I chose to use Arctic Monkeys song titles for exactly two scenes I had fleshed out prior to writing:
"I Bet That You Look Good on the Dance Floor" and-
"Knee Socks."
Y'all.
If you haven't heard "Knee Socks"...stop everything you're doing and listen to it. (Arctic Monkeys have all of their albums up on YouTube for free.) I didn't have a foot fetish before I listened to that song, but writing Peter in just a pair of knee socks...I might be persuaded.
The smell of coffee reached Tony's nose. When he sat up in bed, he saw Peter approach the bedside table with a carafe of coffee and two mugs. Two bowls of cereal and a bunch of overripe bananas were already on the table, and Tony's stomach rumbled loudly. When he got in his workshop binges, he frequently forgot to eat. How long had it been since…?
His thoughts trailed off as he noticed Peter.
"Holy shit."
They had showered the night before but both were too exhausted to go a second round, having only slept a handful of hours in who knew how many days. Tony hadn't even bothered pulling on underwear before collapsing into bed, and Peter technically hadn't either…
Yet somewhere, somehow Peter had found a pair of navy and white striped knee socks.
And that was all he wore.
Tony felt his cock swell appreciatively at the sight, and Peter grinned lasciviously in the knowledge of how he was affecting Tony. "'Holy shit,' what?" he teased.
"Holy shit, you're way too good for me. Now, come here."
Peter crawled across the mattress on his knees, his pink cock half hard between his thighs, until he was sitting in Tony's lap. He leaned in close but not quite close enough to Tony, staying just out of reach like a piece of forbidden fruit. "Be specific," he murmured, nosing Tony's beard. "What is it you like best about me?"
Tony tried to catch Peter's lips in his, but he leaned back at the last second. "Unh, you're going to be the death of me." His cock had fully hardened, jutting straight out from his body, the tip occasionally brushing across Peter's abdomen. He eyed Peter's shit-eating grin and sighed dramatically. "If I answer your question, can I touch you?"
Putting his finger against his lip, Peter pretended to think hard about it. He rocked forward, letting his cock slide against Tony's, and drawled, "I suppose that's fair."
"I like how fucking sexy you are." He let one hand rest against Peter's side, and Peter melted into his touch. "I like how brilliant you are." He leaned forward and kissed his collarbone. "I love how you bat your eyelashes, and I'll do anything you want." His other hand reached up to curl through Peter's hair. "And if I'm being completely honest, the thing I like absolutely the most right now"—he paused to slot his lips against Peter's—"is how you're currently sitting in my lap wearing nothing but a pair of knee socks."
He surged forward, and Peter tumbled backwards with a surprised squeak, which turned to giggles once Tony crouched above him predatorily. Peter pulled his legs up so his socked feet were resting on Tony's hips. A ray of sunshine snuck through the curtains to lay across Peter's face, highlighting his cheeks and smile.
"You're not going to ask me to return the favor? What I like best about you?"
Tony's stomach soured as self-deprecating thoughts raced each other to the forefront of his brain. "I don't—"
"You, Mr. Tony Stark, are the absolute best thing that's ever happened to me." He curled a finger in Tony's hair and tugged gently. The sun shifted, and for a brief moment, it seemed as if the light were coming from within Peter himself. "And when you tell me you'll do anything for me, I believe you."
Peter blushed at his own words and tried to hide behind his forearm, but Tony pulled it away and pressed a lingering kiss to his lips. A million romantic things flashed through his mind in response, but what came out of his mouth was, "I want you."
Peter's eyes connected with his, and for a moment Tony was afraid he would see too much, would know too much. But whatever Peter saw, he was fine with. His eyes slid closed, and he arched up so skin met skin, the silk sheets rustling beneath him. "You can have me," he murmured into Tony's ear before running the edges of his teeth against the shell of skin.
Tony reached between them and took them both in hand, velvety skin sticking and sliding. Peter rocked his hips, sending jolts of arousal through them both. Tony's hand slipped lower and was surprised to find Peter's entrance very…wet.
