TheStarkerIsObvious

Have I got good news for me.

That Quentin-Peter-Tony bit I found? It's three chapters now. I'll be posting it on Ao3 sometimes this week.

I just now caught my Freudian slip.

Epidote Manifestation • Abundance • Healing

on a lovely summer night (only 84 degrees, but no humidity, it's lovely) in the darkness writing my Hawt Fic. Juggling stories, passing from one to the other... Jealousy, Spiderio Threesomes, Inappropriate Use Of Stark Tech, whatever is easier to write at that exact moment. Listening to what might be dogs, but might be coyotes in the distance.

If anyone is interested, Jealousy is already up on Ao3, at least part of it. IT IS SHORT but I think you will like it.

on a lovely summer night (only 84 degrees, but no humidity, it's lovely) in the darkness writing my Hawt Fic. Juggling stories, passing from one to the other... Jealousy, Spiderio Threesomes, Inappropriate Use Of Stark Tech, whatever is easier to write at that exact moment. Listening to what might be dogs, but might be coyotes in the distance.

If anyone is interested, Jealousy is already up on Ao3, at least part of it. IT IS SHORT but I think you will like it.

Emerald Love • Wisdom • Harmony

Dravite Grounding • Healing • Self Awareness

Chiastolite Protection • Harmony • Grounding

My Tony/Peter/Quentin sandwitch.

Found in the unplumbed depths of the WIPS left behind by myself and @von--gelmini.

Which I ONLY FOUND because I was writing SOMETHING ELSE for @quartzquake and @jakegyllenhaalscharacters, so PLEASE lay the blame on them.

Tony is Ironman. Quentin is his friend/employee/co creator of a new medical tech that allows a patient to manipulate with technology the painful memories that need to be processed. Peter, aka Spiderman, has met with Tony on many occasions to work in the lab on his suit.

Tonight, the three will wind up in the lab together.

The results will be surprising.

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

There were so many voices in the penthouse it could have been a party, but it was only Quentin, Tony, and Peter. And FRIDAY, of course, obediently reading off numbers when ordered to. There was talking a-mile-a-minute and laughing and shouting and sometimes even fighting (usually Quentin and Tony, with Peter in the middle saying ‘but guys…but guys... but guys…’ For hours they worked on the memory recreation device nonstop without a glitch. Calling out plans and tweaking them in the right direction before they even hit the holotable. Finishing each other’s sentences. Laughing at absurd science jokes. Cracking themselves up making new and worse acronyms for Quentin’s project’s name

Should it be called the HMED? (hippocampus memory externalization device) or the T-MED (traumatic memory externalization device) or the MERF (memory externalization retro-framing) or BARF (binarily augmented retro-framing.) Finally Quentin suggested FUCC (frame underwriting chaos-causer.)  Peter was laughing so hard there were tears in his eyes. And all the time FRIDAY continued to obey her last order and read out the data. They were having so much fun an outside observer might have mistaken it for a party, instead of three nerds nerding.

In retrospect, they probably didn’t need the alcohol.

But the alcohol was there.  It was because Tony had just finished Iron Man-ing, Peter explained to Quentin later.  That’s why Quentin had found himself alone in the lab for a few hours before Peter arrived by elevator (he had cab trouble, he claimed) to announce that the Avengers had assembled last-minute and Tony would be late.  Late, maybe never.  Avengers’ business was notoriously unpredictable.

But Peter and Quentin didn’t have much time to talk before Tony  actually landed on the suitpad.  He entered the penthouse in a rush, clearly high on adrenaline.  Also in need of medical treatment.  Peter scolded, taking in Tony’s battered face, but Tony was far too eager to add his latest epiphany to the blueprint for the HMED (or the MERF or the BARF.)  Peter practically chased him around the lab with the first-aid kit as he and Quentin talked over each other, trying to make his idea work.  Now, hours later, they were passing around beers (except for Tony, who was working on the scotch) and laughing like men who were… well… enjoying themselves immensely in the middle of the night.  All to the tune of FRIDAY obediently reading out the data.

The glitch did come, as it always came. 

But the glitch did come, as it always came. Tony and Quentin started arguing again and then Tony broke out more scotch. Tony left the lab and came back with an open bottle of wine to toast the death of the MERF and finally Quentin stormed out to sit on Tony’s sofa and look out the massive window at the New York skyline.

When Peter joined him he put down his glass of scotch, claiming he wasn’t angry, just stopping to rest his eyes. It was two in the morning, after all. Peter was there for the same reason, claiming his eyes were no longer obeying his orders to focus on the fine work on the retro-framing. He was so tired he stumbled against the coffee table, knocking over empty beer bottles (when had they consumed that much beer?) and stumbled down into Quentin’s arms.

He laid his head against Quentin’s shoulder and apologized for Tony’s temper.   

Quentin stretched an arm across the back of the sofa and pulled Peter’s head close to his own.

“Oh Peter, we’ve been doing this dance since before you hit middle school.  I know Tony. I’ve fought him, I’ve fed him, I’ve fucked him. You don’t have to explain him to me. You know that little code you two have, that verbal shorthand, that you have for your biochemical bandage project? Just consider all that swearing and name-calling as our code for our project. Don’t worry about it.”

“Sorry, I guess I didn’t realize ...you two were… dating…”

“Not ‘dating’ exactly.  Just friends with benefits.  Trust me…”  he turned his face, just inches from Peter’s, away before he yawned.  “...this is not the first night we’ve worked until 2 in the morning and spent the night here.  But it’s getting better, believe me.  You’re good for it.  You’re good for us.”

