#soft!starker

Fairy Lights, Pillow Forts, Naked Sundays, and Soft Kisses —

[beware, soft tony below]

‪Tony had never had pillow forts growing up, never had fairy lights strung up, never had soft kisses from anyone but his mother, and those were few and scarce, thanks to Howard’s A+ Parenting. So when Peter suggested that they started building pillow forts and hiding in them one rainy day, Tony thought it was a bit odd. But Peter built him another, and another, and another. Now, there was a room dedicated to Peter’s pillow forts, strung up with his webbing, fairy lights, filled with the softest blankets, the best books, and Peter. They were always filled with Peter.

Something was different when Tony crawled into the fort after a particularly difficult lab session. It wasn’t that Peter was sprawled naked reading a book. It wasn’t that he noticed his boy’s shoulders were broader, his hands larger, his smile wiser.

Peter smiles and pulls Tony down, his knees giving out to the soft cushions underneath. Tony lands with a soft ‘unf’ and Peter doesn’t hesitate to spread him open, clothes tossed to one corner, forgotten. His lover sprinkles soft kisses over his skin, leaving blossoms of heat behind. His ear. His eyes, the nape of his neck.

There was something fragile hanging in the heavy air. ‬

Tony breaths quietly though his nose, scared that a whispered breath would break the spell. They keep up the act, Peter worshiping the older man, and Tony relaxing into an almost hypnotic state, body soft and pliant. He tries not to, but Tony caves first, he huffs, his lips twitch and he closes his eyes, a soft smile on his face. Buried in the warmth of the blankets and beneath Peter’s body, he knew, in that moment, that he was loved. This old broken soul in an older broken body, was loved.

"Tony, Tony? Are you up? It's 7:30am already, you have a meeting with Miss Potts in forty minutes. Tony?"

Soft hands curl into already silver hair, scratching at the strands in an attempt to wake him up gently. Butterfly kisses on a cold nape, a ridiculously hot nose nuzzling everywhere. Peter knows scenting the billionaire is basically the only way one can ensure a calm morning.

Not today. And not for the next few months either.

He loves his husband, appreciates the nearly romantic demeanor, he does. But "unless you have a cup of coffee for me, there is no way in hell i am gonna leave this bed. your child has kept me up with nausea the entire night. I wanna hurl my guts out more than that time Rhodes found Dad's liquor cabinet. please, tell me you have coffee."

"..." Tony is severely displeased by the fact he can read Peter like a book even with half his mind shut off because fine, he's right and dammit all.

"I want that weird drink you make. The one with milk, cinnamon and chunks of brownie. And French toast with waffles. No jam, not too much butter, as much sugar as possible. Now, go before I scream at you for having the only dick that could get a hormone fucked forty something omega pregnant. "

The kid scrambles from bed, practically face plants with all the covers tangling long legs and yup, this is the person that the universe designated as his soulmate. Because Tony Stark can never have a partner with a reasonable, normal amount of enthusiasm, stamina and a sense of balance.

That sounds like he's ungrateful, he's not. But it turns out being three months pregnant gives him plenty of perspective to peer at life in a whole new way that does not include caffeine, alcohol or sex.

Would he kill and die for this amazing human being that makes Tony's heart race no matter the day, that inspires him to be a better version of himself? Yes, no questions asked. No hesitation and no regret.

Would he clobber Peter for doing the impossible and technically causing Tony incredible discomfort on a daily basis thanks to what his doctors can only assume is a superhuman baby he already loves and adores more than life itself? Also yes.

Things aren't mutually exclusive in this household.

Pep, bless her, has yet to find out about their future mini Parker so there's been no respite on the whole 'running a multi billion dollar industry ' thing. And yeah, while it's not exactly easy, he can focus on other things and not fall into a panicky state of mind — because him? A father? Of a super baby? Tony Stark, infamous playboy with a hedonistic streak, a dad?

Just thinking along those lines makes shame and self doubt slither over a metallic plate. Working, dealing with innovative scientists, crafting the new world of tomorrow, guaranteeing the safety of their planet, shapeshifting into a role model, a mentor (for the interns and school kids he visits, not Peter, of course, thank God they left that dynamic ages ago), loyal friend, reluctant errand boy (fuck the assholes in charge of the Accords), great husband, good man, it all distracts a fearful child from thinking, what if I turn into Howard?