"You were asleep for a very long time," Peter explained. "I figured I'd be ready for when you woke up."
The thought of Peter getting ready, putting on the knee socks and fingering himself open just for Tony, had him seeing stars.
"You… Have I mentioned how much I—how fucking desirable you are?"
Peter lifted his leg even higher, his toes tickling Tony's shoulder. "Mmm… You might have mentioned it." With his sole, he pushed gently on Tony's chest, eyes heavily lidded as they traveled across Tony's body.
Tony let Peter push him, and he sat back on the balls of his feet to admire the man beneath him, his eyes darkening at the sight of the deep purple bruises on his neck. His hand ran the length of the sock, the feel of the fabric keeping him grounded. Kisses ran along his calf, stopping to mouth at the hem behind his knee. "Where did you even find these?"
A smirk crossed Peter's lips. "JARVIS and I have been getting to know each other while you've been sleeping. I had them ordered to the house."
"Thank you, JARVIS." He knew the AI wouldn't respond while he was in bed with someone and made a mental note to thank him later.
Peter hooked his ankles over Tony's shoulders and held out his arms, beckoning him closer. When Tony leaned in to kiss Peter, the head of his cock brushed against his hole, which twitched against him hungrily, expectantly. Obligingly, Tony pressed inside, groaning at how easily he slid into that incredible warmth. "Fuck me," he hissed.
"Maybe next time," Peter teased.
Tony smirked. "If you have breath to make jokes, then I'm not doing my job right."
He pulled out, then slowly pushed back in, able to go what seemed impossibly far, practically pushing Peter in half. Peter keened at the feeling of being so full, Tony's cock opening him up in all the right ways. His toes curled as Tony pulled back out, his hips coming up off the mattress to chase the feeling.
The scent of sage and sandalwood reached Tony's nose. "Are you—wearing my cologne?"
Peter blushed furiously. "Please don't be mad."
Tony's cock throbbed almost painfully, and he stopped moving so he could inhale Peter's scent. "Why would I be mad? Oh, baby boy, I knew you had a scent kink when you wore my shirt, but I didn't think I would get so fucking turned on by it."
Peter surged forward to kiss Tony, smacking their foreheads together in the process. Tony laughed at how eager he was before returning his kiss, his tongue snaking deep into his mouth. He readjusted Peter's legs before thrusting into him insatiably, reveling in the sound of their flesh connecting with a smack, smack, smack.
"Tonyyy," Peter moaned.
His leg slipped from Tony's shoulder, so he planted his foot against the mattress and used the leverage to meet Tony's thrusts. He was better able to adjust the angle and was soon writhing in ecstasy.
The sheets were slippery, and Tony had to pause to readjust their position several times before giving up. He pulled back, causing Peter to blink in confusion.
"Over by the wall," Tony demanded.
Practically purring, Peter did as he asked. "Yes, daddy."
Tony was stronger than he looked, though it helped that Peter was light and lithe. Hooking Peter's legs against his waist, he pressed him against the wall before sheathing himself back inside. The fabric of the knee socks scratched against his back as Peter strove to find purchase, but Tony barely noticed, overwhelmed by the deity that was Peter Parker.
Peter shivered in delight that Tony was able to take him against the wall. He held on tightly to Tony's shoulders, bouncing with the rhythm, his ankles crossed behind Tony's back.
"Feel good?"
Peter found he was unable to answer coherently, instead crying out every time Tony's cock pounded his insides.
"I'm going to take such good care of you, baby boy. You just keep being your beautiful fucking self… You make daddy so happy. Fucking showing up in my room with breakfast and wearing my cologne… I'm supposed to take care of you."
"D—Daddy!"
"You ride my cock so fucking well. Where have you been all my life? You're fucking perfection."
"Oh!"
