Okay, Stephen’s gotta be pretty drunk to be this nice, but Tony doesn’t even have the focus to mock him for the sentimentality. Peter. Perfect, beautiful Peter Strange. He’s got the loveliest blush on his cheeks, ducking his head like he’s shy and Tony’s heart-

Peter holds out his hand. “Nice to meet you,” he beams, a sunbeam, a fucking ray of sunshine- “and I’m not very good, Stephen’s the real doctor.”

Stephen scoffs in outrage and Tony grins, tipping his head.

“I’m sure that’s not true. There’s quite clearly something special in your family’s genes.” Tony murmurs, feeling stupid even as the words leave his mouth. He can just picture this omega with babies now, babbling in his arms, babies with big eyes and soft skin and-

A woman from across the bar calls Stephen’s name and he wanders off leaving the two with each other. Peter blushes again.

“Let me buy you a drink.” Tony offers and Peter smiles.

“No, no, please let me buy you one. It’s the least I can do- thank you for-for your service, it’s- so- so brave-“

Tony laughs, feeling a little giddy. “I’ll have a beer. And I’ll get you a…” he glances at the drinks on the board. “A blueberry horizon.”

The omega hops onto a barstool and Tony slides in beside him. Peter nods delightedly. “Okay. Are they nice?”

“I think you’ll like it, I have an eye.” The alpha hums, “it’s very sweet. Like you.”

Another glorious blush.

Tony remembers that night. Eighteen years old and his first time back. He remembers talking to Peter all night, remembers them leaning into each other, feeling the heat of the omega’s body, he remembers Peter’s giggle, remembers steadying him when the two had gone outside for some fresh air.

He remembers the starlight in Peter’s eyes, and the flush across the bridge of his nose.

“I want you.” He’d whispered, drunk off alcohol and lust.

Peter had blinked up at him sweetly. “Want me to do what?” He’d whispered back, and Tony’s chest had clenched something fierce. 

“To…to take a walk with me.” He’d offered instead, holding out his arm like a gentleman. “To look at the moon with me.”

Peter had been speechless for a moment, looking up at him in wonder. “It’s like an old movie.” He’d beamed and Tony laughed. 

They’d strolled away into the darkness and by the time dawn came up, Tony was in love.

***

It’s been a few years since then. Tony’s twenty-five now, and his six-year contract has finally come to an end.

“You’re not gonna stay on?” Stephen asks in surprise, renewing his contract as a field medic for another five.

“Enough for me,” Tony murmurs, looking up at the moon the way he always does when he feels like he could finally get everything he wants. 

The problem with only being back in America a few weeks at a time is that over the past few years, he and Peter have only seen each other on a handful of occasions. They’re friends. Peter writes and sends care-packages to both his brother and Tony.

On average, Tony’s seen him maybe two days a year for the past seven years. 

Each time Peter is more beautiful. Last time was at a New Years Party, with Peter breathlessly regaling him with a story of a premature birth, hands moving expressively, as the two of them leaned against the railing on the roof and watched fireworks going in the distance. 

“I’ve missed you, Pete,” Tony had admitted, wincing at his own lack of tact. “I never get to see you.”

“Aw, Tony,” Peter had knocked their hips together, resting his head on Tony’s shoulder. “I miss you too. But it means we always have lots to talk about when you’re back.”

They talk and talk and they have a good time, but there are topics that are never touched on. 

Tony’s never asked if Peter’s seeing anyone. Never broached it with Stephen either. It hadn’t seemed fair to express any sort of interest, to stake any sort of claim, not while he was away so often. The thought- the miraculous thought- of Peter liking Tony back, and then having to wait for him. To wait alone for a few days of snatched contact, to be lonely and unsupported and-

The thought was too agonising. 

So, Tony has waited and waited and-

“I want to go home. Settle down. Be around.”

Stephen smiles, pouring the both of them some bourbon. “Any idea where you’ll go?”

Tony takes the glass as it’s offered. “Brooklyn, maybe.”

Stephen chuckles in surprise. “Well good, keep an eye on Peter for me. He adores you, you know.”

