"That was- that- wow! That was awesome!" Peter shrieked out, landing softly on all fours on the roof of Tony's apartment above the Stark tower. Tony let out a few low chuckles at Peter's enthusiasm, landing on the platform with a thud before strolling into his apartment, metal arms arching around him to strip him of his suit. Peter followed, hands making sporadic movements around the air in front of his chest in excitement.
"Did you see that? When that guy caught your boot and- and you were like "Woah!" and you- you were gonna crash- I saw it- but then I caught you," he said, motioning as if he were holding a body bridal style in his arms. Tony padded- bare foot- through the double glass doors and made his way to the bar, a quick "Welcome back Sir, Mr. Parker," fell into the background in the slightly british, feminine voice of FRIDAY (who seemed a little amused herself and far too knowing for Tony's liking).
"And you were just like, in my arms and I could lift you, like, all 500 pounds of armor plus your body weight and I was- and you were- and it was just so cool," Peter continued, finally pulling his mask off his face to reveal a grin that practically split his boyish face in two. Tony let out a surprised bark of laughter at the sight of the disheveled hair and the spark in the spiderling's eyes.
"You did. I was there. Pretty impressive," he said, pulling out a glass and a few metal cubes that had been cooling in the mini freezer, letting them fall into the short glass with a loud tinking noise.
"Of course, the whole super human-spider strength is a little cheating," he added before grabbing a bottle of scotch from under the bar, "But still impressive," He took a small sniff from the neck of the bottle, feeling his muscles relax, "Good job, kid,". He poured himself a drink and, after lifting the glass and admiring the caramel color of the liquid, found Peter practically beaming at him like he had fucking said 'I do'.
"Thanks, Tony," he said, smile not hiding the serious undertone of the words. Finally, Peter tore his attention away from Tony (a curious stare that Tony could only call 'lingering' and 'hormonal'), and strode towards the living area, hopping down the few steps to the lowered platform where the couches and a large mahogany table sat. He grabbed a pair of pajama bottoms off the back of the couch and, without turning around to face Tony, started to peel the body suit off his long frame. Tony watched from the edge of his vision, casually sipping at his scotch, wishing there was a desecriet way to ask FRIDAY to record what was happening in his living room. Suddenly, a cloud passed over the bright sun and he could see the reflection of Peter in the large windows from the sudden lack of light and- was he smirking at him? Peter looked at Tony's own reflection in the glass and gave him a hot look from under his eyelashes and Tony would not be surprised if his glass cracked in his hand. The sun came back and Peter straightened, pulling the loose pants over his ass and turned towards Tony, smiling brightly as if nothing had happened. He stopped by the other couch, grabbing a plain green t-shirt and giving it a testing smell before deeming it clean enough to pull over his head. It was too big for him. It was Tonys. Tony knew that shirt. He had taken it off after a particularly hard work out the other day, wanting nothing more than to sit in his shower and poke thoughtfully at his sore legs. He knew it ranked. Knew it smelt nothing but sweat and armpits and Peter put it on willingly, his eyes practically rolling back at the scent of it and- wow was it hot in here?
Peter strolled up to the bar counter, leaning heavily on the smooth surface with his shoulders scrunched up and back arched. He took Tony in. His hair was a mess, matted to his head from being in the Iron Man helmet. He wasn't wearing his normal body suit (the call to action too sudden to change) and instead sported dark blue jeans and a Metallica shirt, both were two sizes too small- a purposeful decision if the stretch of fabric across his shoulders and the way the denim around his thighs left nothing to the imagination. Peter fiddled with a string that hung from the sleeve of his shirt, enjoying the smell of Tony from the collar before looking back up at Tony with a sideways grin.
"Can I have a drink?" Tony almost choked at the question before raising a brow at the teen. He let his famous shit eating grin take over his face, not bothering to turn to Peter.
"I don't know, kid. You're just… so young," he drawled out, taking a casual sip of his scotch and relishing the burn it left down his throat. He wondered briefly if Peter had ever even touched alcohol. He was only 18, but most 18 year olds have been to enough parties to at least have had a beer or two. But Peter just seemed, he doesn't know, like the kind of kid that went to bed at 9 pm sharp when he wasn't up all night building computers.
Peter sighed, his eyes rolling over in an exasperated way.