"I couldn't find brownies, so cookies it is! Aunt May had a few boxes sent in when I told her work was keeping you on your feet all the time. Said it'd be a good idea to snack along the day in case you—" Peter freezes, tenses with a not-so-narrow back held ramrod straight. Oh, his husband brought him breakfast in bed.

How could he ever think to clobber such a nice, wonderful—

"Your scent is odd."

"Yeah, well fuck you too then."

Five seconds of silence.

"I'm bringing you one cup of coffee and the hormone pills."

" Yup, that's a great idea. "

---------------------------

Tony’s mumbo jumbo with self loathing is firmly put on the back burner after inhaling a delicious breakfast and chugging that one glorious cup of coffee. Until they go to the bathroom and he sees himself in the mirror.

"We gotta tell them."

"You said you wanted to wait a while before saying anything."

Peter strips, ducks into the warm shower, lets out a pleased little sigh and Tony wants to rip his fingernails off. Is it bad, having sex while pregnant? No! The doctors, every single one of them, said it's a perfectly normal thing to do. It'd be bad if they didn't have sex because Tony, thanks to his crazy hormone production, needs the extra attention for his body to understand this is a happy process that shouldn't include sad pheromones or stressed out moments. Will Peter put him out of his misery and allow a quickie in the mornings? No.

"Take more than five minutes in that shower and I'm joining you."

Listen, he grew up in the 80's and 90's, Tony wasn't immune to peer pressure. Did he cave and eventually do so many squat competitions with Rhodey his butt turned into a duck's butt? There's no evidence, he's made sure, but yes. And Starks have always turned out to be beautiful, doesn't matter your gender or age. Finding a companion for the night has never been a problem for anyone in his family tree.

That, and his work as Iron Man has kept him — well, not ripped like Cap, certainly not as lean and (God help him) athletic as Peter, but fit. Sturdy. Firm. Solid. (Peter once muttered the words 'daddy-like' in regards to his body and he nearly choked on water.)

The passage of time has made him a bit slower, dusted once black hair with, as his husband says, stardust and the corners of his eyes now show how much time Tony spends laughing or frowning. All in all, he looks fucking spectacular for his age and experience as a villain-punching-bag. Thing is, he has a belly. A bump. A curve where it was once, well. Less curvy. Is it a problem for Peter? Nope, as acknowledged every time his alpha tackles him if he so much as looks oddly in the mirror. Is it a problem for him? He'll get back to you on that.

The point is, there's a belly when just a few months ago there wasn't such a pronounced belly. It's great, of course. Proof their child is growing steadily and Tony's body is adjusting to it accordingly. A small part of him, the omega part he actually lets live, is fascinated and proud. He's doing that, Tony's the one growing a human being, creating life out of nothing in his own body. That child, although not the only physical embodiment of their relationship, is a result of his love for Peter. Of how much his husband loves him. They love each other so much they're gonna start another family together. That chokes him up a bit, reminds him how grateful he is for Peter and for the other Avengers. If they hadn't been so accepting of his status, would he have ever considered going through with this?

Anyway, he's not gonna start sobbing this early in the morning when there's no alcohol involved. It's fantastic seeing his child develop, good, warm and fuzzy feelings, yada yada yada, it's also not very easy to hide. And Tony...Tony wanted to hide it from his family because.

Because Peter hasn't been the only partner in all his life that has wondered about a future with a white picket fence. Because when he was Peter's age, in his goddamn prime, a doctor, ten doctors, all the doctors told him the same thing, smashed his dream into a million pieces. Tony was nearly infertile. There was a one in a million chances of him getting pregnant. If he did, they couldn't be sure his body would be able to maintain two hearts. And then the cave happened.

So yeah. It happened to his cousins, his aunt, a few uncles, his grandmother. Tony would do a baby announcement, but only the second that baby was outside of him and safely in his arms. Now there are still several months left and nothing certain. But time is a bitch and beginning to show the world, maybe those extra pounds aren't from eating the Parker's amazing breakfasts.

"Tony, you know I don't wanna risk-" Losing control of my strength. They've been together long enough that Tony can see quite clearly between the lines.

"Hurting us, yeah, I know, I understand. I'm getting too wide, we're gonna have to tell them or Natasha will take one look at me and whoops, impromptu announcement from someone else. It's a miracle she was out on those missions when we found out." Thank God for renegade troops.

