will hug and will let fall asleep in his arms. And all the sorrows and doubts will be gone. There is nothing else Peter needs. Tony is his heaven, even if this feeling is taking them straight to hell. He is ready to go for it, as long as Tony is right next to him.
He smiles.
Finally everything is exactly as it should be.