Tony’s fingers tremble and he hopes it’s true. 

Stephen gives him a look then, curious and frighteningly intelligent, but he doesn’t say anything. They play cards and drink bourbon and Stephen accuses him of cheating.

At the end of the night in their bunks, Stephen talks into the darkness. 

“I’ll miss you, Stark. You’re…you’re like another brother to me.”

Tony says, “I’ll miss you too,” and thinks about what it might be like having Stephen as a brother-in-law.

He thinks it might be pretty great. 

***

As a young Alpha in Brooklyn fresh out of the army, he’s treated with a lot of respect. People nod at him, offer to buy him drinks and clap him on the back like he’s an old friend.

He finds a place to rent and gets a great deal even though he doesn’t need it. He’s got a lot saved up. His fingers itch to call Peter, but first he goes to a few job interviews. Tries to get a feel for living in the city and having his own space after so long of sharing and barracks. 

He gets the first job he applies for. It’s as a security consultant for a big firm. It’s good pay and the female Alpha who shakes his hand is no-nonsense and impressed with him. 

He buys himself a bed.

He spends a lot on it. It’s ludicrously big and the mattress is extra plush, queen, memory foam. He gets a fancy headboard and high-thread blankets. When he tries to sleep on it that night, it’s a little awkward. He sinks into the softness, feels unnatural. 

He tells himself he wants a change, but he’s lying. The bed isn’t for him. 

It’s for the softest, most beautiful, most deserving person Tony knows.

***

“Tony!” Peter cries, leaping into his arms in the March sunshine and clutching him tight. Tony lifts him clear off the ground: breathing him in. 

Tony’s in uniform. He feels more comfortable in it, but also, he thinks that maybe- maybe Peter likes seeing him in it. A few people on the street around them aww and applaud, but Tony has eyes for none of them. 

Peter’s in a bumble bee sweater and white jeans, looking so pleased to see him that Tony wants to- wants to make his move. 

But no. It’s not the right time. He’s just got back, he’s just moved to Brooklyn, he’s just started his job- it’s too soon. 

“Wow,” Peter murmurs, tracing his finger down the jagged line near Tony’s eye. His touch is like heaven and Tony leans into his caress. “A close call?”

“Real close.”

“I’m glad you’re safe.” Peter whispers, eyes huge, “and it’s very, very handsome.”

The scar had bled and bled and hurt like a bitch when it happened-

And Tony would do it again in a heartbeat, just for the way Peter wets his lips as he looks up at him. 

***

Over the next few months, things move slowly. 

Tony has a few bad dreams, writes letters to Stephen, and does his job. He buys more furniture, puts down more roots in the form of a real oak coffee table and a tv with cable. 

He visits Peter at the hospital he works at. He sees Peter as everything he knew he could be. Capable, brilliant, eyes flickering over information and reassuring to the pregnant Omegas. Peter’s hands are confident, assured, as they touch round bellies or squirming, wriggly babies. 

After his shift, they go and get lunch. 

“It’s like watching Stephen,” Tony says in awe, “you’re brilliant.”

Peter blushes and smiles, a classic Tony adores, and takes a bite of his salmon. Tony watches it go past his lips. “Well I think you’re brilliant.”

“And devastatingly handsome.”

“It’s devastating alright,” Peter teases. “So, what’s new? Have you made any friends in your building yet?”

Tony makes a face. “Why on earth would I want friends in my building?”

“Fine, Mr Grumps, what about…um…have you been…dating, or- or anything? Seeing someone?”

Tony stills, eyes flickering over Peter’s face trying to read him. What does that mean? But the omega looks carefully schooled, focused on his lunch. Is Peter asking as a friend? Or asking because- because- “I’m not seeing anyone,” Tony murmurs, waiting for Peter’s reaction. “Are you?”

“You’re- me? No, no…”

“No?” Tony hums, “no Alpha swept you off your feet?”

Peter’s honey eyes meet his. There’s silence for a beat, before Peter looks away. “Well, I mean- it’s just hard to find the time.”

