Tony canāt catch his breath, his head bowed, forehead pressed to Peterās back, the clear imprints of his hands a deep and blotchy crimson over his boyās ass; theyāll surely leave beautiful bruises, dark against the pale skin, visible evidence of his boyās utter trust in him.
āBaby,ā he pants softly, reverently, as he pushes himself upright, withdrawing carefully from his boyās used body, a thick trail of semen slipping out after, and Tony finds himself wishing he can get hard again, fuck back into the reddened hole, sloppy and wet and perfect because itās Peter. Another time, perhaps, when Tony isnāt exhausted and Peter can handle it; Tonyās put him through his paces tonight. Thereās a quiet whimper, a discomforted noise, as Tony shifts to the side, swiping a gentle hand down the sweat-slick back. āYou were so good, sweetheart.ā He pets back the damp strands of hair from Peterās forehead, caresses a cheek wet with tears. Peterās brow smooths, the small frown disappearing at the gentle praise. āYou took everything Daddy gave you and more. Iām so proud of you.ā
Whiskey-colored eyes open, the flecks of lighter brown sprinkled in looking like drops of honey in the soft glow of the sunset through their balcony windows; Tony thinks he can look into those eyes for hours and still not get enough of them, of the trust and honesty and love filling them as they stare back at Tony. (Tony had been so certain, so sure, that all of that love and trust would disappear when he showed Peter his most carnal desires, when he wanted to hurt Peter, but⦠but they hadnāt, had - in fact - only intensified, and Tony- Tony never feels more at a loss than when he sees that, when Peter finds every way to show him.)
āI did good?ā Peterās voice is rough, scratchy with use - screams, moans, pleas - and Tonyās heart hurts with the sheer amount of affection he feels for this beautiful boy, this precious creature who had spiraled his way into Tonyās heart the first day theyād met, Peterās eyes wide and gorgeous as heād repeatedly apologized for running into him, for the iced coffee on his suit.
āYou did so well, sweetheart.ā For all that Peter is more confident, has grown more comfortable in his own skin and his place in Tonyās life, heās always vulnerable after a scene like tonightās, his unfocused gaze showing heās still a little lost, relying on Tony to reassure him, to make decisions for him and take care of him; itās the most important job Tony has ever taken on, and heās doing his best not to fail. (Luckily, his success rate at most things is phenomenal.) āDaddyās lucky to have such a perfect boy.ā He reaches back, blindly feeling around for the cooling gel and bottle of water heād placed on the nightstand earlier. Peter whimpers, buries his face in the sheet as Tony lightly spreads the gel, massages the burning hot skin, then sighs, soft and dreamy, as it begins to soothe. āDrink, baby.ā He urges Peter to lift his head slowly tipping the water through the younger manās parted lips until half the bottle is gone.
Peter makes a soft noise, his arm dragging slowly upward, fingers curling in as he reaches for Tony, who immediately moves closer, moves Peterās pliant body to rest against his side, half-on Tonyās chest and half-off, doing his best to keep the overly-sensitized skin of Peterās ass from touching anything. Peter mumbles out a hoarse, āDaddy,ā and Tony presses a kiss to the crown of Peterās head.
āYeah, baby?ā
āLove you a lot.ā The words are barely there, Peter already half-asleep, but they shine like a beacon of light in the darkness for Tony, a promise of safety and home.
Fingers threading through damp curls, Tony offers another kiss, this time to Peterās forehead, and says, soft and low, wary of breaking the silence with anything louder than the quiet half-snores from his boy, āI love you, too.ā
