"C'mon Tony. I'm an adult. Im pretty sure I can handle a shot of scotch," he said as-a-matter-of-factly. Tony grinned at him while shaking his head.
"I don't know, kid," he was already taking out another glass, "Its kind of… illegal. I mean, to soil your young body with the devils coffee?" Tony tsked at Peter, pouring himself another two fingers without breaking eye contact. Peter gave him another look through his eyelashes and- Jesus, did he practice in a mirror or something?
"C'mon. I- I think if I can handle Tony Stark I can handle a shot of scotch," he said and Tony let out a surprised laugh at the comment. He had to give him that.
"Well, okay. But only if you ask nicely," he said, already grabbing two more metal cubes to clank into the glass. Peter let out another sigh, knowing what the older man wanted and, shifting his weight so his back arched a little extra before looking up at Tony with embarrassment tinging his cheeks.
"Can I have a drink, daddy?" And Tony was pouring the scotch into the small glass with shaking hands because- fuck.
Peter had earned the first drink, but the next two were just earned dirty. Pure manipulation: the word "daddy' falling from his lips- no- dripping from his lips, and the occasional thigh to thigh contact or the way he arched his back when he leaned over and- wasn't this kid a blushing virgin like, a few weeks ago? He drank his scotch like a champ, not even stumbling a little when he got up to ask 'daddy' nicely if he could have another few fingers and Tony would oblige with shaking hands because he wanted nothing more than to give Peter a few of his own fingers-
"We should go out," Peter drolled, head resting back against Tony's arm that was slung over the back of the couch. The tv was on some show on HGTV and muted because Tony had wanted to hear the full effect of Peter's slightly drunken voice and the teen didn't seem to mind the absence of noise at all.
"Yeah? Where to?" Tony asked, feeling his drink only slightly. He was an alcoholic, after all.
"I donno. I'm hungry," Peter said, placing a hand on Tony's thigh and even the alcohol couldn't stop the strain against his pants. He stood, holding a hand out to the teen with a large smile on his face.
"I'll have Happy take us anywhere you want, spiderling,"
Peter got into the back of the car after Tony ducked in, holding a hand out to the teen he figured should be off kilter by now but, surprisingly, slipped into the seat smoothly. He closed the door and immediately moved into Tony's space. Happy looked in the rear-view mirror, a grin on his face.
"Where we goin' today?" he asked before he caught sight of Peter practically folding over Tony, small frame trying its best to cover Tony's completely as light fingers filtered up under his shirt and over the warm light of the reactor in Tony's chest. The older man let out a small noise of will power from the depth of his chest before gaining Peter's attention, noticing that Happy had looked away immediately and had already started down the long driveway.
"Where do you wanna go?" Tony asked and Peter gave him a confused look. Go? Go where? Right here was perfect- was all Peter needed. It seemed silly to go anywhere that wasn't pressed against the heat of Tony's chest, the overwhelming feeling of his large hands on the back of his thighs.
Peter let a shiver run through him before Tony took his face in his hands, a huge grin crinkling his eyes, smile lines radiating from the corners, lines running from the edges of his mouth to his nose- Jesus when did Peter start to get hot from old guys?
"I donno'. Anywhere. Food court?" Peter said breathlessly and Tony could see Happy nod before closing the dark window that shielded them from his portion of the cab, an all too knowing look in his eyes.
Tony knew Peter was drunk. He was good at it, legs sturdy under him and body moving quite normally, but he could tell. The look in his eye, the way his mouth moved, the way his hands had way more confidence than usual. Tony had only had Peter once. A single, mind blowing one time deep in his lab, the word 'daddy' never more appealing. He knew Peter, knew when he could push and when he shouldn't. Knew how to make him flush from his ears to his belly. Knew how to spark heat and curiosity in his eyes, knew how to push his buttons until he was shyly but firmly kissing him, his body suit clinging to him, leaving nothing to the imagination under Tony's hard hands.
But he wasn't an idiot, no matter what Fox News said. He knew the age difference, knew the experience gap, knew that Peter, even outside of teasing and sideways grins, was actually young and fragile. Knew that one wrong move could wind Tony up alone, an old man with a sick fetish for-.
He knew how to handle Peter with care. Which is why he hadn't pushed anything after he had, lets be honest, fucked Peter senseless in his lab a few weeks ago. Peter came to him, and he liked that. Liked knowing the teen was 100% sure of his actions before Tony gave in and let himself press his lips to the spiderling's mouth in an almost desperate way. Liked putting Peter in charge of the when and where and how, even if he gave himself to Tony completely, sinking into his arms, submission radiating off him in waves, he liked to know Peter was in control of these situations.