“Is there someone you’re interested in?” Tony asks, voice a little too rough.

Those big, beautiful eyes keep looking at him, and then Peter’s pager beeps and they both seem relieved.

Tony finishes his lunch alone and tries to think. Maybe it’s time, maybe it’s time he made a move. He’s wanted Peter since that night in the bar. He’s back now, he’s-

But no. No, it’s not the right time and Peter’s right. The omega works so hard and doctors’ shifts are long and tiring and-

No. Not yet.

***

Peter’s apartment is all bronze accents and fluffy pillows. It’s near the hospital and has a pretty good view that makes up for all the sirens that go by. 

“I swear you’ve spoilt me.” Tony moans after he’s finished dessert. Peter’s cooking is phenomenal. After three helpings of spaghetti and chocolate brownie for dessert, he’s so content he could purr. 

Peter laughs, licking chocolate from his fingertips in a way that’s obscene. “I love watching you eat. I wish I could just feed you all the time, make sure you’re getting enough.”

It’s a very omega thing to say to an Alpha. Very traditional. Very domestic. Very intimate. What does it mean?

“It’s late,” Peter says, standing up and stretching. Tony can’t drag his eyes away from him. From the gorgeous figure he makes even in his frumpy green sweater with the floral collar and chocolate on his mouth. 

He pulls himself to his feet and reaches for his coat. “You’ve got an early shift-“

“No, I mean-“ Peter takes a step closer, swallowing hard, looking brave. “I mean, it’s late, you could…if you wanted, you could just stay over…”

Tony frowns, “what do you mean? The commute will be a bitch in the morning.”

Tony doesn’t understand when Peter looks embarrassed. “Nothing, no, don’t worry, I was just being silly, sorry.”

Tony doesn’t like that. Doesn’t like Peter looking awkward and humiliated. He feels like he’s missed something. “Pete?” He prompts gently, “are you alright? Was it a…was it a bad shift today?” That happens sometimes. Tragic things happen and Peter gets small and sad and needs someone to lean against for a few days, Tony gets that. “I’ll stay, sweetheart-“

“No, no, you don’t-“

“Hey, hey,” he collects the boy into his arms. “I’m here for you, okay? I’m here for you.” He kisses Peter’s temple: holds him tight. It takes a second, but eventually Peter relaxes into his embrace and they stand there, wrapped around each other.

Eventually they pull apart a little, and Peter peeks up at him.

Maybe now, Tony thinks to himself. Maybe this is the moment, maybe this is the right time-

But no. Peter’s had a long day and-

Warm and soft and perfect is the kiss placed onto the corner of Tony’s mouth. 

He’s so stunned that he can only stand there, unmoving, staring down at the omega in shock. 

Peter’s the colour of a rose petal, looking like the bravest thing in the world. 

Tony can’t even move. Does this- is this-

Peter stretches onto his tiptoes, hands still clutching Tony’s shoulders, and slower, much slower, presses another little butterfly kiss right onto the corner of Tony’s mouth.

He can hear his heart beating in his ears- is this- does he-

He’s hyperaware of his hand on Peter’s waist, one on the small of his back, of how they’re pressed together, of how perfect-

“Tony, I really like you.” Peter whispers, breath fanning over Tony’s face. “I was um…I was wondering if-“

“Yes,” Tony croaks, “yes, yes, yes, yesyesyesyes.”

Peter makes the most adorable sound of delight, and kisses Tony right on the mouth.

He tastes of chocolate and love and Tony sees it all again. He sees the golden mornings and the crosswords in bed. He sees the dog coming into the kitchen with the paper in his mouth, he sees a future, his future, with the love of his life-

“Hey Tony,” Peter giggles, lashes all wet with tears, “I adore you.”

Tony lets out a sob and buries his face into Peter’s curls. 

Coffee tables and cable can go screw themselves. He doesn’t need roots to be tethered somewhere- with Peter, he’s always home.

***

On Christmas Eve, Christine and Peter are making mince pies and competitively quoting It’s a Wonderful Life, and Tony’s in the living room, phone to his ear.

