#yeah it sucks that corporate is jerking you around on when your gift is gonna show up but the clerk isn't lying when he says he can't help

[greatwyrmgold]

While Christmas shopping this morning, I ran into someone so angry and entitled that I got customer-service abuse in a store I don't actually work in.

[intothestarkerverse]

Paper Hearts

The Starker-Office AU the world needs.

Tony Stark is a paper salesman who hates his job but is secretly in love with the beautiful receptionist. A glimpse into their unorthodox courtship and happily ever after.

Tony Stark hated his job.

Selling paper was one of the most boring professions he could think of, and it had a very obvious expiration date that drew ever closer the more digitized the world became.  At best, he thought, he had another few years before he had to hit the unemployment line and look for another job he despised.  Nothing left to do but collect his paychecks until then, really.

His boss was an idiot.  

Scott Lang was no where near as funny as he thought he was.  His jokes caused Tony actual, physical pain.  The way the guy was a lapdog for Hope from corporate, that was even worse.  Didn’t help that for some reason Scott thought he and Tony were best friends.  The indignities he put up with for this job were not worth the pay check he took home.  Not.  At.  All.

The guy across from his desk was a killjoy.  You’d think Steve Rogers had some amazingly important job with how dedicated he was to it.  First one to arrive.  Last one to leave.  He was a puny little, sanctimonious nerd that Tony loved to play practical jokes on…which was really only one of two things that made the job bearable.  The second?  The second was Peter.

Peter fucking Parker.  

The receptionist.  

Light of his life.  

His reason for waking up in the morning.

The only damn reason he hadn’t left this fucking job in pursuit of something that didn’t make him contemplate using his letter opener to carve a giant hole into the middle of his chest.

Peter was young and beautiful and sweet and he sat directly in Tony’s line of view.  He caught himself staring at the kid way more often than he should.  He would day dream about running his fingers through those fluffy chestnut curls, tugging on the strands in the throes of passion.  He pictured what Peter’s lips would look like wrapped around more than just the straw of his water bottle.  He committed every centimeter of Peter’s face to his memory, knew every piece of clothing in the kid’s wardrobe…enough that he recognized when Peter had treated himself to a new sweater or pair of skinny jeans.  Tony stared because it was all he was allowed to do, and it was the only thing that got him through the day.  Peter caught him, too, but either the kid didn’t realize that Tony was head over heels in love with him…or he didn’t care.  

Tony really hoped it was the former, but it didn’t matter really because Peter had a fiance, Quentin Beck, some handsome asshole from the warehouse who had been promising Peter a ‘happily ever after’ that the kid had yet to realize was really a ‘never gonna happen’.  Quentin wasn’t ready to grow up, settle down, be a fucking man, and Tony had caught him flirting with people who weren’t Peter enough times to know he was a piece of shit.  Quentin Beck didn’t know what he had, but Tony did.  He hated that fucking guy, and the feeling was clearly mutual.

Someday.  Someday, Tony was going to sweep Peter off his feet, steal him away from the asshat and show the kid what a happily ever after should look like.

Someday.

If he ever worked up the nerve.

Until then…

***

Tony leaned against the reception desk, drumming his fingers on the Formica counter and waiting for Peter to finish his call.  Peter glanced up at him through a curtain of eyelashes, biting back a grin and holding a finger to his lips as he quickly scrawled a message on a notepad for Scott.

“Mhm, yeah, no, I’ll totally have him call you back…Yeah…Soon, for sure…Uh huh…Yep, I have here that it’s important so he’ll definitely get back to you…Yep…Cool, okay.  Bye.”  He placed the phone back in it’s cradle carefully and turned his attention to Tony, resting his head in one hand and blushing intensely under the other man’s gaze.  “That was corporate.  You could have gotten me into trouble.”

“I’d never get you into trouble, Pete.  I’d sooner die.”

“This job’s not worth dying over, Mr. Stark.”

“You might be…”

Peter choked out an embarrassed giggle.  “Stop it!  You’re the worst.  Did you just come over here to tease me or did you need help with the copier again?  For someone with half a degree in computers, you really suck with copiers, you know that?”

Tony shrugged, so what if that was one of his many excuses to spend a little time with Peter during the day.  He could hardly be faulted for that.  “Got you a present.  Wanted to make sure you got to enjoy it properly.”

“Oh yeah, what did you get me?”  Peter looked more than a little skeptical, and in all honesty, he probably had a right to be.