He's still looking at himself in the mirror when Peter comes out, barely dries up and slides behind him. His husband is slightly taller now, can easily hook a curved jaw on Tony's shoulder to peer at the image they make. Contrasts, he supposes, have always enthralled Tony. The study of light and shadow. Variations of the same basic components. Where his body is aging, showing signs of wear and tear, Peter's is evolving into something beautiful, majestic. Silver hair, chestnut brown. Scarred canvas, silky smooth and sunkissed skin. Soft, fragile curves, chiseled lines that deserve to be revered more than Michelangelo’s David. But their eyes, their eyes are equally tired.

“We can tell them if you want, have dinner together and just, just say it. Like that -”

“No. It's our kid, we're not gonna act like it's ripping off a band aid. This is special, unique. Dinner is good. Fantastic, actually. Wait for dessert, and announce it. “ Peter comes ever closer, wraps arms that could carry the world around him and how did he get so lucky?

They've lied to each other in the past. Mostly in the beginning, when they were too worried about hurting their new relationship to show their desires and wants. Tony didn't explain the Training Wheels Protocol. Peter tried to fight high level crime on his own. Things got hard to understand, like being in the right place at the wrong time. Puzzle pieces that didn't quite fit together, an extra inch of space prohibiting them from seeing all the possibilities that the truth could bring. They were walking the same path, just in parallel lines that never crossed.

But then he'd been rejected, thrown away and able to realize how fucking stupid it was to let Peter go when being near the kid, it felt like finally breathing after residing in the deep end of a pool for a thousand years. So Tony ran after him one day, crashed into his AP English class, half assed an excuse for the baffled teacher, yanked Peter out of the room and proceeded to have the best make out session of his life with his back against the kid's locker. And now they don't lie, ever.

Which is why it's so hard to accept Peter's, “You're beautiful, Tony. The handsomest man I've ever seen in my life. I loved you before, I love you now, I'll love you forever, Anthony Stark. You carrying our kid doesn't change that, how could it, Tony? It's going to be ok. The three of us will be ok and I won't stop thanking whoever decided I'd get to marry my wet dream.”

Scorching kisses trace his pulse point slowly, sharp nails start dragging against a too thin shirt, but it's the fact that Peter hasn't looked away from him, is confidently holding his gaze through the glass, that makes Tony shudder and stop breathing.

The bathroom is flooded with pheromones, cinnamon and honey assaulting an unprepared billionaire, and he'll die if they stay like this, can't function properly, brain switching gears, trying valiantly to remember baseball stats, past wounds, May's cooking because Peter's gonna wreck his sanity if those hands keep winding down, if those lips don't stop unraveling him like a Christmas present.

“If I'd known you'd get this handsy and romantic, I would have complained about how I look earlier." It's a gasp, half murmur, half plea as Peter grins at him shamelessly. “I know it's rude and wrong and sexist, but I like comforting my omega, acting like a stereotypical alpha. Makes me feel like I'm doing my job of making you happy. “

He quirks an eyebrow, is glad Peter can be comfortable enough to take the reins every once in a while. “You're telling me that assuring me I'm still drop dead gorgeous, “ his husband snorts, nips at Tony's shoulder for that quip, “ makes you horny because you feel like an alpha comforting, and I quote, ‘your omega’? “

Peter reverts back to the shy teenager who could barely ask a girl out to the homecoming dance, ducks his head into Tony’s neck with a blush quickly spreading over damp skin. “Well, I've got news for you, sweetheart. Your wet dream also thoroughly enjoys it so you better break tradition and have sex with me to remind me I'm the hottest man you've ever seen. "

He's actually serious about this, his self esteem hasn't exactly been, you know, the best and Tony's mood always improves significantly after playing around in bed with Peter. Besides, it's a sign of trust. Peter won't hurt him or their child, will be able to hold back his strength. He always does.

Listen, it's not exactly moral, but he has more than enough problems to go ahead and analyze his attraction and dependency on Peter while pregnant.

“So, I can distract you from your bad thoughts by acting sort of possessive and taking you to bed? " Oh, he adores when his husband is afraid of showing a new side of himself and asks for permission ever so sweetly.

“Babe, if you don't, I'll kick you out of the apartment. Give me possessive Peter Parker any day you want, like I'm gonna complain about a gorgeous, brilliant twenty something year old all over me. Now what's it gonna be, alpha dear, bathroom or bedroom? I wouldn't mind the tile but, oh God, I forgot you could pick me up." Tony clings to broad shoulders, can't help but laugh because aren't they a pair?