“How’s Christie?”

“You just spoke to her-“

“How is she really, Anthony?”

Tony sighs. “She misses you, but we’ve got her, Stephen, don’t worry. She understands. It’s just hard.”

Stephen’s silent for a while. Tony wonders if he’s thinking about his contract. Stephen clears his throat: “It’s a squeeze the three of you in that tiny flat, when are you and Peter going to get a house?”

“We’re gonna start searching after Christmas,” Tony chuckles, “Guess what I’ve got Pete for Christmas.”

“Something ingenious no doubt. A framed photo of yourself?” 

“Ha ha. No, get this,” Tony drops his voice, “it’s a puppy.”

“Really?”

“Uh huh,” Tony grins, “Rhodes is bringing it over tomorrow morning, crack of dawn.”

“Tony, he’s going to love it.”

“I know, right? Best-present-ever-sex is definitely on the table.”

“That’s my brother, Tony.”

“Not literally on the table, Christie’s here-“

“I’ve got you something.”

Tony laughs in surprise. “Really? How’d you pull that off? You didn’t have to do that, Stephen-“

“Shut up and let me tell you what it is.”

“Is it good?”

“Obviously. You’re going to feel bad about making sex jokes.”

“I’m excited.”

“Christie should’ve put it under the tree- in an envelope.”

Tony hums in surprise, looking under the tree where all the presents are. Sure enough, there’s a red envelope with his name on it. He examines it curiously. “What is it?”

“Open it, you moron.”

Tony rolls his eyes, balancing the phone in the crook of his neck, and opens it up. Inside is what looks like an old letter. He glances at it in confusion. “What am I looking at here, Doc?”

“It’s a letter Peter wrote me a very long time ago.”

Yes, he can recognise Peter’s handwriting now, doctor-scruffy with lots of loops. It’s very sweet. Tony gets the gist of the first few paragraphs. Peter asks if Stephen’s safe, tells him he misses him, how his studies are going and then- and then-

You might not remember but you introduced me to one of your friends when you were here last month. His name’s Tony. Is he single? He’s got the prettiest dark brown eyes and he was really nice to me and I was just wondering if he’d told you about me? We went for a walk and we talked all night. Do you think he might like me? Could you tell him I say hi? Don’t make me sound like a dork! He’s not like any Alpha I’ve ever met before. And mom said to call her! And-

“Holy shit.”

“Indeed.”

“A month after we met- a month after-“

“Yes, Tony,” Stephen sighs, but his voice is fond. “I’ve had the pleasure of seeing you two pine for seven years. I thought you might like it. I don’t say it often, but I do love you, Tony. I’m very glad you’re with my brother. However, you do worry. You’re a soldier and you have a keen sense of time and when to do things, but you hesitated with Peter. I’m not sure why, maybe you thought he didn’t like you, but regardless, I think, in love, just doing what feels right is okay, from time to time. Especially with you and Peter.”

“Stephen…”

“Merry Christmas, Tony.”

“I’m so glad I met you. You’ve changed my life.”

Stephen sniffles, like he might be crying. Tony calls Christie in, to let the two of them say goodbye, and heads into the kitchen.

Peter beams at him, flour on his cheeks. “George Bailey, I’ll love you till the day I die!” He quotes merrily, skipping over to peck Tony’s cheek, and Tony thinks about Stephen, and about love and about the puppy he’s going to give Peter tomorrow and the dog it’ll grow into and the kitchen they’ll have. He thinks about timings and all the waiting and the missed moments and then- he doesn’t think, he just does.

The first thing he says is: “I love you so much, Peter.”

And the next thing he does is get down onto one knee. 

--

merry christmas @lilsoshie your prompts were all equally amazing so it was really hard to choose, so I tried to merge a few of them together. I hope you liked this and that you have an amazing Christmas! All the love in the world1 

Anthony looks up from the yellowed pages of his book and at the large, towering double doors that lead to the library. Steven Rogers, the head of the King’s Army, stands in the doorway.

“Yes?” Anthony asks, peering over the top of his glasses. Steven walks into the library, gazing at the towering shelves of books.

