#hey siri play Black Eye on repeat for forever

[hoeforcheol]

ALL HAIL EMO BOYFRIEND VERNON 🖤⛓️🥀🧎🏽

[ohwereusingourmadeupnames]

Do You Even Think About It? 

Pairing: Peter Parker/Tony Stark Rating: Mature (M) Word Count: ~8.8K Notes: Sam Smith is an absolute angel and I’ve been obsessively listening to their new album Love Goes. One of my favorites on the record is Kids Again, so I gave myself the opportunity to listen to it over and over again by writing a fic based on it. This is the product.  Warnings: There be angst ahead. Summary: 

Peter needs a job to help pay for graduate school, so MJ hooks him up at the breakfast for dinner restaurant she works at, Stevie's. It's not his dream job, but he likes the atmosphere and the cute sous chef who's chalk full of advice.

6 years later, Peter's mind is stuck on the young love he let go and the man who changed his world.

Or: A Starker love story told in flashback and set to a Sam Smith song.

Read on AO3 here.

November 2nd, 2020

Peter should’ve known the day would be an odd one when he heard Beyoncé’s Mine to start the day. Though his mind took many detours to the thought of Tony Stark, tangible things like their song made his heart ache just a little bit more than usual. It’d been years since he heard from him, and even after all that time, he still missed him – more than he usually cared to admit. Like it was six years prior, Peter sung along to the lyrics, the ghost of youth and Tony’s touch wrapping him up and surrounding him, dragging him under the weight of precious memories.

With Tony now on the forefront of his mind, Peter mindlessly went through his getting ready routine. His school had a pretty lenient dress code, so he slipped into straight-legged black trousers and a white button down, maroon cardigan combo. Topping off the outfit with all black Chuck Taylor’s, Peter made his way out to his kitchen to heat up the water for the French press that sat in a place of honor on the counter. Another Tony Stark influence, Peter realized as he portioned off his coffee serving and pressed down the pump, the delectable smell of freshly brewing caffeine bringing a soft smile to his face.

He didn’t do anything adventurous until he met Tony all those years ago – let alone make his coffee in a fancy French press. Tony’s love of food and fancy utensils to create and serve it rubbed off on him in a lot of ways, his brown eye’s catching the well-maintained cast-iron skillet sitting on the back burner of his stove. Sucking in a deep breath, Peter forced himself to see the remnants of Tony littered around his place. They lived so much life together in those short years together. It wasn’t surprising, now that he let himself think about it, how much Tony stilled ruled so many things about his life.

They changed the world together – Peter’s world specifically. It itched, how much he yearned to be that kid again; youth brought him happiness – the understanding of that now several years too late.

Forcing himself to get his shit together, Peter gathered his messenger bag and the lunch he packed the previous night before heading out of the house. He caught up on grading over the weekend, so a later than usual arrival wouldn’t be too debilitating. His mind was so caught up on other things, he marveled at the fact that he managed to get out the door at all. Sometimes, the feeling was so consuming – sometimes, he pushed through it and coped with their song on repeat his entire drive into work.

The day went by pretty easily, for the most part. Teaching advanced physics to high school aged students wasn’t too colossal of a task – he’d been working in the same classroom for the last six years; he could probably do half of his lesson plans with his hands tied behind his back. A majority of his students were those most would deem brainy, so there wasn’t much ruckus to deal with or discipline to dish out. Instead, he let his mind stray to Tony’s dark hair and the tan of his skin after a day spent down by the ocean. He stayed in the game just long enough to get through the day – then, Peter let his thoughts run away from him.

Before he knew it, he was behind the wheel of his car heading towards the east side of the city. Tony hadn’t lived there in years, but Peter did his best to avoid it, anyway. The corners of his mind that Tony occupied seemed like enough space to give him – visiting their old haunts felt like a step too far. Until now of course, his car idled by the all too familiar sidewalk, the blue door of Tony’s home still as bright as it looked back then. Whoever took over the lease there kept it up – they would’ve been insane not to after all of the work Tony put into it.

A weird yearning sat in the pit of his stomach. As a good looking soon to be 30-year-old, it should’ve been insane to be this wrapped up in the past and all the delectable memories it held. He wasn’t social awkward and had a good head on his shoulders – there’d been many men that tried to steal his attention, even. Yet, Peter invited the presence of those memories, instead. For every not so good thing that happened, there were 20 great adventures that took its place. Despite years of distance, Peter missed Tony – missed him and the person he let himself become under the radiant affection and liveliness that Tony brought to his life.

Peter tried not to think about the prospect of turning back time, but as he sat in front of Tony’s old place, he wished for just a few minutes of those old times – some of the best days of his life. What he wouldn’t give to be a kid again, sitting in the shining sun with the most radiant man he’d ever met, even now – even years later, Tony held that title so tightly, there wasn’t room for anyone else.