"So fucking tight. And it's all for daddy. I can't believe how wet you got this hole for daddy. So good, baby boy. Best day of my fucking life. You did all that for your daddy. Gonna reward you. Gonna fuck you so good. Gonna—"
"Tony!"
Peter's legs were beginning to feel sore from clutching onto Tony so tightly, but he didn't care. His back thumped rhythmically against the wall as Tony pounded into him, each thrust accompanied by a wail of delight from Peter.
"Damn it," Tony hissed. "Baby, I've gotta put you down. My arms are getting tired."
Peter climbed off Tony but didn't move away from the wall. Instead, he turned to face the wall, resting on his forearms and thrusting his hips out. "Hurry, daddy! It feels so good…"
Tony lined back up behind Peter and held his hips as he pressed inside. With the new angle, Peter was practically screaming with pleasure, and Tony felt himself fast approaching orgasm as he listened to Peter.
"Touch yourself, baby boy."
Without further prompting, Peter wrapped his hand around his cock and pumped with wanton abandon. "I'm so close," he moaned as Tony continued to slam into him.
It wasn't long before Tony was emptying himself inside Peter with a strangled cry. As he came down, he rested his head between Peter's shoulder blades, listening to him frantically jerk himself off. With Tony's name on his lips, he came, cum hitting the wall before dribbling over his fist and onto his socks.
Tony grinned. "Oh, baby boy, you have two shirts with a little bit of me on them. Those socks are mine."
The cereal was soggy and the coffee was cold by the time Peter and Tony cleaned up and settled back into bed for breakfast, but the bananas were fine. They giggled as they tried to eat them in a way that didn't bring oral sex to mind, Peter with literal tears in his eyes when Tony kissed the tip.
"I owe you an apology," blurted Tony. They had eaten as much as they were going to, and Peter had his head resting in his lap.
"It's fine. I knew you were joking when you said my banana was a chode—"
Stifling another round of giggles, Tony nudged Peter playfully. "For fuck's sake, I'm trying to be serious here. No, I'm apologizing because I haven't done the best by you."
Purring, Peter countered, "If giving me the best dicking of my life isn't doing right by me, I can't wait to see what's next."
Another playful swat. "No, really—the best dicking, huh? Wait, stop distracting me. I want to talk about your exes."
"Oh."
"What? Oh, no, not like that. I mean in general. You've said and done a few things that make me think that you think you're supposed to do certain things or act a specific way just to please me."
Peter's eyebrows bunched in confusion. "But I do want to please you."
Running his fingers through Peter's hair, Tony smiled. "And you please me in so many ways, baby boy, but it's just as important to me that you feel safe, happy, and comfortable. I don't want you to think I have some kind of expectation for you that you need to meet." At Peter's blank stare, he elaborated, "In my office, I asked you about feet. I like feet. I mean, I like every part of you, but something about a nicely manicured foot—see? You're making a face! I knew you didn't like feet."
Peter hesitated before finally admitting, "I don't like feet."
He was met with several moments of silence before Tony gestured to the room at large. "So? Did the world end? It's okay if I like something that you don't. I'm not going to force you to suck my toes—okay, you don't think that face is a little excessive?—but I also want you to feel comfortable verbalizing to me that you don't like something."
"That's… I'll try."
"Because what it sounds like is that you've had past relationships that have conditioned you not to speak out."
Peter winced.
"Did I hit the mark?"
"I just don't want you to get mad."
Tony scooped Peter into his arms and kissed him. "I won't get mad. It's your body. If something doesn't feel right, you should say something. Next—"
"There's more?"
"Yes. I want to talk about how you seem to only have experience with receiving. It ties into verbalizing your desires. You want me to suck you off? Baby, I will get down on my knees and take you down my throat. Want to fuck me? Shit, there's nothing I'd like better. But I get the feeling that you've had previous experiences that make you feel like sex should only go a certain way, that you're the one who should be 'used.' Did I hit the mark?"
Peter sat up and leaned back against the headboard, folding his arms grumpily. Feeling defensive, he huffed, "So? I like getting fucked."