-------------------------

After having what he's sure was the best sex of his life, Tony stumbles out of the bedroom with torn clothes, a dazed look in his eyes and several bruises blossoming around his neck. Peter's halfway out the doorway when Tony whistles, makes sure all their family is paying attention, blurts out, “Peter and I are having a kid. I'm pregnant, woohoo, it's great, it's amazing, save your congratulations for later. We'll do a proper thing soon, if anyone interrupts and they're not dying, I'll kill you myself. See you in a few hours, " and yanks him back in while Friday activates Sock on the Doorknob Protocol.

Rhodey and Nat clink glasses while waiting on the others to pay up on their bets regarding Tony and Peter's odd behavior.

--------------------------

Later, much later, like, two days later, they have a proper dinner with their family in the tower. There are balloons and streamers, cake and ice cream, warm hugs and gentle cheek kisses, subtle tears and full on weeping (Happy had to borrow a box of Kleenex), pictures and videos and a pile of gifts taller than Tony.

The most important thing, though, is that the A.I recorded the reaction after Clint asked about baby names. He's grateful they went to the doctor before tonight. The visit revealed a treasure Tony thought he'd never have. Now it's time to reveal it to their pack.

His husband snuggles up to him, is so ecstatic the whole dining room smells like cinnamon and honey, like joyous love he'll never get enough of. Tony grins at him, curls their hands together and repeats the same thing over and over again in his head.

It'll be ok. They'll be ok. If the universe keeps giving Tony the greatest gifts he could ever want, maybe it's time he stopped looking at the horse's mouth. That's how it goes, right? Right.

He turns to look at Peter, loves him so much it aches, feels tiny feet pressing against his stomach. Guesses he's not the only one smitten with this incredible human being.

“We were thinking Marie,” Peter smiles at him, eyes lit up and lovely.

Tony is never going to forget this moment, this warmth in his chest.

“And Benjamin Parker-Stark.”

Their family loses their shit and both Friday and Karen have ample proof.

Today's theme is heat/rut and it's slightly nff, has some sexual teasing but nothing too explicit. I'd rate this teen, is all I'm saying. I apologize for any writing mistakes, I'm finishing this at 11pm before collapsing in my bed.

Tagging @vaguekiwi cuz I mentioned this to her today

Needy little alpha

------------

Tony wakes up to a purring alpha throwing himself on top of his defenseless body with the force of a freight train driven by a drunk man on drugs. Peter's been told a thousand times before how yes, he may be as heavy as a goddamn feather, but it still aches when that super strength plops down and refuses to let the victim's lungs function adequately. But his boyfriend is a sadist who loves cuddles and making Tony suffer.

"No."

"You love my cuddles," it's true, they bring him pain and purple bruises everywhere but there's nothing quite as soothing as a content alpha kneading like a kitten at his chest, " and you know it. "

"Uh, that's false. Never said I love cuddles. I tolerate your octopus habits, there's a difference." Peter leans back with a pout and teary eyes, wobbles that God forsaken bottom lip like he always does whenever Tony denies the kid something and presents a challenge.

Nimble fingers slide up into, unfortunately, silver hair and nonononono that's unfair. He snarls, tries to infuse the air with as many displeased pheromones as possible so Peter can take a hint when nails scratch right above his nape and Tony's done. Unravels at this hobgoblin's feet and he's half way sure his soul goes out in a huff as little circles are pressed into the exact spot that causes him so much neck pain.

Peter unashamedly preens when Tony melts into their bed and starts pawing at him for more cuddles. "Say you love my cuddles and I won't leave the bed for an hour. Throw in a kiss and I'll rub your back."

He hates(loves) this kid. Hates(loves) how he sing songs as soon as the situation doesn't favour the actually responsible adult in the relationship. Hates(loves) the way Peter never misses the places that leave him sinking into fluffy pillows. Hates how, oh that's nice.

There are tiny kisses littered on a chest glowing blue, small indentations from teasing lips pressed into spread arms and cold hands.

"Ruts gotten you needy, huh, little alpha?" Not that this one was any different from all the other ruts they've shared since dating. Tony secretly adores Peter like this, extra affectionate the minute his shyness and fear of outside criticism is washed away, replaced with the need to shower his omega in love and attention. Yes, Peter has his heart 365 days of the year. Yes, he'd die for his tiny spiderling no matter what.