Which is why, even as his cock begged him otherwise under the graceful hands of the foul mouthed teen, Tony was able to push Peter off him gently, a firm kiss to the forehead reassuring and full of meaning: 'I really fucking want this and you're making it so damn hard but I can't have you this way please sober up first'. It didn't stop Peter from letting out a whine at the action and Tony chuckled breathlessly, adjusting himself carefully.
"You should eat something. You will feel better," He said against Peter's hair, breath hitching as the teen managed to get a leg around his hip.
"I wanna stay here, daddy," Peter let out with a whine and fuck. He knew he was going to leave bruises from where he gripped the teen's shoulders, a groan slipping over his tongue.
"You said you wanted to go out and eat. We do that first," he groaned again when Peter licked at his chin, so fucking desperate and pliable under his hands.
"C'mon, Peter. Be good for daddy," he tried to reason. Peter huffed under him, grasping at Tony's biceps before unhooking his leg, grumbling something that sounded like an 'okay daddy' and looking up at Tony through his eyelashes and- thank God the car stopped and he knew they were at the rather large food court.
"C'mon, kid. Lets get some food in you, yeah?" He said, prying Peter's hands off him and moving towards the car door, slipping on sunglasses in hope they would hide the desperate look in his eyes.
They ended up wandering the food court for a good half hour before Peter decided on mexican. He ended up ordering every meat they offered in his burrito as well as two servings of guac (yes, they both knew it was extra) and every rice, bean, and salsa they offered. It was over 20$ for just the burrito and when Tony paid with a generous tip to the small girl at the register for putting up with having to roll a burrito the side of his own arm Peter lit up in appreciation.
"Thanks, daddy," he said under his breath, his head leaning against Tony's shoulder and he gave a smile and a few extra bucks in the tip jar when he realized the girl had heard the teen- if the look on her face said anything.
They sat at a table and Tony watched the teen eat the human baby-sized burrito with gusto until he was leaning back in his char, a content sigh playing on his lips. If that didn't suck the liquor out of him nothing would.
"C'mon, kid. Lets go shopping," Tony said, throwing away the remains of their meal. Peter gave him strange look and Tony suddenly realized he was on a date. A date with a horny, mildly drunk guy about 30 years younger than him, but a date none the less. He gave a nervous grin to Peter, pushing his sunglasses over his eyes before swallowing hard.
"I mean, I've seen what you wear on a day-to-day basis. If you're gonna play the teenage heart-throb superhero schtick, you gatta at least look the part for the press," he said as nonchalantly as he could. Peter frowned at him for a second before reaching up a little to take Tony's sunglasses off and, well, he let him because he was Peter, and curse whatever God happened to be looking because he couldn't refuse Peter anything when he had that small look on his face. Peter took the glasses off and gave Tony a smile before placing the glasses into his pocket.
"I feel better now. We can go shopping if you want. Thank you, daddy," he said and Tony had never heard him say the word 'daddy' with anything but sex and need so the sudden tenderness and affection and honesty in the word was so unexpected he almost chocked on his own tongue. Peter looked at him with such a trusting and loving look that made Tony want nothing else but to scoop up the teen and, God help him, make love to him. Tony shook the thought away, not able to remember the last time he grew hard with affection, and lead Peter away from the food court towards the small strip mall with a soft hand on the small of the teen's back. They wandered, filtering through the shops before Peter stopped in front of a large display window, male mannequins displaying sharp looking suits, similar to the ones Tony wore when he needed to look presentable for the public.
"You want one?" Tony asked, backing up a few steps to meet Peter's stare. Peter sighed heavily.
"They're too expensive. So much money for a stupid suit? Its dumb but, I guess as a dumpster diver I've always wanted to know what it felt like to wear one," Peter admitted before realizing Tony had made his way into the store already, waving Peter in.
"They're not expensive, Peter. Lets get you a nice suit," he said and Peter followed uneasily. They browsed the store, looking through different cuts and styles and colors before Peter set himself on a slim cut outfit with red accents. Tony told himself the red was because of the whole Spider Man thing, and had nothing to do with Iron Man, even when Peter seemed to spring for the gold watch and cuff links and gave Tony a look so endearing he thought he would crumble right there.