Shaking his head, Peter gave the blue door a longing look – if he didn’t force himself to leave in that moment, the strength would never come. His fingers gripped the wheel tightly, the tires grinding against the curb ever so slightly. He laughed at himself, the consistency of his driving habits making his chest feel warm. Even after all those years, he still misjudged the width of the curb. The thought gripped his heart tightly – there were so many things that hadn’t changed and so many things he wished didn’t all that time ago.

In his melancholy, Peter didn’t notice the front curtain twitch, or see the door open – a slightly older Tony Stark stepping out of it with confusion written all over his face.

The ride home consisted of a few tears and the stereo of his car scratching ever so slightly with the loud volume of the song he’d been listening to non-stop all day long. Peter stopped to grab a sub from his favorite pagoda in hopes of making himself feel better, then finished the trek back to his lonely apartment – the folding of his laundry the only thing for him to look forward to when he got there.

He got one of his feet out of the car before the vibration of his phone in the cupholder stopped him. Not recognizing the number off the bat, Peter let it ring, the buzz of it against his thigh as he slipped it into his pocket. Not thinking much about it, Peter got up into his apartment, dropping his sub and keys on the counter without much thought. Then, his phone vibrated again, this time, the three-pulse rhythm told him that whoever just called left him a voicemail.

Intrigued, Peter fished the phone from his pocket, his eyes bulging when he saw Siri’s suggestion of who it was (MAYBE: Tony Stark). Taking in a deep breath, Peter set the phone down, then immediately picked it back up – his brain was running haywire and standard operating procedures were not functioning at their usual capacity.

It was almost like the universe heard his call, or understood the pain he’d been in. Why, after 6 years of no talking, texting, or communication at all, did Tony reach out now? And if he listened to the message, what would come of it? Did he really have the strength to do the right thing here? Or the wrong thing for that matter?

Almost like he was working on autopilot, Peter let his thumb navigate the phone until he was a second away from listening to Tony’s voice for the first time in what felt like forever. Anticipation raced through him, his skin tingling with nerves and excitement that he couldn’t quite tamper down. Tony Stark, after so much time. Grinning, Peter let the rest of his resolve crumble, his finger pressing the play button before he could think too hard about the whole thing.

Hey Pete,

At least, I hope this is still Peter Parker’s number. I remember you saying you hadn’t changed your number since you were a teenager and am banking on that fact. I could’ve sworn I saw your old Honda out in front of the old apartment today. I’m back in New York, for good this time, and wanted to see you. I couldn’t get out of the house fast enough to stop you, but I thought I’d reach out. I’ve missed you.

Anyway – call me back. This is my new number, so you know where to reach me.

Peter spent the next five minutes listening to the message over and over again – the cadence of his voice hadn’t changed a single bit and the slightest hint of affection that sat there was unmistakable. Tony made it seem like no time at all had passed, like it was normal to call an ex up out of the blue, like it wouldn’t change Peter’s world to hear that he missed him – that after 6 years, Peter was still on Tony’s mind.

Clutching the phone to his chest, Peter took a few long deep breaths before making a decision. His mind would never leave him alone if he didn’t take the steps laid out in front of him – if he didn’t hit the call button and see where a conversation with the love of his life could take him.

There was a slight pause before the phone rang, then a click of the call being answered on the other side of the phone. Peter waited with bated breath as Tony settled onto the other side of the line, his inhale before saying anything more than enough for Peter to spring forward into the abyss.

“Hey, Tony – “

August 2012

Walking into Stevie’s, Peter didn’t know what to expect. Being a small-town kid, the big city still seemed impenetrable, despite living there for the entirety of his college education. Though, thinking about it, he supposed that he stayed in a pretty narrow bubble during his time in school. Getting into the master’s program, Peter knew he not only needed to branch out a bit more, but also needed to make some spare change to help pay for the next two years of classes.

Which is how he found himself standing outside the small restaurant, his first shift set to start in 10 minutes. With his apron in hand, Peter took a deep breath and pulled open the door. The smell of cinnamon and something on the savory side hit his nose as he stepped inside, his chest already loosening. Comforting scents always brought down his defenses – the 20 candles that riddled his little apartment spoke to that very fact. He liked to be wrapped up in familiar things, smells included.

Taking a few more steps into the restaurant, Peter brightened up even further when he saw MJ approaching him. They met during freshman philosophy, the two of them making fun of the professor before even exchanging names. With that sort of chemistry, their struck-up friendship didn’t surprise anyone. Her decision to stay in the city and continue her education played a huge part in Peter’s plans – Nebraska wasn’t calling him home, or anything, but he didn’t want to be lonely in the city – he got his fill of that feeling during the first few months of adjustment when he first arrived.

MJ getting the waitress job couldn’t have happened at a better time, either. Though he was smart (smart enough to graduate with a double major), scholarships were few and far between, so only half of his education was getting paid for by the school. Unlike his undergraduate experience, Peter knew he needed to work, both to make money and gain experience. Stevie’s wasn’t the classroom that he belonged in, but it was a step in the right direction.