Tony gently unfolded Peter's arms. "Sorry, that's not what I meant. I meant that you have a choice. I'm not going to pigeonhole you into one category or another. If you want to fuck me, it's on the table. If you never want to fuck me again, that's fine, too."
Grumbling, Peter pretended to adjust his socks, which had fallen to mid calf at some point. When he finally met Tony's determined look, he gave in, recognizing that Tony wasn't going to let this go. "Fine. We'll talk about it. I've had three long-term relationships, though we won't get into the hookups. It's like you said. They took; I gave. The sex was nothing like it's been with you, so you're probably right.
"The worst was Justin, my most recent ex. He was very demanding. I never said 'no,' but he still found ways to be pushy. He was never violent, but I was just…uncomfortable. I'd had hookups that had behaved in similar ways, so I thought it was normal.
"But then you blew into my life, and you're nothing like—it's so much better with you. And even though I've pushed at some of my limits with you, it's been…I've never felt so desired or—in control, even."
Tony frowned, his beard accentuating his grimace. "Limits? Like what? I don't ever want you to feel uncomfortable with me."
Blushing, Peter admitted, "Well, like the 'daddy' thing." At Tony's blanch, Peter hurriedly added, "No, I mean, at first I wasn't into it. And I've never once had the urge to call someone 'daddy' before. But with you…" He leaned forward and placed his hands on Tony's chest, his eyes darkening. "With you…" He kissed Tony on the cheek, his lips lingering as his hands explored his body. "It's fitting, and it's"—he hummed—"such a turn on."
Tony held Peter by the wrists and said solemnly, "If you ever change your mind about anything, all you have to do is let me know."
Lifting his hands to his lips, Peter placed kisses on Tony's knuckles. "I will. I trust you. And…" He blushed. "I've never been with someone I've trusted enough to let myself reveal my kinks. Like"—he lifted his wrist to his nose and inhaled sage and sandalwood—"my scent kink. I've never been with anyone before where I felt comfortable enough to explore something like this. Or"—he wiggled into Tony's lap, his arms hooking over his neck—"the shirts."
Tony moaned, recalling the stains he'd left on his clothes and the thought of Peter wearing them after. "I have to confess I've never done that with anyone else, either." He paused thoughtfully before saying, "Thank you. For having this conversation with me. I feel a little hypocritical because I've never been in a relationship long enough to have the 'you need to be open and honest with me' conversation."
Peter moved from Tony's lap and back to his previous spot on the mattress, recognizing the conversation they were about to have. "Are you saying—?"
The bedroom door flew open.
Startled, Peter threw the sheets over his head on reflex.
"Pepper?" Tony yelped.
"Where the fuck have you been?" she shrieked. "Peter, get out from under the covers; I already know you're here. Anthony Edward Stark, you have been missing for five days! Did you think to call?"
Peter threw the blankets off his head, forgetting he was naked. "Five days?" he shrieked. "I've got to call Aunt May! She must be worried sick! And MJ! Tony, where's my phone?"
"Mr. Parker's phone is in the workshop," came JARVIS' voice.
"You might want to worry about your boss, too," Pepper snarked.
Peter tore the sheet from the bed and wrapped it around his waist as he searched for something to wear. "Five days? Tony, why didn't you say something?"
Now completely uncovered since Peter had the sheet, Tony shrugged nonchalantly, completely confident in his nudity. Pepper was conflicted between shooting death lasers at her boss and averting her eyes. "When I get into my workshop binges, I completely lose track of time. Pepper, darling, you'll be delighted to hear that we've solved the world's energy crisis."
Pepper chucked a decorative pillow at Tony's head. "I don't care what you've been up to. The point is that you and Peter left work without telling anyone to have this romantic getaway—"
"No, really, we've been working."
Pepper eyed the cum-stained knee socks Peter was currently removing and the suspicious white marks on the wall. "Fairly certain HR won't see it that way. Someone's complained."