Peter took plenty of suits into the dressing room, Tony sitting patiently, flicking through his phone, odd memories of Pepper falling into mind. She was the only other person Tony was willing to take out shopping sand actually wait in interest as she tried on different 700$ pairs of six inch heels or 1,000$ dresses for their next gala appearance. In fact, there was another party the strong red head sent from heaven had recently scheduled and Tony briefly wondered if Peter would join him. Not as a date, of course. Peter, a kid three decades younger than himself, as his date would send the press, and himself, into a wild frenzy. Not to mention Tony was only known for having tiny, cute girls hang off his arm and certainly not known for guys of any age to be at his waste. Imagine that, a gay, pedophile Iron Man saving the world? He would be a disgrace, a stain on America's name. His stomach pulled at what Steve would think, deep somewhere in Wakanda, watching the news of Tony Stark with a young Peter Parker on his hip-
He didn't think of Ste- Rodgers. Didn't think of the odd friendship that was suddenly lost. He had better things now. The occasional visit from Natasha, the wisdom of Vision, the warm feeling he thought he would never feel again from Peter at his side. And this wasn't classic 'Tony Stark hiding from his problems'. Even Pepper could tell he was happy again, and if he saw Pepp's approval he knew he was doing something right. The Avengers would always have a weird hold on his heart but, when he thought of Bruce somewhere in the Philippines, Natasha somewhere in central Europe, Vision sitting with Wanda somewhere in the mid-west, and Peter in the changing room next to him, he could feel the strange warmth in his heart. Could feel the security of this new, abridged Avengers team and (even if it was very small) a tiny pice of him still felt confident that the rest would come if he needed.
The thoughts of all his long-distance friends came to a halt and melted away when Peter came out of the dressing room, hands on the waste of his pants as he gave Tony an uneasy look, the suit obviously too small for him. He fisted at his jacket, shrugging slightly.
"This was my size before the whole… you know. Guess I forgot I had changed this much..." Peter looked lost, forlorn as he tried to roll up the sleeves and a man with two out of three pieces to a rather good looking suit came up to Peter, coaxing him to spread his arms and legs so he could take his measurements. Tony stood, leaving his phone on the cushion of the chair as he approached Peter and the other man could see enough in Tony's eyes to back away with a "I'll get you a better size, sir" and slinking out of the dressing rooms. Peter gave Tony a helpless and shy look before Tony was flush with him, hands placed gently, practically floating over, Peter's hips. He leaned down the few inches to Peter's ear.
"The color looks good on you," He said and he felt Peter sigh in relief, eating up the compliment.
"I figure'd you would like the color" Peter said, bringing his hands to Tony's elbows, encouraging a tighter grip on his hips. Tony bit his tongue rather sharply.
"Thought you did that 'cause of the Spider suit," he stated, allowing his fingers to tighten around the jut of Peter's hips, his nose digging into the soft flesh behind Peter's ear to breathe him in
"Red and gold are your colors. I figured you'd appreciate it. They're my favorite colors, daddy," Tony's mind stuttered to a halt, hands instinctively dragging the teen flush against him. He could hear approaching foot steps of the store's employee before they stopped suddenly and retreated. With the retreating footsteps Tony let himself wrap an arm around Peter, feeling the teen's breath hitch as his fingers grazed over the fabric that was stretched too toughly over his ass. He leaned down carefully and Peter met him half way, lips pressing together rather softly. Peter arched his neck, hand coming to rest against the reactor under Tony's shirt, bettering the angle for when Tony's tongue swiped over his bottom lip playfully. Peter let out a whine before letting Tony in, meeting his tongue as it explored his mouth, his spine going numb as Tony's tongue flicked the inside of his front teeth. Tony let his hands flex tighter around Peter, fuck he needed this so bad it hurt. Tony came up for air, wondering when it was a teenager could make him loose his breath in a suddenly very public place. Peter looked up at him through eyelashes and if he said 'daddy' one more time he was going to loose it. He could feel his cock strain against the denim of his pants at the thought.
"Lets- lets find you a better si-size, yeah?" he said, loosening his grip on Peter, trying to restrain himself because, fuck, this teenager was glancing hotly up at him through blown out pupils, black with desire, lips red and wet and- okay fuck this has got to stop now.