But this is just really nice, ok? Previous lovers were rarely alphas so this ritual of gluing their bodies together when rut came was an added benefit to being with Peter. That and the hormones he let out while happy soothed Tony to no end.

Peter nips at his finger, still a bit too early on for him to accept the nicknames. He blushes though, a pale pink highlighting a face much more lovely than the cherubs painted on the cathedrals of Rome. Jesus, he's whipped and all they've done is cuddle.

In for a penny, in for a pound.

"I love your cuddles. Cherish them. Want them every day for the rest of my life. But I love you, my needy little alpha with a fantastic," there's a pillow smashed against his face.

"If you say dick, I'm climbing down to wrestle Bucky and I won't let Karen record it for your spank bank. " Oh, that's a low blow.

He relaxes, let's Peter sink into him with a startled yelp, rolls them over, sits on the kid's lap and clamps his knees around a trim waist. Peter may be Spider-Man, but he's Tony Stark and Tony Stark doesn't lose in bed.

Well. Not unless he wants to.

"You do that and you can say hello to your toy, the one I know is stashed in your old room under the bed in a comic book box, because that'll be the only thing helping you out when the rut really hits." Will Tony suffer immensely if that happens? Yes. He's a sucker for a needy Peter being ridiculously horny and possessive. Thing is, you don't threaten a man's spank bank. No sir. Everything else is fair play. His carefully organized folders of viewing material are not to be messed with.

Peter's blush is on full blast, spreads over a long neck and absolutely delicious, no. Be strong, Tony.

"You know about the toy?" It's a squeak, normal voice rocketing upwards thanks to the position Tony's ass is in and the knowledge that his secret is out. Which wasn't even a secret to begin with anyway because Tony is in love with the only genius not smart enough to erase his browser history in the lab's computer. Which Tony uses. Routinely. Every day.

"Know about it? I've seen it. You left it out once, all used up on your bed while you were showering. You remember that, don't you? We had sex in the bathroom that day. Bruised my back and everything?"

Peter furrows his brow, works a plush lip and no, look away, Tony, look away. The kid is sin and indulgence and heaven and no.

"Oh. Oh." Whenever he thinks his boy can't go any redder, Peter busts out a new shade of pink.

"Yup. So. I'm pretty sure this is what you wanted in the first place. Maybe it wasn't your intention," he stresses when Peter's already launching up and nearly throwing him off in an attempt to reassure Tony that wasn't his purpose with the cuddles, "but you certainly wouldn't have minded this outcome. And by this outcome I mean my incredible ass on top of that fantastic dick."

Peter tries to suffocate with a pillow held over his face.

"You've got two choices, kid. You threatened the spank bank. The teasing is fine, you know I love when my pretty kitty shows his claws," a hand slaps his arm, makes him grin, " But threatening such an integral part of my mental stability? Wrong move, Queens. You aren't getting any until tonight, not even so much as a French kiss will be given. Unless you let me bite a mark on that amazing neck and don't push me away when I nuzzle you in front of the team. "

Well. Now he's definitely being thrown off of Peter's lap.

He lands on the other side of the bed with a groan, is assaulted by a whining Peter intent on receiving something to further postpone the urge for sex that's sure to hit him soon enough.

An alpha, Tony's learned, will usually be very cuddly and affectionate the first few days of a rut week. Then the possessive, protective side will slowly emerge. Nests of pillows, couch cushions, blankets and favorite pieces of clothing appear on the fourth sunrise. The next morning comes with the need for relief, for intimacy and a marathon of sex that'll leave any supersoldier exhausted by the end of it. The resulting days offer comfort, an aftercare of sorts, where the alpha and their partner show a soft affection similar to the beginning. Nests are utilized and bodies soothed. It lasts, at most, a week and the majority of the population only has to take slightly increased portions of food.

That's for people without the metabolism of four grown men.

Peter needs sex, as much as possible, so the itch for urgent intimacy doesn't result in Tony tackled to the floor of the lab in the middle of an experiment every day of the week. It's like giving him nicotine patches instead of a cigarette.

So now he's whimpering, tugging on Tony's clothes just a little too hard if the ripping sound is any indication.

"...sorry, Tony..."