“Virginia wants you to look at the decorations downstairs.” He tells the king,  the medals on his uniform glinting in the low light of the library. Anthony sighs, folding down the corner of his book and placing it on the coffee table. He stands up, the ache in his back throbbing slightly.  Steven eyes him warily.

“Then that’s where I’ll go.” Anthony responds, brushing past the general and into the hallway. The smell of perfectly cooked food fills his nostrils, his mouth watering at the thought of the feast. He walks slowly along the railing of the balcony, peering down into the main foyer. Servant omegas shuffle about, doing everything from putting out food to sweeping the floor. A huge Christmas tree stands in the corner, decorated with gold and red ornaments, a stunning golden star at the top. The railings along the second floor are strung with garland, as well as the side of the main staircase.

Anthony walks down the grandiose marble stairs, smiling at a young female omega who is cleaning the golden railing.

Virginia stands in the center of the commotion, giving orders to passing servants.

“Miss Potts,” Anthony greets, standing next to the redhead.

“Your Majesty,” She responds, looking down at the paper in her hands.

“It looks wonderful,” Anthony tells her, peering up at the glittering chandelier. Virginia turns to face him, lips pressed in a thin line.

“Thank you,” She says softly. “Guests are due to arrive in two hours. I suggest you start getting ready. Shall I send someone to draw you a bath?”

The corner of Anthony’s lips twitch as he studies the serious look on Virginia’s face.

“That would be lovely, thank you.” He tells her. She barks an order at a nearby servant, who looks very surprised indeed.

Anthony slips a pastry from the table before heading back to his room.

***

“You’re being stubborn.”

Anthony adjusts his deep red cloak in the mirror, watching the velvet billow around his shoulders.

“I am not. I’m just uninterested,” The king responds, turning to face Rhodey. The man narrows his eyes.

“You’re getting old, Tony. What will happen if you leave no heir?” He questions, deep voice laced with concern.

“That’s your job, then.” Anthony quips, nudging the other man in the shoulder.

Rhodey doesn’t look amused.

“Your people are getting restless,” He says softly. Anthony avoids his friend’s gaze. “If you don’t find an omega soon...”

Rhodey trails off, tucking his hands into the pockets of his slacks.

“Just promise me you’ll look tonight, okay?”

Anthony nods.

“Fine.” He responds. Rhodey gives him a look. “Fine.”

Rhodey raises his hands in mock defense, turning around the corner. Anthony follows him, entering the foyer where the party is taking place. It’s packed, alphas and betas and omegas dressed to the nines, taking up the large space.

“Your Majesty,” A brunette woman near him says, bowing slightly. The other nearby attendees catch on and bow too. Anthony nods in response, swiping a glass of red wine off of the tray of a young servant omega. He takes a long sip of the drink, surveying the area. Rhodey has already been whisked away by an attractive young lady, leaving Anthony alone.

The king abruptly turns to get something to eat, but instead-

He spills his drink all over the beautiful omega behind him.

“Oh, goodness!” The little thing squeaks, peering up at Anthony through huge glasses that sit on the bridge of his nose. “Your Majesty, I’m so sorry!”

The front of the boy’s frilled undershirt is stained a deep red from the wine. But Anthony can’t look at his shirt for long, because his face is that of an angel. His cheeks are flushed a pretty pink, matching his plump lips. Freckles are scattered across his cheeks and button nose.

“No, it’s my fault, I’m sorry,” Anthony blabbers, handing his empty glass to a random guest next to him. The omega tries to adjust his stained frills, but to no avail.

“Here, would you want to come upstairs with me? I have clothes you can change in to,” Anthony offers, gently taking the boy’s soft hand in his. He flushes, dipping his head bashfully.

“O-Okay, Your Grace.”

Anthony smiles and pulls the younger man through the throng of people and into the nearby living room. It’s quieter in the blue painted room.

“We’ll take the back staircase, dear.” The king tells the omega. “What is your name?”

“Peter, Peter Parker, sir.” He replies, following Anthony through the hallway and to the second staircase.

