#ahwb

Quentin slammed the front door behind him.

“You know what? You just tell me what you want me to do and that’s what I’ll do. Huh? Since everything I do is the wrong thing!”

Peter turned on his heel, shoving Quentin away from him.

“First I suggest you pack your toothbrush. Then I want you to get your socks, your underwear, your shaving kit, the milk out the freezer if you think you need it and get your ass out of my house!”

“And go Where Peter?!”

“To hell!” 

Peter’s chest heaved, eyes watering as he held back tears.

“But until then, I suggest a Holiday Inn.”  Quentin chuckled. 

“You’re gonna regret this.”

“Yeah? I hope I do! I hope I regret loving you, I hope I regret meeting you.” Peter wiped tears from his eyes before they had a chance to fall. He was done shedding tears for him.

“I hope I look back on this moment and regret not killing you in London when I had the chance.” Peter sniffed, jaw setting. 

“Now get the fuck out of my house before I drag you out.” 

--

Tony: What? Gone? I'm not going anywhere!

Someone: N--No. I did--

Me: YOU DID? OKAY!

_

Peter lowered his head willing away his tears the beat he could. His cheek still burned from his strike and he feared getting another one.

"You're wrong." Quentin chuckled, cupping Peter's bruised cheek in his calloused hand.

"Do you really think he could love you after all you've done to him?" Peter sobbed, gripping the fabric of his jeans, tears streaming down his cheeks and stinging his wounded skin.

"No! I know I made mistakes! But I was child! I--I was hurt and--"

"That doesn't excuse what you've done! Look at him!" Peter followed Quentin's arm all the way to the window, looking in on the room Tony thought was his own. Mourning Peter's death, even though it was so long ago.

"Do you really think he could ever forgive you!"

Peter looked Quentin in his eyes, the salt of his tears staining his pale cheeks red.

"I don't want him to forgive me!" It felt refreshing to say that. 5 years of longing, yearning, and he'd finally come to terms with it.

"I don't even want him to love me! I just...I just want him to know I'm alive!"

Quentin smiled, getting down on one knee.

"Well, if that's what you wanted, you should've told me ages ago!" Quentin stood and by the time Peter knew what he was about to do, it was too late.

The glass fell to the ground in large splintering chunks, Tony looked between a mix of scared shitless and relieved.

"Peter?"

"D--Dad?"

"Is this a trick? Is--" his voice cracked as he stood over and walked to his son. "--Is this a game?" Peter shook his head, putting his hands on Tony's as they cupped his cheeks.

"It's been 84 years!" Tony joked, tears streaming down his cheeks. Peter laughed wetly, face scrunching up in confusion.

All I wanna work on is Neighbours Meet Sexy and a good sleeping schedule 😅

Atención: he reubicado mamadas