"It's fine, I've got more. I'm not letting this go though. The teams' seen us fuck against a wall, their opinion and respect, your worth, didn't change. So come on. Just one little mark. One. And Bucky nuzzles Steve and Sam all the time. Hell, Pepper sometimes nuzzles me when I'm stressed out. Please, baby? "

There it was; Tony's secret weapon. Peter blushed like a virgin on a wedding night whenever he used pet names, but the genius knows his boyfriend enjoys the familiarity and subtle intimacy. Felt reassured that they were a romantic couple and not a mentor fucking his protege.

The kid nibbles at his neck, wraps gangly limbs around a body that's always been his to take comfort in. "Just one mark? And light, I mean it, Tony, light nuzzling in front of the team. For today. Then I can get what I want?"

He snorts, can't fully comprehend how the universe paired him up with someone so intent on making Tony's joints ache and creak. "Yeah, we can have sex later, Mr Charming. Subtle as brick, that Spider-Man. Let's go get you cleaned up, make sure that rut has a hard time getting my boy under the weather."

He goes to get up. He leans forward. He cannot, in fact, leave the bed.

Peter bites with a bit more pressure, drops his hips down harder and Jesus Christ, they're never seeing the light of the kitchen if his boyfriend can't wait til it's dark.

"Or..."

"I'm an old man, I need protein before you go jumping tired bones that have to spend two hours updating your suit." Ok, so maybe he's slightly bitter and annoyed at not having enough stamina (or refractory period, for that matter) to keep up with a repressed teenage superhuman. It's not his fault Pepper keeps bringing Krispy Kreme donuts to the office meetings.

It'd be rude not to eat with the others anyway.

"You don't have to do anything." Ah, it's one of those ruts.

Tony softens, smoothes a hand down a back that could hold a plank under a five story building with ease, kisses a heated cheek.

"Needy little alpha." It's his turn to whisper and nuzzle against soft skin.

"Kind, not so little omega?" Tony laughs, presses their lips together so Peter can see what's it like to taste a smile radiating with joy and love. Slowly clicks the button on the nearest nightstand; unless someone is dying , it'll just be the two of them in the room.

(There was an incident once. Groot may have been traumatized by a situation involving superstrength, webs and the Ironette costume Tony only adored when it adorned Peter's body.)

"I do so love my needy little alpha needing me, don't I?"

His boyfriend blinks, grins at Tony as if he's just hung the moon and stars for his spiderling and ok, a little sex early in the morning isn't that bad.

"You love my cuddles too."

"Shut up and kiss me, Queens. I'm not getting any-"

They don't talk about anything too important after that.

----------

A little sex early in the morning actually is that bad when you miss a meeting with the U.N and show up smelling like sex, infatuation and, oddly enough, strawberry.

Peter's doing it again. Trying to merge with Tony, fuse their bodies together even when the boy knows it isn't possible unless several bones are tossed away. But it's his boyfriend. Peter doesn't stop attempting something unless a freight train knocks him out. There are, unfortunately, no trains in the tower.

He's kidding.

(He's not, Tony's got a pointy elbow digging into a stomach a bit too fleshy for his liking, skinny knees knocking harshly against his own and fluffy hair up to his nose. He loves the kid, he does. But these cuddle sessions are leaving purple bruises every time Pete forgets his strength and squeezes Tony lovingly.

It's cute.

He's dying.)

The screen flashes, sunset orange assaulting them as the Manda(d)lorian blows up what looks like the alien monster Thanos stored his troops in. Peter, a painful blessing, wiggles even closer to provide comfort and chase away horrible memories he's too young to have. It's one of the only reasons Tony's thankful for the age difference; Peter was too busy enjoying his childhood with May and Ben to really focus on the demons that haunted the concrete jungle and, years later, the billionaire's nights.

A stray curl of brown hair goes into Tony's mouth, now Pete's in his lap and Jesus, he needs to exercise with Rhodey if the kid can so easily get him winded. It's ridiculous, Pete can't be much more than a hundred and twenty pounds when he's wet but his chest still heaves like the time he and honey bear had to sprint through the whole MIT campus so they wouldn't be late for a final test.

Maybe he's just tired from playing with Morguna yesterday? Yeah, that makes a lot more sense than his spiderling exhausting Tony so suddenly when just two days ago he pinned Peter to the wall and-

Sniffling. There's sniffling. His shirt is wet, tremors are wracking Peter's blanket covered body and what the hell happened, no enemy is near, nobody died and his boyfriend didn't mention anything bad getting him down at school. Oh god, is his lover hurt? No, no, Friday would have notified Tony. He thinks about all the dates May has drilled into his head and no traumatic anniversary is even close to today.