Peter gave him a look (a look Tony swore he had to have practicing in a mirror because no woman or man should be able to bring a Stark to his knees, let alone a teenager) and he let out a small sound in the back of his throat that was obviously a whine but was bordering on a full out moan from being told what to do and- Tony wasn't sure if he was royally pissed or eternally grateful for the employee who came back into the dressing room, another suit in the same cut and color but larger size in his arms. Peter shuffled back behind the curtain of the dressing room to switch suits while Tony flicked through his phone harshly, trying to distract himself. Finally, Peter came back out, a well fitting suit gracing his form, and gave Tony a large grin.
"This- that looks- its- … you look good," Tony stumbled, feeling like a fucking stupid teenager all over again. Peter beamed at the compliment, the harsh red and gold accents making his skin glow, the tightness around his thighs and crotch just perfect, the way he bunched the rather expensive material of his sleeves around slender but powerful forearms.
"Yeah?" Peter asked, looking down at his shoes.
"I look okay, daddy?" he asked, looking up at Tony so sincerely that something in him broke and, with a gasp from the teen, Tony was pushing him back into the dressing room, tongue down his throat, hands hard and tight all over the teen until Peter was a gasping mess under him. And Tony wanted him that way, Wanted him so completely undone, torn apart in the most graceful and caring way possible. All his. 'All mine' Tony thought heatedly as he moved to Peter's jaw, letting his lips, tongue, and teeth press into the soft flesh. Peter let out a wanton gasp, his hips bucking into Tony's intruding thigh as his fingernails raked across Tony's scalp.
"Daddy, please," he gasped, tearing Tony's shirt over his head and Tony let them separate for a second, the blue glow from his chest lighting up Peter's face. He was back quickly, mouth covering the teens before his strong hands came down on Peter's button down, opening his expensive jacket, vest, and shirt to reveal soft flesh to his calloused hands. Peter practically mewled into Tony's shoulder, his smaller hips bucking at a desperate need for contact. Every noise, every movement, every sighed sound of his name, of the word 'daddy', sent spikes of arousal to Tony's crotch and, suddenly, like it was out of his control, the older man was dropping to his knees, undoing Peter's pants with skilled hands. Peter let out a sound of pure shock when Tony set his cock free, mouth breathing over the red, flushed skin.
"Daddy, what- what are you doing?" He gasped, fingers curling into Tony's hair as he licked up the shaft of Peter's cock until he reach the head, giving a quick, wet suck the slit.
"You've been good for daddy today. I'm rewarding you" Tony said breathlessly before Peter's cock was fully in his mouth, his head bobbing lower and lower until the head touched the back of his throat and he skillfully turned off his gag reflex, allowing himself to humm and swallow around Peter's flesh. The teen pressed a fist to his mouth, trying his hardest to hold back a cry, hips bucking into Tony's mouth and he let him, enjoying the feel of Peter using him for pleasure. He continued to suck, dragging Peter's pants down further, his hand guiding one of Peter's thighs until it was draped over Tony's shoulder. He suddenly removed himself from Peters cock and the teen let out a cry of disapproval before letting out another gasp as Tony cupped his balls, his tongue moving down and behind his sack and- fuck was Tony Stark eating him out? Peter let out a muffled cry of desperation as the wetness of Tony's tongue pressed inside him and- ooh fuck what was happening? The feeling was familiar. His own fingers pressing into himself in the comfort of his own bed came to him, picturing the time Tony had fucked him into his work bench vivid in his mind. He knew what slicked fingers felt like, knew what a surprisingly large cock felt like grazing his prostate, but this- this- was different. Tony's tongue stiffened as it breached the tight ring of muscle before flattening out, stretching him slightly, licking his insides and fucking God he might loose it there. It was the sensation, the slick tongue, the pressure, the breath fanning over his balls, the over all intimacy of the act, the fact that Tony-fucking-Stark had his mouth buried deep between his legs that almost sent Peter over the edge, a rippling shiver running up his spine, causing him to accidentally moan freely. Tony puled away, practically panting as he licked his own fingers, pausing as his index finger circled the teen's entrance, a look on his face that Peter was unfamiliar with.