“Peter Parker – am I glad to see you,” MJ said in the way of greeting, her cheeks pulling up in a slight smile. She was a tough, sort of grungy girl, but her affection for Peter shaded her actions towards him, giving her a softer edge where Peter was concerned. She wrapped an arm around his shoulders and turned him towards what could only be the employee break room. “It’s kind of slow tonight, so you’ll have lots of time and space to learn everything you need to know.”

The slightest feeling of relief washed over him when they busted through the doors and only a couple of people were scattered around the room. On any part of the weekend, Stevie’s had a line out the door. There weren’t many breakfast for dinner joints in the city and the unique combination of sweet and savory of their menu brought people from all over the city to their little corner. Before applying, Peter battled with the anxiety of being around that many people – but the good money and ability to work with MJ overran the negative feelings he almost allowed himself to manifest.

After being introduced to the few people sitting around the break room, Peter clocked in and donned the traditional black apron that all of the servers were sporting. MJ took him around, showed him how the computer system worked, and let him shadow her during a couple of orders. When things started to pick up, she sent him off on his own – she had the utmost confidence in him and told him so many times throughout his brief training. He could handle thermodynamics like it was elementary math – serving people had to be a breeze.

Quickly, Peter realized that being a waiter took a lot more skills than he initially thought. Though the computer system was easy enough to navigate, remembering what went where and who ordered what took a few tables to get used to. He played musical plates a few times before getting the hang of labeling the people at the table and putting their order by said label. By the time Peter got within an hour of his shift being over, he finally felt like he could handle himself.

While in-between tables, MJ flagged him down – her hair was a mess and there were more than a few spills on her apron. “I’m swamped with this huge party that just sat down.” She looked over at the large table, her eyes focusing in on the unruly children climbing all over the chairs. “Could you take my other table? Their food should be up soon – it shouldn’t be too much work.” Without waiting for an answer, MJ turned back to the big party, her shoulders set in what Peter knew to be her determined stance.

Using the table planogram, Peter got the table number before heading to the kitchen to grab their food – their ticket number had just popped up on the screen outside of the window. Looking over the order one more time, Peter was surprised to see a tan hand reach out to tap his fingers that were just about to wrap around the edge of the first plate. “That’s a hot plate. You’ll want to cover your hand before you pick it up.”

Somewhat shocked at the timbre of the voice talking to him, Peter took a step back from the window, his hands flying up in surrender, like he’d actually touched fire, or something. Looking up, Peter forced himself to catch his breath. The older sous chef that stood in that spot for most of his shift was gone, only to be replaced with the most gorgeous human Peter could remember seeing. His lips were framed with a gorgeous, and well kept, goatee. Honey-golden eyes watched him with intrigue, and when their eyes met, Peter got to see the most glorious smile.

A soft blush overtook his face – Peter did his best to hide the rush of it and the smile that accompanied it. Ducking his head, Peter bit into his lip, his brain desperately trying to cling to whatever words he could remember in the heart racing moment. “Uh – thanks! I’m new, so I probably would’ve burnt off my skin if you didn’t step in.”

He ached to hold his hand out between them, to see if his skin was as warm as his eyes were. Yet, he understood how much he already made a fool of himself – Peter kept his hands down by his side with a sort of resolve that shouldn’t be necessary in a situation like this.

That rich voice sounded again, this time directed solely at Peter – the man’s attention on him explicitly. “I figured as much. I’m Tony – one of the sous chefs around here. You’ll learn pretty quickly what you can and can’t pick up. Just don’t drop shit and you’ll be okay.” His words were brief and somewhat cut off, but his eyes never left Peter’s – they seemed to burn into him with every second that passed.

“Good to know. Thanks again, Tony.”

Peter used the cloth napkin he tied to his apron earlier to grab the plate – the heat barely there through the fabric. He grabbed the other plate with his free hand and was about to turn away from the kitchen when Tony spoke again.

“What’s your name, new kid?” His eyebrows were raised when Peter turned to look at him, a smirk on his face.

“I’m Peter. Peter Parker.”

Beaming, Peter turned away, his cheeks burning from excitement and a rush of heat that his short conversation with Tony brought about. He sucked in a couple of long breaths before approaching his new table, his smile now back to its normal range.

The rest of the night flew by, Peter getting lost in the last couple of tables that came in before closing time. Though, none of them ordered any food, so he didn’t have an excuse to head back to the kitchen. Despite that, Peter found himself turning towards the window he knew Tony would be standing behind, their eyes meeting every now and again. He counted himself lucky in those moments – for a few seconds, those golden eyes were stuck on him, looking at him.

After getting closed out for the night, Peter pocketed his tips, shed his apron, and stood outside the employee entrance for a few minutes, just soaking it all in. It wasn’t exactly what he wanted to be doing, but his time spent at Stevie’s would bring him one step closer to his ultimate goal, so it wouldn’t be too terrible. He made it out of the first day alive and even managed to impress both MJ and his boss. Sighing, Peter let his back rest against the wall, his tired eyes closing.