“A beautiful name,” The alpha quips. With a jolt of embarrassment he realized he’s still holding Peter’s hand. He drops it quickly, grabbing onto the railing instead.

“Thank you, your majesty. My mother named me after Saint Peter.” The omega says softly, trailing the king into his private quarters. Anthony hums in response, opening the large, double doors to his bedroom.

“Have a seat, Peter.” The alpha orders, gesturing to the a plush loveseat at the foot of his bed. The omega obeys, sitting on the edge of the red fabric. Anthony turns to his large wooden wardrobe, the doors creaking as he opens it. He grabs a silky, white tunic and turns back to the boy.

“The bathroom is there.” Anthony informs him, pointing to the small door on the opposite wall. Peter stands, clutching onto the white silk. He obediently scurries into the en-suite, closing the door and changing quickly. Anthony stands patiently, waiting for the omega to exit the bathroom.

“Goodness, King Anthony, I cannot thank you enough.” Peter blabbers, padding out of the bathroom. The shirt engulfs his tiny frame, the fabric slipping down his shoulder and exposing the milky skin underneath. A new feeling of possessiveness seeps through the alpha’s body, making him growl softly. A dusty blush blooms on Peter’s round cheeks and he whines softly.

“Come here, dear.” Anthony says gently, sitting down on the loveseat. The omega walks over to him, letting the older man pull the other onto his lap. He smells divine, like honey and vanilla. Peter lets himself melt into Anthony’s touch.

“What do you do for a living, sweetheart?” The king asks, brushing a stray chestnut curl out of Peter’s eyes.

“I teach at the Academy for Noble Omegas,” He says softly, pushing his glasses up his nose. Anthony widens his eyes in surprise.

“Professor Parker,” He hums, gently squeezing the omega’s clothed thigh. Peter blushes a deeper red and looks away bashfully. Anthony can smell their pheromones mixing in the air, intertwining in a way that makes his head fuzzy. Peter presses his face against the king’s neck, breathing in deeply. Anthony caresses the small of the omega’s back.

“What do you teach?” He asks, one hand coming up to fluff the mop of curls on top of Peter’s head.

“Physics and chemistry,” He responds with a sigh, body going slack at the touch of the alpha.

“Smart boy,” Anthony groans, tilting Peter’s head to the side. The king leans in a presses his lips to the omega’s plump ones. The younger purrs happily, a rumble low in his chest. They kiss until both their lips turn red and swollen.

“We should get back to the party,” Peter says softly, lips shining with spit.

“They won’t even notice I’m gone.”

Peter squeals as Anthony scoops him up and drops him on the bed.

***

The sunlight streaming through the window wakes him up.

Anthony groans softly, rubbing the sleep from his chocolate eyes. His legs are still wrapped around Peter’s thick thighs, the omega still fast asleep. He looks beautiful, the golden sunlight illuminating his sleeping figure. Anthony can’t help but trail his fingers over the boy’s warm skin, dancing over the bite marks and scratches. He gently touches the skin around the omega’s healing mating bite.

“Hmph,” Peter groans, sleepily swatting away Anthony’s hand. The alpha chuckles, pulling Peter into his arms.

“Good morning, omega,” He says quietly, kissing his soft cheek. Peter keens at the name, hiding his face in the silk pillow.

Anthony is about to kiss his mate, but the doors to his room swing open and hit the wall violently.

“Anthony Edward Stark!”

Both Anthony and Peter sit up in shock, the omega snuggling into the alpha’s bare side. A very angry Virginia stands in the doorway, arms crossed.

“You just left the party! What were you thinking!”

The other alpha’s anger makes Anthony bare his teeth, growling in warning. Virginia spots the omega cowering next to him, and promptly turns away.

“Alpha,” Peter moans when the door slams shut, rutting his half-hard cock against Anthony’s thigh. The king happily attacks Peter’s lips with his, and yeah-

“Hey, baby,” he greeted softly, pulling Peter closer with the arm around his body. There’s a brief press of lips against his forehead, then there’s a hand cupping the back of his neck. “It was a nice surprise to have you in my bed again when I woke up.” In his chest, Peter’s heart aches, and he pulls himself up enough to press his lips firmly against Tony’s, both hands coming up to grab onto Tony’s face, mindful of the bandage over the burns off to the side. 