Pete hides his face against the arc reactor for all of two nanoseconds before Tony is tugging him up like a sorrowful puppy, tucking the boy's knees on either side of his hips so Tony can properly face the creature softly sobbing.

"Hey, hey, baby, what's wrong? Are you hurt anywhere? Do you wanna shut that off, head to our room and cuddle under your fave blankets? Maybe eat breakfast at midnight? Cuz you know I can wake Sam up and he'll cook that French Toast you like. With the, you're still crying. Oh, hey. I can steal Strange's cape. There's my puppy eyed boy. Tell me what's wrong and I'll snatch it in five minutes."

He'd feel bad about negotiating, but Peter has strictly informed Tony in the past that there's no other way to get him out of his head. A cause and effect type of dynamic helps Peter rationalize; if he explains the situation, Tony can help resolve it. It's a system that always makes things bearable, brings Peter back into reality much more quickly than anything else. Unless there are puppies. Then he can skip away from internal shadows in chase of cute dogs within five seconds.

"It's just," Tony inhales deeply, mentally prepares himself for nightmares, terrible flashbacks or another bully determined to make his baby sad, "don't laugh. I'm serious about this, ok?"

That lower lip wobbles and he's ready to go, body prepared to leap off the building and hunt down any threat that's causing half of his heart to sob like this. "I promise I won't laugh at you. I would never, ever laugh at something that causes you pain, Pete. I promise I'll help in any way I can. Tell me what's wrong."

A slow inhale now so Peter can copy him and explain without being in the verge of an attack. Two, five, ten beats of his heart dedicated to calming the kid. He still burst into tears.

"You're just such a good dad, Tony." Pete crumbles, cries into his neck and what the fuck just happened? How is this his life? Something chirps from the tv and Baby Yoda runs towards his father. The exact same way Morgan ran to Tony last night.

Even if Peter dumps him because of it, he's canceling the fucking show.

"Peter Benjamin Parker, are you drunk? Or high? I'm gonna put you to bed and you will sleep until those neurons wake up again because this is the weirdest thing you've ever done. Come on, no, don't use your super strength, that's cheating."

His sweet, adorable, exhausting boyfriend shakes his head, refuses to move and Tony relents, huffs into warm hair just to be petty. "You're so soft with her, Tony, just like Mando and the baby. And it's really cute, and pure, and wholesome, ok?"

"So you're crying about it at midnight?"

"I'm a sensitive person, Mr Tin Can.

"Jesus, Pep wasn't like this when pregnant," it's a low murmur but Pete still slaps his arm, sends Tony flailing onto the floor with the kid on his lap. Definitely gonna work out with Rhodey.

"You see? This is what you do to me, Peter. Give me a heart attack and bruises. I think we're gonna invade some professor's office to fix an unfair grade and you're crying because of a green puppet."

"Hey! He's more than that, he's adorable." More sniffling. He's getting this kid a therapist.

"FIne, an adorable green puppet. I'm gonna get you waffles and the cape and access to the show if you stop giving me injuries. Now help me up, I'm pretty sure my back can't take this."

Nothing. Not a twitch. Why does Tony always fall for the stubborn ones? "I'll let you braid my hair with Morgan tomorrow, so please assist an old man, oh God." Peter heaves him up, nearly throws Tony into a wall before controlling that superhuman strength and leaving his boyfriend upside down on his shoulder.

Well, at least he isn't crying anymore.

(They watch the next episode with Morgan. They both sob on his chest, mutter something about being a wonderful father and yeah, he's happy they think that, glad he's creating a better legacy than the one he inherited but Tony's 99% sure every Avenger is wiping away tears and there isn't enough Kleenex for all of them when they wail about "pure and wholesome" relationships.

He buys the team Baby Yoda plushies. Just to calm them down.)

"Mr Stark, Mr Stark, please, it's really fine. I can just stay here; May's apartment is just fifteen minutes away and Happy misses her anyway. It's a win-win!"

Tony snarls, clutches at his hand, keeps heading to the front desk with enough of a murderous aura people scramble to clear a path. His heart thrills, basically leaps with joy because this is for him, this is his partner outraged on Peter's behalf. And then the anxiety goes from its usual ten to a thirty because this is happening because of Peter.