A heavy creek and the door opening brought him out of his silent reverie – he couldn’t recall how long he’d been standing there by the time he looked up. Much to his surprise, Mr. Brown Eyes himself stepped out, his long legs encased with a dark denim, his upper body still covered by the chef whites he’d been sporting earlier.

“Looks like you made it through the first night,” Tony said as nimble fingers worked at the buttons first at his collar, then down the length of his jacket. When the sides were pulled apart, Peter caught sight of a navy-blue V-neck shirt, the gap of it showing off just the right amount of dark chest hair to keep Peter’s eyes transfixed there. His breathing picked up, the same rush of heat from earlier trying to overtake him again.

“It wasn’t so bad. It seems like people are actually interested in the food we serve here, so they don’t really give much of a shit about me. As long as I don’t drop shit, I’m good.” Peter shot Tony a smile, the man’s own words sitting in the air between them. The tension in the air made his heart slam against his chest, Peter feeling slightly lightheaded in those seconds between speaking and Tony answering.

Instead of words, Peter was met with a solid laugh, the sound coming from Tony’s stomach and out of his mouth likely before he could stop it from happening. Peter watched a subtle blush bloom on Tony’s cheeks, his stubble not doing much in the way of hiding the red hue. If he wasn’t fucked before, he sure as hell was now.

“You’re a fast learner, aren’t you? I like that about you, Peter Parker.” Tony snuffed the toe of his shoe against the ground before looking up again, his eyes shining. “Want to grab a drink?”

November 3rd, 2020

Instead of the dreamy haze from the day before, Peter spent most of his day riddled with stomach-churning nerves. It seemed like a good idea, when Tony’s voice was in his ear and his presence could be felt, to meet up for coffee at their old haunt. After a day of thinking about Tony non-stop, Peter could do nothing but accept the invitation. It’d been years since he stepped foot in Stevie’s – if nothing else, the nostalgia of the trip would be worth it. Yet, Peter couldn’t stop himself from hoping – what he was hoping for, he wasn’t sure, but hope sat in the pit of his stomach, nonetheless. It made the time drag on, his lessons for once not up to his usual standards.

It must’ve been that type of day for everyone, because no one questioned or even batted an eye at his abnormal behavior. His students were a couple of weeks from Thanksgiving vacation and the will to pay attention was lacking in pretty much everyone. Grateful for that fact, Peter snuck out a few minutes before the end of the day bell. His planning for the next day was completed and there wasn’t anything else to hold his attention – he hoped no one noticed his early departure.

Though, the second he walked out of school, he was instantly at a loss. They weren’t meeting until after Tony’s shift (which just so happened to be at his very own restaurant, Peter Googled it earlier that morning). That meant he had more than an hour to kill and not a lot to distract him from what felt like a momentous meeting. There were so many things left unsaid between the two of them, so many memories that were so prominent – it was hard to separate the good from the bad – the forgettable, and those he didn’t ever want to forget.

For his own sanity, Peter put what happened between them before Tony left at the back of his mind. In the years since that day, Peter realized how childish his decision was – between not showing up and not thinking things through, there wasn’t much room for any other conclusion. The conscious thought of that didn’t take away the heartache he felt, however – Peter figured they both would be feeling a lot of that throughout the conversation they were about to have.

Left with the decision between fretting and heading back to his place for a quick spruce up, Peter drove the few miles between the school and the apartment he called home. He spent a lot of time in front of the mirror earlier that morning but knew a glance or two in his closet wouldn’t hurt the situation. He stripped out of his button up shirt and ran a washcloth across the skin of his upper arms, down across his chest, and along the length of his neck – it’d been unseasonably hot in his classroom.

Satisfied with his cleanliness, Peter walked into his meager closet, most of the clothes hanging in it ones that he purchased many years ago – there were lots of things in his life that felt like they were on pause, his wardrobe included. Sifting through them, Peter found himself smiling when he flipped by the hunter green Henley he squared away more than six years ago. The vivid way the color made Tony’s eyes stand out made his heart race – Peter still thought about those bourbon beauties on a pretty frequent basis.

Trying not to think too much of it, Peter pulled the shirt down from its hanger. Though some time past, Peter could swear the smell of Tony’s cologne still clung to the fabric. No matter how many times he ran it through the wash, the ghost of his former lover stuck around – the shirt like a tangible personification of Peter’s feelings over the years. Slipping it on felt like coming home in a way none of the other items in his closet could ever make him feel. That singular thought spoke volumes – though, Peter went out of his way to ignore the obvious. It was easier like that.

Finally satisfied with both his outfit and the time in which he had left to get to Stevie’s, Peter took a couple of deep breaths and one more quick glance in the mirror before heading back out to his car. The nerves from earlier seemed to be leveling out now that he took the time to pump himself up (being wrapped up in Tony’s shirt didn’t hurt, either). He made it through six years by himself, without the company of Tony – he could make it six more and then six more after that if things didn’t turn out the way he wanted them to after this little meeting.