For several minutes they shared a whispered conversation, comparing Tony’s working styles and argument stiles (and strategies for dealing with both) until Peter found himself dozing off. Soon he was asleep.

Tony wasn’t drunk, but he was beginning to drift. He sat on his end of the sofa and tried to get comfortable. His comfortable position wound up being stretched out, leaning, half laying, over Peter’s side.

Peter woke hours later, snuggled into a sleeping Quentin’s embrace. He had fallen asleep against Quentin’s left shoulder, and Quentin had turned at some point and wrapped Peter up in his arms. It seemed someone had laid a heavy, warm blanket on Peter’s left side, and at the moment he was pleasantly warm and snuggled in.

He let his eyes focus on Quentin’s sleeping face and, for a few quiet moments, enjoyed the view.

Then he heard a soft moan and realized that the heavy, warm blanket was a sleeping Tony Stark.

Peter looked around the grey room in confusion. The dark penthouse was lit from the lights of the city, enough for Peter to see the table in front of him, covered more bottles and glasses than he remembered...had the two men sat here drinking after he had fallen asleep?  He only knew Tony’s face was inches away from his own, and if he turned around in Quentin’s arms…

He moved very slowly, very gracefully, in Quentin’s arms until he was facing the sleeping man (whose arm seemed to be draped around his waist? Was this really happening?) This was a dream come true.  Peter nuzzled his face against the bearded chin.

And Tony, ah god yes, Tony was nuzzled back.

Tony kissed Peter’s cheek, then his temple. He reached up to stroke Peter’s face and pressed his lips into hair and then, very quietly, pulled Peter out of Quentin’s arms and into his.  

Peter soon found his back pressed to Tony’s chest, Tony whispering questions to him in a gentle voice, kissing the side of his face over and over. Peter reached his hand around to touch Tony’s face...trying to turn around enough for a kiss, when Tony pulled the blanket over them both.  Peter turned his face toward Tony as best he could, found his mouth inches from Tony’s own, when he heard a muffled noise from the other side and found Quentin looking for him sleepily.

“How much did you two have to drink after I fell asleep?” Peter joked as Quentin moved his body over a few inches to where Peter lay against Tony’s chest.  Quentin was grinning now, eyes growing sly, reaching out to cup the back of Tony’s head with one hand and caress the center of Peter’s chest with the other.  He laid his head on Peter’s shoulder and kissed it through his shirt.

Tony made a little shrug. “More than some nights, less than others.” He shifted in his seat, bringing himself more directly beneath Peter. If he couldn’t be the only one on top of Peter, he would be the only one beneath.

“And is… this how these nights usually end?  How many nights have you been struggling with MERF?”

“You mean with BARF?” Quentin joked, moving even closer.  The hand he had been caressing Tony’s head with was now caressing Peter’s head, while his other hand slipped under the blanket to caress Peter’s knee, then slipped up to his inner thigh.  He kissed Peter’s shoulder again, teasing a little with his teeth.

“God… months? Two of them at least. Four?” Tony guessed. “Four from the first time I asked Quen about the possibility of tapping into the hippocampus. Some notes I found in Killian’s things. Undeveloped because they couldn’t be weaponized. It was for military PTSD. Healing memories through retro-framing. Two since I told him why I was interested,” he added, hesitantly.

Peter looked at the assortment of bottles and glasses on the table.  Suddenly, his mind stuttered.

The MERF, it was all about helping the traumatized deal with their memories.  Tony was the traumatized.  All these experiments would be on him.   Dear god — did Tony need to drink to deal with what the project was for?  Is that why Peter was currently being held by one drunk man while the other drunk man was…

“But it’s going so much better, now, I promise, despite all… this…” Quentin said, using his free hand, the one not caressing Peter’s head, to wave at the open liquor bottles with the other, all the while nuzzling Peter’s shoulder, biting him more urgently.

“You’re great in there, Pete,” Tony murmured in a bedroom voice that sent gooseflesh down both arms.  “Quen and I ge too… wedded to certain theories. Then we become…” Tony shrugged again.  “Well, you saw.  I don’t play well with others.” 

Peter tried to argue, turning his face toward Tony again and cupping his face with one hand (his other hand was on top of Quentin’s hand, trying to discourage him from moving up any higher on his inner thigh ) but Quentin was talking over him.  “You’re just working yourself too hard, Anth, you just need to take a break.  And we have Peter now, “ he said, pulling his hand out from under from Peter’s hand and putting it right in the center of Peter’s chest.

“Look at this,” Quentin said with a tipsy grin, indicating his hand.  “Look at it!  It’s the perfect combination…” He pressed his hand against Peter’s chest, which pushed him closer into Tony’s embrace, all while keeping his other hand on the back of Tony’s head.

“Peter and I have always worked well in the lab together. A long time now. We just needed a catalyst,” Tony said smiling. “Isn’t that right chemistry boy?” He put another light kiss on Peter’s hair. The flat of Tony’s palm was now on Peter’s chest too, lower than Quentin’s.  And now it was slipping lower, settling over his stomach. And even lower. Stopping just below his navel.

Peter’s eyes fluttered shut. He had one hand on Tony’s face.  He reached out the other and held Quentin’s.  For a moment his eyes took in the littered coffee table in front of them.  “I didn’t realize this was part of the process…” he said out loud. 

“It’s been known to help,” Tony said, taking Peter’s wrist in his and raising his hand to his lips, kissing his palm. 

“Well, if this is how the science gets done… and the science is going to help people...”

He leaned back into Tony’s embrace and looked directly into Quentin’s eyes.