A tug does absolutely nothing so he yanks, uses just a bit of super strength to haul Tony in a shadowed hallway where the overhead lights won't show how he clings like a koala to a heaving chest. Tony could be frothing at the mouth and out for blood, but the man would never hurt him, even accidentally.

Peter nuzzles a warm neck, tightens the grip around Tony until the billionaire relents and slowly returns the hug, body slumping around his smaller frame. It's ok, Peter can hold them both up. One breath, two breaths, fifteen breaths to calm a heart much more fragile than his own.

"I can wait here. The conference is for Tony Stark, not Spider-Man and definitely not me. You'll be late if you don't go now and Pepper's counting on us to see this through. It's my first week and, unlike a certain someone," he tickles right below the third rib, gets a startled chuckle in exchange, " Miss Potts can fire me if I don't 'produce results that benefit the company'. She cares for me, but I have to work hard to earn my place, make it harder for people to say I'm only in the company because I warm your bed. "

Tony jolts back, ready to discourage that line of thinking, assure him that's not, would never be the case and Peter can't fucking cry in an airport because Tony will be late for work. But Jesus, he's really grateful he fell for someone that loves him so much they'd always make sure he knew that.

Thing is, Peter doesn't have the secrets to the universe. Can't be certain, 100% certain of lots of things like whether or not there are multiple realities, if Ned really was serious about dating Betty and who the hell taped him dancing to Abba during a particularly odd fighting session with miss Natasha. Anyway.

The point is one of the few things he does know, will never doubt for as long as he lives, is that Tony Stark, the 'Man in a Can', the saviour of the world, loves him with all his heart. Metal parts and all. So he pins his boyfriend to the wall and doesn't let him speak.

"Tony, it's fine. A pilot refusing to let an intern board the VIP plane can be expected. He doesn't know who I am and that's ok because you promised me we'd tell the company six months in. It's been a week. If we had to wait til I turned eighteen for you to hug me longer than five seconds, we can wait till I've proven myself. Besides, going to the parks was a bonus, not the main thing."

It's not like he hasn't walked into an amusement park since he was twelve and his parents were still around.

Tony mumbles, starts to wheeze and shit yeah, Peter has to rein in the strength. His lover inhales deeply, waves off the concern and pulls him in again to disappear into fluffy, previously styled, hair.

"You're telling me you don't wanna ride the Hulk rollercoaster and take a selfie to send Banner while he's giving class? You're really telling me no to that?"

Well, at least he's back to normal.

"Tony, don't be mean. And I'm your intern. What would people say if they saw me rubbing your back while you puked over a bridge?" That earns him an indignant squawk from his ridiculous boyfriend and a peal of laughter from Happy. Crap, he forgot their security team could hear them through the earpieces.

"Excuse you, kid, but I was flying into the air at more than a hundred miles per hour while you were in kindergarten. "

"To be fair, I think he was in middle school."

"Shut it, Hogan, or I'll tell May you hate her walnut demons."

Peter gasps, turns to the now flustered Happy with mock surprise. "You don't like May's baking? Happy. She'll be so disappointed. Might even reconsider getting the Stark dating app." He ducks, grins when the stack of documents Happy always carries around smacks Tony right on the nose.

"Bullseye." Frank, the new security detail's leader, coughs into his shoulder, but the so called genius still glares at him before shoving the papers into Pete's hands.

"Fine. Be a good intern and hold these. I thought 'oh no, I can't let Pete's honor be questioned so I should get the pilot fired and my boyfriend a seat next to me. He's my partner and I can take him anywhere he wants in the world. Let's have a nice date after the conference, that could take his mind off of things'. But it's fine, Mr Intern. I'll just say you're my assistant. See how you like economy while I'm flying first class." Tony stomps away, angrily complains about ungrateful boyfriends , traitorous best friends and incompetent bodyguards.

While heading to the opposite gate.

Peter snickers as he turns back, manages to bite his lip when Tony seethes and warns them to not say a word about being old and unable to decipher directions. Frank absolutely loses his shit right there, has to grip his second in command's arm when Tony plucks Peter up like a kitten and drags him beside the philanthropist's hunched figure.

An arm wraps around his shoulder and refuses to move until they're on the plane, the pilot's sulking in the airport cafeteria and Peter's just a seat away from the world's most ridiculous, loveable, caring boyfriend. Tony tugs at him, says something about being cold and spiders running hot. But they both know he's just happy to have his lover, uh, intern close by. For matters of the company, yeah.