With that in mind, Peter tried to decide what he actually wanted from his time with Tony – after all of these years, it seemed silly to walk into anything without at least thinking it through. More than anything, he wanted to step back into Tony’s arms like no time at all past; if they could pretend that the six years didn’t exist between then and now, he’d be perfectly alright with that. No matter how good of an idea Peter thought his decision was all that time ago, he knew that Tony, after being without him, brought something to his life that no one else could – he desperately tried to find it, but couldn’t, no matter how much effort he put in. It seemed a little outlandish, to think that their first interaction would be that magical, but he couldn’t stop himself from hoping – Peter always tried to be optimistic when the situation called for it (and this one totally did).

Despite not having visited his old stomping grounds in years, Peter’s mind remembered the way like he still travelled there on a daily basis – like the route was engrained in his brain so deeply, he couldn’t ever forget. Which made sense, after a bit of thought – some of the best memories of his youth were based around his time at Stevie’s and the people he met there. If he let himself think about it too hard, a wave of sadness would hit him; that was the opposite effect he wanted from this interaction – he wanted this blast from the past to be a happy one.

The buffer of time he originally had dwindled down to nothing as he found a meter to park in front of and fed it a few quarters. His steps were impatient as he made his way back towards the white bricked building, the flashing sign still bright and alluring.

Each second he crept a little closer to the door, his hard beat harder and harder. With just a couple more strides left until he reached the entrance, Peter looked up and his breath caught – through the window he saw Tony Stark sitting in “their” booth, his hair a little longer and his goatee just a little bit more refined, big framed glasses sitting on his nose the only noticeably new addition.

It felt like getting knocked off his feet, seeing him again. Peter stopped, just for a second – he took a long gulp of oxygen before even thinking about opening the door. Like most memories, they all came flashing back – the place, the man, even the recognizable step he almost tripped on time and time again – each one a trigger for every precious second spent in this very place.

Before he could get swept away, Peter tightened his resolve and gripped the door handle.

September 2013 – October 2014

Though Peter was determined to make the most of the situation when he first started at Stevie’s, he quickly came to realize that everything he needed in that moment existed within the orbit of that café. The year he worked there so far, Peter made more friends, learned more about people, and met (who he hoped to be) the love of his life. Each piece of the tiny little puzzle of the Stevie’s community fit so well within his life that Peter couldn’t remember ever being happier than he was.

On top of the amazing job and the people surrounding it, Peter was quickly making his way through his master’s degree – he wanted to teach people the same way his professors were relaying information to him and was only a couple steps from doing exactly that. All of the fretting and worry from the start of his program dissipated after a booming fall semester that led straight into a scholarship to cover the remaining tuition problems. Now, he felt no pressure when he walked into Stevie’s – the job wasn’t a burden, but something he thoroughly enjoyed every time he walked through the door.

Of course, one of the main reasons his time within the walls of the all-day breakfast spot remained some of his favorites was the lovely man that so quickly swept him off his feet. After that first night where they talked about anything and everything tucked away in the corner of some no-name pub, he and Tony were pretty inseparable. For a while, he thought that he might exist in the friend-zone – and some of the pieces of him would’ve been okay with that. Yet, when his back hit the wall of the alleyway where everything started and Tony’s lips descended upon his own, Peter didn’t stop himself from feeling elated and relieved; there were so many wants and needs that included Tony not being “just” his friend.

Like most relationships do, the two of them settled into a comfortable sort of adventure that was both consistent and completely random at any given time. They worked the same shift, so it was easy for them to pick one of their apartments after work and head that way together. No matter where they were, Peter ended most of his days tangled up with the sheet stealer that Tony was. They didn’t need any awkward conversations to know that whatever time they could spend together, they were going to. In the most natural way, things fell into place and made Peter deliriously happy.

It seemed like nothing could touch them, either. Being so young and in love, Peter thought he finally found a place where he belonged. After so much time being the weird nerdy kid, or the new boy, Peter got to claim a spot in a pack – one that was handpicked and made so much sense – the group of them were almost too similar and too close to one another. Or so the people on the outside said, anyway.

When the changes did start to happen, Peter tried not to let them blindside him. It started out simply – Fred, their menacing head chef, quit after a particularly hard shift; two of the newer waiters were fired on the spot after dropping countless orders. He stormed out in a huff; his only words being thrown Tony’s way as he handed over the coveted black chef jacket Peter knew his boyfriend wanted more than pretty much anything else in the world. The adjustment seemed pretty flawless – Tony picked up a couple more hours here and there, but still managed to make the trek home with Peter every time they shared a shift.

Then, things started to pick up in the restaurant because of the exciting changes Tony made to the menu. Stevie’s went from being a place only packed on the weekends, to being packed at every major service time. They were so popular in their little corner of NYC that local news crews came around to do spots on the newest menu additions and the chef behind them. Those few extra hours Tony picked up turned into many more than a few. Being the loving and proud boyfriend that he was, Peter did his best to be supportive and not balk at their time together that seemed to dwindle more and more as the days past.

