ScholarlyStarker

Peter Parker in denial

Tony sits down next to him and lovingly rubs his back and asks “anything I can help you with”

And Peter murmurs in a tired voice into the pillow “wanna squeeze your pecs”

They’re both stunned for a moment but then Tony has his shirt of and Peter’s hand placed on his pec in literal seconds and after that it just becomes a thing.

What kind of story is it?

-Are the two men hooking up immediately in a closet or bathroom unable to wait any longer, leaving Morgan cluelessly doing her homework several rooms over?

-Did Peter do something to Morgan's real tutor to ensure he and Tony cross paths again?

-Does Tony pretend to not remember Peter in front of Morgan, but then later that night follows the boy home?

It had been a couple weeks now so the bite marks would have faded but Tony could nearly recall exactly where they’d been that night. Under the dim and shifting lights, purple and blue like a fresh bruise, he’d admired his own handiwork before catching that red, red mouth in another searing kiss.

The younger man looked up and his brown eyes went wide as dinner plates. Their gazes locked for a breathless beat, Tony’s pulse buzzing in his ears. The boy’s lips parted and Tony could remember the taste, sweet and ripe. All for him.

“Daddy!” Morgan’s happy greeting broke the trance and both men looked away.

“Hey Maguna. Whatcha workin’ on there?” He stepped further into the room, noting a worn and faded backpack he didn’t recognize leaning against one table leg.

Morgan pulled a face. “Math. Duh. That’s why Peter’s here.”

The younger man watched him almost warily, cheeks tinged pink. The knuckles of the hand holding his pencil were slowly turning white. “Mr. Stark,” he croaked out, throat working silently.

“The new tutor, right? Pep didn’t mention you made house calls.” Tony raised a single brow. “And on a weekend, even. I hope we’re paying you time and a half.”

“Mrs. Stark—“

“Oh, she’s gone back to Ms. Potts now. Surprised she didn’t mention that either.” Tony crossed his arms over his chest. “How’d you get clearance to be in my penthouse, Peter?”

“Dad, oh my God. Don’t be weird. Peter’s totally nice. I emailed him that this homework was kicking my ass—“

“Butt. Please. Let’s try to pretend we have some decorum in this house,” Tony corrected his daughter with an indulgent smile.

Morgan made a mildly rude noise but smiled back. She was barely even a ‘tween’ yet but every day she looked more like her mother. And acted more like her father. God help them both.

“It’s due on Monday and I really didn’t wanna miss Jenny’s pool party but Mom said I couldn’t go if it wasn’t finished. And she said she’d kick your… butt if you let it slide again like last time. So to save all our butts, I asked if Peter could help.” Morgan finished matter of factly, looking quite proud of herself. “Uncle Happy already said he was ok so you can’t even be mad about that.”

Tony had crossed to where she was seated as she spoke and dropped a kiss onto the top of her head. “Not mad, Princess. Just. Surprised. Taken aback. As it were.”

Morgan gave him a half skeptical look but took this in stride. “Anyway, we’re almost finished so you can order dinner if you want. I want pizza.”

“Oh, can I?” Tony finally looked at Peter again. “Isn’t she magnanimous?”

The color in Peter’s face seemed to have re-regulated a little when he was not the center of attention but it flared warm once more, staining across his high cheekbones as he managed a weak chuckle in response.

Tony knew how it felt to run his thumbs over those sculpted cheeks, feel the heat of them. He had mapped the contour of that barely stubbled jaw with his mouth, felt Peter’s pulse rabbiting under his tongue.

“M-Morgan’s great. Uh. She’s a great kid. Really smart. Just needed a few key pointers.” Peter’s smile was shaky but genuine, even as he was clearly struggling to look directly at Tony. Gaze darting away immediately when it got too close to making contact.

Morgan preened under the praise (again, far too like her father) and started organizing the worksheets and graphing paper. It was pretty advanced stuff for her age and grade but that was why Tony paid a fortune for her excellent schooling. And for private tutoring from a local student at Columbia.

A student who apparently also frequented at least one of the night clubs that Tony occasionally hit up in a desperate attempt to numb the boredom on weekends when he wasn’t parenting.

They hadn’t left the club together and Tony had been regretting it ever since. He’d gone back to the bar to grab them a couple more drinks, both of them overheated from grinding in a secluded corner of the otherwise packed space. Unfortunately, he’d been recognized and after pulling evasive maneuvers, lost track of the beautiful boy.

Of all the gin joints, Tony thought wryly.

“Well. I can get going since it’s really just that last bit of showing your work,” Peter told Morgan, starting to rise from his seat.

“Or you could stay for pizza,” Morgan said. “Dad always gets garlic knots and cheesy bread and then complains about ordering too much food.”

Tony made a sound of mock outrage. “Oh and who was it that threw a fit last time I didn’t get the cheesy bread? Hm?”

Morgan fixed him with a square look, her tone unwaveringly serious. “Yeah. That’s because cheesy bread is delicious.”

Peter presses his lips tightly together but Tony caught the grin he was trying to swallow. “Thanks but I couldn’t—“

“Why not?” Tony countered, rounding on the slightly shorter man, now they were both standing. “I mean, you heard the lady. I order way too much food. And cheesy bread is delicious.”

Peter finally met his eyes again, expression searching. “It wouldn’t be, um,” his gaze flicked to Morgan then back, “intruding?”

Tony cocked his head to one side, giving Peter a slow, half-lidded once over. “Well, I heard my head of security already cleared you. Morgan and Pep both speak highly of you as a tutor. Maybe it’s Daddy’s turn to… get to know you better.” He laid a careful hand on Peter’s shoulder, letting his thumb dip just inside the collar of the boy’s T-shirt. “If you’d like that.”

They were close enough and the room was well lit so there was no hiding the way Peter’s pupils dilated. His Adam’s apple bobbed then he nodded his head vigorously. “Yeah.” The word came out a cracked whisper but he cleared his throat and tried again. “Yes. Sir. Mr. Stark. I’d like that a lot.”

Morgan hummed a pop hit off-key under her breath as her pencil scratched against the paper, helpfully oblivious.

Tony gave Peter as wicked a grin as he dare risk with his kid still so close. “Great. If it gets too late, you can always crash in one of the spare rooms here.”

Peter licked his lips, blatantly watching Tony’s mouth, and heaved a ragged exhale. “Wow. Thanks. That, uh, might be a good idea. I live kinda far.”