"Peter- are you- can I-… are you okay with this?" and Peter felt his heart swell to the point he was almost choking on it. He nodded loosely, suddenly coming to terms with the sheer intimacy being shared in the cramped changing room, only a flimsy curtain separating them from the world, not even long enough to hide Tony's knees as he kneeled before Peter. Anyone who passed by would know what was happening if the sighs and moans didn't give it away and – holy fuck- neither of them cared. It was just them, and Tony was asking for fucking permission and Peter's brain tugged at his heart as the word 'daddy' drifted through his mind. It wasn't just a kinky word Peter liked to tease Tony with. It had nothing to do with their age gap or Tony's obvious dominance towards Peter's overwhelming submissiveness. It wasn't just something used to get them both hot and heavy. The word had weight to it, all of a sudden. Like with the simple, taboo word was Peter giving his whole self to Tony. Like he was letting go into trust-worthy hands and he was young (he knew that) but he felt somewhere in his heart like this strong of a bond wasn't something you just fucked around with. No. The word 'daddy' wasn't some Fetlife gimmick, it was everything to Peter all at once and he practically chocked on the word from the sincerity of it.
"Yes. Yes daddy," He gasped out and a strange part of him, a place he had only become aware of recently, knew exactly then what the word meant when Tony paused suddenly, looking up at him with dark, lust blown, meaningful eyes. It was a weird way of saying 'I love you'. Peter thought, suddenly, and he could see it in Tony's eyes too. Before Peter's mind could wrap fully around the idea of being in love with Tony Stark, Tony's mouth covered his cock again as his finger pressed into him. Peter arched into his touch, the need to be filled suddenly overwhelming, Tony thrusted his finger into him, fully now, adding a second once after glancing up at the teen's face for reassurance.
Fuck, he was beautiful like this. Peter's body quivered against every touch Tony made and, seriously, the billionaire could live like this forever. He carefully curled his fingers inside Peter, looking for the rough patch of nerves. After a few tries Peter was screaming silently, his mouth gaping open as Tony worked him. Tony groaned around Peter's cock at the sight, adding a third finger and repeating the action until Tony was fucking Peter ruthlessly with his fingers, mouth sucking at the head of his cock, cheeks hollowed out sinfully and he knew Peter was going to loose it as his nimble fingers carded through his messy hair, pulling the roots harshly with every gasp. Tony could feel his own gut tingle at the sight and soon, with a hardly discrete yelp of pleasure, Peter was comming down Tony's willing throat. He hummed against the flesh in his mouth, swallowing the bitterness before milking the teen for all he was worth, relishing in the gasps of aftershock Tony was able to pull from the teen with his fingers still deep inside him. He finally pulled his mouth off the softening cock, jaw aching and shoulders sore. He groaned slightly, adjusting himself against the wet fabric of his boxers and- fuck did he seriously get off from blowing the teen? Peter let his leg relax before sinking, bare assed, to the floor so he was level with Tony. He sighed contently, reaching out for Tony softly before seeing Tony groan and he let out a sharp gasp.
Oh, Oh, daddy, let me- I can-" and Tony stopped him with a wet hand to his mouth and Peter practically shivered at the scent of himself. Well fuck.
"I'm fine, hun," he said, a knowing look on Peter's face before the teen's mouth was stretched into a wide, knowing smile. Tony sighed, reaching out for the small frame before cursing when the teen giggled against him.
"That good for you?" Peter chuckled and Tony cursed to himself and Peter, mumbling something about forgetting about it. Peter soon relaxed against Tony's shoulders, finding warmth and comfort in the crook of his neck.
"Thanks for spending the day with me, daddy," and Tony stiffened around him, fully understanding the weight of the word leaving Peter's lips and he breathed in deep before responding:
"Anything for you, kid,". Tony could swear he felt a piece of himself he had abandoned years back wake up again at the obvious love behind the words and, he didn't know if the actual words could ever pass his lips again but he knew Peter knew and, really, that was just so much.
They bought the suit soon after and, later that week, Tony took Peter to the press-party-gala, one hand wrapped around the smaller man's hips because suddenly Iron Man and Spiderman were team mates. And, just as suddenly, Tony Stark and Peter Parker were inseparable, the word 'daddy' falling from Peter's lips quietly, secretively, as Tony took him as a dancing partner for all the press to see, all the fucking world to see, because who the fuck cared anymore? Peter's embarrassed, smile as he stepped on Tony's feet, obviously not used to be lead around, was all Tony needed, a silent 'I love you' hanging in the air, ready for whenever one of them was brave enough to grab at it.