Luckily, Peter found some reprieve from the nagging worry of his personal life during the last semester of his graduate program – his student teaching sent him into the wilderness of Midtown High, a school known for its advanced programs and science specification. At the beginning, it felt like a good coping mechanism – if he wasn’t at home waiting around, he didn’t have to feel the small slices of resentment starting to creep into the tiniest cracks in his heart. As things progressed, Peter caught the bug and decided that the childish things he wanted just months before were things of the past.

Despite this, Tony seemed to be just as committed to the them they created throughout their time together. In a lot of ways, both of their careers booming at the same time felt like a good thing. Both got to work where their hearts drew them, but at the end of the day, they came home to each other. From his actions, Peter knew that was enough for Tony. They weren’t staying up all night drinking and talking about whatever struck their fancy – but they were together, soaking up the joys of life with the one person that seemed to understand the drive and need for those successes and happiness.

Which is why, a couple of weeks after celebrating their two-year anniversary, Tony looked at him with the biggest smile on his face. In their time together, Peter learned the many facial expressions of his gorgeous other half. For someone so reserved with their emotions, Tony said a lot with the slightest twitch of the muscles in his face. It took Peter a second to steady himself – even after two years of being together, the genuine nature of the look still tried to knock him on his ass. Young love was sweet and soothing, but there was something to be said for the transition into something more concrete, more stable.

“That’s your excited smile. What’s up, Tones?” Peter questioned; his eyes wide with the residual excitement that seemed to be floating around the room. His chest felt a little tight with it, apprehension and secondhand adrenaline tapping against all of his major organs like shoes on hardwood.

“I got a call from Chef Barton – the world-renowned culinary instructor in Paris. He had a spot open up in his breakfast kitchen and wants me to take it.” Tony stopped then, taking an excited breath before continuing. “I want me to take it, too. And most importantly – I want you to come with me.”

His arms wrapped around Peter’s shoulders then, the grip tight, Tony’s affection only increasing with the amount of excitement running through his veins. Being tucked into Tony’s chest gave Peter the opportunity to say nothing, which is exactly what he did. Instead, he forced his arms to wrap around Tony’s hips in hopes of returning the hug with at least half of the fervor Tony used to hold him. Peter tried to melt into the embrace – but his mind was racing. Paris? Now – when he finally felt like he was making the right steps towards actually being an adult? It seemed childish to just pick everything up and run across the country, no matter how much he loved Tony and the direction they were heading.

Keeping all of those thoughts to himself, Peter kept living his life with Tony – only ever getting quiet when they started to talk about their future plans – ones that, if Tony had his way, included the two of them skipping across the country, hand-in-hand, towards the unknown. Not wanting to deal with it head on, Peter avoided the topic, and everything that went with it, like the plague. He knew Tony could feel the hesitancy, but he never brought it up, so Peter didn’t either. Why disturb the peace when he could just ignore everything that would totally obliterate it?

Peter kept that attitude until the day before they were set to leave. Still on the fence about his decision, he half-heartedly packed a bag. In the weeks leading up to their departure, Tony sent most of his own stuff ahead to the small apartment waiting for them to arrive. In his infernal need to give Peter his space and independence, Tony figured Peter would get what he needed there some way or another. It didn’t even cross his mind, Peter figured, the thought that he wouldn’t be coming with him. The lack of communication and unwillingness to step on the fine sheen of ice between them hindering any sort of progress, or reassurance that they both needed.

Like most of his life, Peter listened to his brain instead of his heart – instead of meeting Tony at the airport, he holed himself away in MJ’s apartment, despite her own qualms against it, which she voiced loudly for most of the night as his phone rang with calls, and then chimed with text after text.

It was several hours after Peter knew Tony would be in the air that he finally let himself look at all the text messages sent his way. They ranged from distraught to upset to infuriated, and then resolved. There were so many of them to sort through, but the last one was the one to really catch his eye.

Tony Stark [8/13/2014 9:53PM]: It’s okay, Pete. I get it. Just let me know that you’re alright.

According to the timestamp, Tony sent that last one a couple minutes after their flight was supposed to take off. While in the air, putting distance between them after being ruthlessly stood up, Tony was still genuinely worried about his well-being. Piles of regret deposited themselves on the expanse of his chest – the repercussions of his decision hitting him with a fervor Peter didn’t know existed. He claimed to love Tony with all of his heart but let something like fear and a lack of communication strip that all away from him. Whatever happened, he needed to own it and deal with the fall out.

Peter Parker [8/14/2014 2:00AM]: I’m sorry – I’m okay, but I just couldn’t.

Surprisingly, Peter wasn’t bombarded with calls or texts the next day, or even the next. He figured that Tony would be calling like crazy the second he touched down in Paris – yet, Peter didn’t hear a thing. After looking at his quiet phone with distaste for two full weeks, Peter pulled up Tony’s contact information with the intention of calling him, instead. His thumb hovered over the call button more than a few times over the following few days, but no matter how much he wanted to, Peter couldn’t bring himself to do it. Like ripping a band aid, maybe the breaking would be quickest with one tough yank. From the lack of calls his way, Tony must’ve figured the same thing.