“I love you,” Peter breathed the moment they pulled back, ignoring everyone else in the room in favor of his boyfriend. “I love you so much. I’m so happy you’re here.” The smile that Tony had been fighting broke out onto his face, making Peter’s heart skip a beat. 

“I love you, too. More than anything.” 

“If the doctor didn’t explicitly say no sexual activities, I’d tell you two to get a room,” Rhodey snickers from the bedside, a fond smile betraying his words. Peter’s cheeks heat briefly, but he just presses himself into Tony’s neck. “Anyway, now that you’re awake and got to see everyone, we should all probably get out and let the doctor come check you out. Make sure you’ve still got all the brains up there.” 

He taps gently at Tony’s forehead, earning a snort from the man and Peter’s pretty sure he’d get a swat on the arm if he had an arm on that side. The Avengers begin to file out of the room, and aunt May, who was there more for Peter than Tony, patted her nephews leg. “Come on, buddy, let’s go. Give the doctor and Tony some room.” 

The thought of crawling out of the bed and leaving Tony’s side has him whimpering, his hands grasping tighter to Tony’s hospital gown. “No,” he protests, curling up tighter against the other man. As if Tony is having the same thoughts, he pets down Peter’s spine with gentle fingers. 

“Don’t worry, he’s fine right where he is. Not bothering anyone,” Tony assures, shooting May a smile that must be convincing because she leaves without further complaint. When they’re left together in the room, Tony nuzzles his face into Peter’s curls, letting the silence linger before he breaks it. “Not too fond of leaving my side, hm?” Peter briefly feels ashamed of himself, but Tony continues before the feeling sinks too far. “Don’t worry, I’m feeling quite the same. Can’t imagine having you too far from me.” 

“I’m having a hard time believing that five years passed while I was in that stone. Especially when this still feels right.” Peter’s fingers trace over the lines on the hospital gown, keeping his eyes down. “When I came back, I was a little worried that maybe you had moved on, especially when Doctor Strange told me it had been five years. All I could think about was getting to you, to see you again, even if you were over me.” 

When he does finally bring his eyes up to Tony’s, the other man’s are misty and a little heartbroken. “As if I could ever get over you,” Tony scoffs, pressing a hard kiss to Peter’s forehead. “You’re all I could think about. Hell, I figured out time travel for you. You mean everything to me.” 

Peter lets out a breath, tears bubbling behind his eyes. He knew based on the other Avengers that Tony’s love for him hadn’t dwindled, but to hear it coming from the source eased the ache in his chest. For the first time since he came back, he felt like he could breathe. 

“I love you so much,” he whispered, leaning up to let his lips press back against his boyfriend’s, cupping his face again tenderly. 

“And I love you so much.” 

The moment was ruined when the door opened, and a nurse stepped in. To her credit, she was looking down at her clipboard and not at the two of them. But when she came to the bedside, she offered Tony a pleasant smile. 

“Mr. Stark,” she greeted, then turned her attention to Peter. “Hey, sweetie, could I ask you to get off the bed? Just for a few minutes while I check him over.” 

Peter’s already shaking his head before she can finish speaking, the thought of being even an inch apart from Tony sending ice through his veins. Luckily, Tony answers for him, insisting that he can be examined just the way he is. 

Reluctantly, the nurse begins her check up, starting with his head. Peter watches patiently, a little anxious to hear from the doctor that his boyfriend is doing good. As if sensing the fear, Tony turns his attention to Peter, squeezing him gently. “So, looks like I’m going to be in need of a new arm, huh?” Peter gives him a forced smile and nods his head. “Y’know, it’s a good thing I know exactly how to make things like that. Shouldn’t have any trouble making myself one.” 

Peter breathes just a little easier when Tony distracts him, letting his body melt into Tony’s side. “Yeah? Is there any room for me in that lab with you?”