Tinged with unexplainable pain, Peter made his way through the next few days, and then the next few weeks – before he knew it, it was October. He finished up his degree during the summer and once he managed to pick himself up off the floor, applied to several of the local high schools. In a strike of luck, Midtown was so stoked about his performance during his internship, they offered him a job outright – without an interview or anything of the sort. In the matter of what felt like a second, Peter went from a loved individual with a spice for life to a high school teacher, who’s only joys came in the form of a new flavored coffee in the teacher’s lounge.

It worked. It gave him stability and adulthood. Happiness would come back – he hoped, anyway.

November 3rd, 2020

It was dizzying, having Tony’s attention focused on him again. The glasses were a welcome addition to Tony’s stupidly attractive face. They magnified the color of his eyes and gave off an air of maturity – though, the AC/DC shirt that clung to his chest counteracted that a little bit. Shrugging that thought off, Peter forced himself to forget about that debilitating mindset. It already cost him Tony once – the least he could do for himself was stop it from happening a second time.

When he first walked in, Peter was surprised to see that not a lot changed over the years – there were a few new art pieces on the wall, but the bare bones were the same. Even the menus Peter spent countless hours passing out and cleaning looked exactly the same. It felt like both a blessing and a curse, being in a place that seemed so familiar and yet entirely too foreign all at the same time. As he got further into the restaurant, Peter waited for the second that Tony caught sight of him – and was not disappointed a single bit. A reserved smile slipped across the other man’s face, the slightest bit of wrinkle by his eyes the only physical mark of their time spent apart.

Peter didn’t expect the hug that was placed upon him, but before he could even think about it, Tony’s arms were around him – his grip the same tightness he held Peter’s body with during their time together. It made his heart ache; how much he missed such a simple touch – and how easily he let go of it. Ignoring how pathetic he should’ve felt, Peter returned the embrace, his own arms tightening around Tony’s as if this were his only opportunity.

“Fuck, I’ve missed you,” Peter heard Tony say, the whiskered lips mere millimeters from the shell of his ear as he did. “It’s good to see you, Pete.”

Unable to do anything else, Peter tucked his face a little further into Tony’s neck, his nostrils expanding with the long breath he pulled into his chest. Though the underlying smell of Dove for Men wasn’t there anymore, Peter could recognize that cologne anywhere. The olfactory association of the scent brought him to so many places all at once, each one reminding him of all the good memories and wasted time in between then and now.

“I missed you, too. I can’t believe you’re here. That you wanted to see me. Hell, that you look so damn good,” Peter said in reply as he finally tore himself away. His hands shifted to take hold of Tony’s biceps, his grip still firm, still clinging in a way that spoke of hope – hope that, when all was said and done, Tony wouldn’t walk away.

After getting his shit together, Peter took the seat next to Tony at the table – his chair a little closer than normal proximity usually called for. If Tony minded, he didn’t mention it; the man was so cool, he sipped at his warm coffee without a second of hesitation, despite the billowing steam rushing from the top.

Using the ruse of settling in, Peter took a minute to really take Tony in. His hands were still insanely sexy, fingers long and tan like the rest of him – his skin riddled with a few more nicks and cuts than before, but that was to be expected. His t-shirt fit him tightly, the sleeves highlighting the benefits of manual labor that running a kitchen called for. His coveted chef whites were hanging over the back of his chair, the crisp Stark’s on the right lapel bringing a smile to his face.

“You look amazing, Tony. Like time didn’t touch you at all.”

Tony turned towards him then, his fingers abandoning their hold on the coffee cup in front of him. “Nice of you to say. It feels like it has. Sometimes, it feels like 20 years past, instead of just 6.”

Reaching out, Peter let the tips of his fingers rest against the back of Tony’s hand, his pinky finger finding the same scar he obsessively touched whenever they held hands all that time ago. The caress pulled a shiver from them both, hazel met brown for a long second before Tony blinked and looked away.

“I thought it was just me that felt like that.”

Their conversations hit a pause after that, both of them soaking in the situation while the waitress came to take Peter’s order – his customary order of French toast and espresso rolling off his tongue before he even needed to think about it.

“It’s nice to know some things don’t ever change.” Tony looked at him, a hesitant smile on his face. “Do you still slather it in peanut butter?”

“Is it even French toast without it?”

The comment made Tony light up, his eyes twinkling with amusement, a laugh leaving his lips. “No, I guess it’s not.”

Laughter sat between them for a few minutes – their waitress came with food and coffee for Peter, her eyes lingering on them longer than necessary until her glance moved across the wall to where the old crew photos were hanging. “I knew I recognized you two. Stevie still talks about your crew like it hasn’t been years since you were last working here.” She gave them both a smile, left behind utensils, and turned away – a new sort of pep in her step.

“Do you even think about it?” Peter asked, gesturing over his shoulder in the direction of the photos, like he didn’t just ask the most complex question to ever exist. “Those times, I mean.”

Tony took another long pull of his coffee before answering, the seconds between his lips wrapping around the cup and his eyes meeting Peter’s feeling like days. He caught himself holding his breath, his subconscious tensing up for whatever blow that might come his way.

“Every day.” Tony finally answered, his tone of voice serious, the look he gave Peter whimsical. “I can’t remember a time in the last 6 years when I wasn’t thinking about this place, this city – you.”

Like magnets, their hands were drawn together – Tony let the back of his rest against the table, Peter slipping his own against it so they were palm to palm, fingers interlaced.

“Tell me how you lived without it. Did somebody change your world?”

Tony looked at him then, his eyes wide with questions, with the need to have answers to them without having to voice them, or even put them into the universe to be heard. His fingers tightened around Peter’s; their palms now pressed fully together. The contact was almost too much for the moment, their closeness on the border of being suffocating when that sort of demand sat on the table.

Sucking in a deep breath, Peter squared his shoulders, his own fingers gripping Tony’s in a small attempt at reassurance. “It was never anything like that. Someone or something else. When you told me about Paris, all I could hear was my aunt’s voice telling me that I wasn’t going to be a kid forever. That one day I’d need to grow up and, in that moment, it was too loud – too loud to ignore or fight against. I didn’t see past anything after that.”

“But didn’t that make you sad? Thinking that we’ll never be kids again? Letting something like that make all of your decisions?” Tony tilted his head to the side, eyes not leaving Peter’s for a second.

“Yes!” Peter exclaimed, the words shooting from his mouth. “I came to realize, not long after I let you go, that growing up didn’t change who I was, or what I wanted. Being with you, the feeling of child-like wonder would never go away. We were moving towards what I wanted without me even realizing it. That’s the thing that made me sad the most – knowing how silly I’d been, thinking I’d want anything other than that feeling of never coming down.”

By the time he finished talking, there were tears in his eyes – the big drops there threatening to fall with every blink. He felt warm everywhere, like if he let go of anything – Tony’s hand, the way he felt, the pent-up guilt residing within him – he just might explode.

Knowing him as well as he did, even after years of distance between them, Tony pushed his chair away from the table and closed the space between them, his arms wrapping around Peter in a bone crushing hug. The time between their past and their present narrowing down to nothing with their embrace.

“It’s okay, Pete. I got it then and I get it now. I thought about you every day, not because I was mad or hurt, but because I knew – even with so much time and space between us – that you were worth every moment, every thought, every second of pining I couldn’t stop myself from doing. Paris was great – but it wasn’t where I needed to be. No matter how hard I tried to make it home.”

Each word drove him a little closer to the edge and when Tony’s warmth finally seeped deep into his core, Peter was unable to hold himself together. Tears streamed down his face, each one trekking to his chin, only to fall down the length of his neck to stain the collar of his shirt. He clung to Tony with all that he was worth – his perception of the restaurant around him narrowing down to nothing but their booth, their connection, their skin brushing in the most intimate of ways.

When there weren’t any more tears left to cry, Peter shifted slightly, his nose brushing against Tony’s cheek with the movement. Instead of shying away like he had every right to do, Tony leaned into the caress – his cheek warm to the touch. “It’s okay, Pete. It’s okay. I missed you, too.”

There wasn’t much productivity after that. Peter pulled away completely, only to remember that he was in a public place and just had a very real, very vulnerable melt down in front of a lot of random people. His cheeks colored for a moment, but Tony was there to sooth him, his work roughened hand grasping Peter’s without hesitation. They shared a tentative smile – the light in Tony’s eyes something Peter wasn’t sure he remembered being so goddamn vivid.

They finished up pretty quickly, Peter’s embarrassment still sitting in the forefront of his mind, despite the quiet support from Tony’s presence. He laid a couple of twenties on the table, waving Tony away when he tried to add his own money.

“I cried on your shoulder – let me buy you some breakfast.”

With a laugh, Tony nodded and walked towards the door, his eyes tracking Peter’s movement as he got himself together once more – it was almost like Tony was afraid he’d disappear if he looked away, even for a second.

Out on the sidewalk, Peter started walking towards his car when Tony’s arm shot out, his fingers gripping firm biceps. “I don’t want this to be the last time I see you. I can’t go another six years.” As he spoke, Tony loosened his fingers, letting his hand rest on Peter’s hip, instead. “Please tell me I can see you again.”

Despite his hopes and the smallest bit of expectation Peter couldn’t help himself from feeling, he wasn’t expecting anything like this – an invitation for something further. Turning until he could wrap his arms around Tony’s shoulders, Peter leaned in until their foreheads were resting against each other’s, breaths shared between them. He felt Tony’s nose brush against his before their lips met in the smallest hint of a kiss -

“Any time you want, Tony. I’m not going anywhere. Never, ever, ever again.”