“Wait until Rogers gets back from his coffee break and then enjoy the show, Kid.”

“Oh my god, what did you do?”

Tony chuckled, stealing a piece of candy from the bowl Peter filled every week.  “I may have hacked his computer last night…sent him a very official looking email from the US Army inquiring about a very special kind of paper needed for a top secret mission and included a referral from one of his best clients.”

“You didn’t!”

“He’s always acting like his job is a matter of life and death, let’s give the geek a thrill, huh?”

“Mr. Stark, that’s so mean…”

“I could abort the mission if you really think…”

“I mean it would be a shame to waste all that hard work…”

***

“No.”

“Seriously, Steve, I haven’t even gotten to ask…”

“I know, but whatever it is you want, Tony, it can’t be good.  So, no.  My answer is no.”

Tony frowned, hanging his head in frustration for several seconds.  “I know you got Peter in the office Secret Santa thing…”

“How do you know that?  Did you just conveniently skip over the ‘secret’ part?”

Tony was trying really hard to be nice here.  Steve wasn’t making it easy.  “I asked everyone else.  Paid them.  Did them favors.  Tracked down the lucky bastard who was gifting Peter…and Fate hates me, so here we are.  Look, Rogers, I know we’re not friends…”

“Whose fault is that?”

“Mine.  Mine.  It’s clearly mine.  I accept the blame.  I do.  It’s just…I have something planned for Pete and I need to be his Secret Santa.  I will do literally anything.  Name your price.”

“I can’t be bought, Tony.  Peter has a fiance, or did you forget that?  Whatever you want from him, it can’t be good.”

Tony groaned, hitting his forehead against the top of his desk.  “I know Peter has a fiance, Rogers.  Believe me, no one is more aware of Quentin’s existence than I am.  The guy’s a jerk…a bigger jerk than me, and that’s really saying something.  You know it’s true.  He’s a piece of shit and Peter deserves better.  The guy is going to give him some generic piece of crap for Christmas, no thought at all.  You know it.  Peter’s a good kid.  He deserves…he deserves a lot more than that shithole.  Let me give him something nice.  I’m not going to break up his relationship.  I’m not going to lead him down the path of temptation.  I just want to give him something nice and make him smile without him feeling like he needs to do something for me, okay?  Rogers…I’m begging you.”

Steve stared at him for several long minutes before he sighed and nodded.  “Fine.  Yeah.  Okay.”

“Bless you, Steve Rogers.  Consider this our armistice.  War over.”

“I’ll believe that when I see it.”

***

Tony had never wanted to hug anyone as badly as he wanted to hug Peter in that moment.

The kid looked defeated.

He was seated at a little card table towards the back of the comic book shop with several stacks of his own self-published comic in little piles all around him.  

No one was stopping to look at them.  To talk to him.  To acknowledge his existence at all.

His eyes were glassy.  The kid was literally minutes away from crying and he just couldn’t let that happen.

“Just your luck that you’d have your debut on a rainy day, Parker.”

Peter jumped, scrubbing a hand over his cheeks and putting on a brave face as he looked up at Tony with a paradoxical mixture of relief and fear.  “Tony!  You…you came.”

“Course I came.  Wouldn’t miss this for the world.  But seriously, you know rainy days are terrible for business, right?  It’s a proven fact.  Why…I’ve never seen so few people in here before.  Gotta be the weather.”

“Yeah…no, yeah, I’m sure you’re right.”  Peter looked like he didn’t quite believe Tony, but he was also apparently eager for an excuse to explain his lackluster turn out.  Had anyone else from the office even come?  Ass holes.  All of them.  And where the fuck was Quentin?

“So, let’s see…”  Tony reached out for one of the books, carefully flipping through the pages and perusing the content with a little humming noise.  “Hey, now, do you take inspiration from people you know?”

Peter was blushing.  “Maybe…”

“No maybe about it, Peter, you cannot tell me this handsome bastard isn’t based off me.”  He flipped the book around, tapping at an image of a roguishly handsome superhero in crimson and gold armor.  “You know I’m a raging narcissist, right?  I was going to buy a book anyway, but now I have to buy the whole series cause I’m one of the stars.  You in here, too?”

Peter nodded slowly, his blush darkening.  “Yeah…but I won’t tell you who.  You’ll have to figure that out…”

“I do love a challenge.”  Tony closed the book and reached out to add one from every pile to the one in his hands.  “So, how much?”

“Um…they’re ten a piece but…”

“But obviously that’s much too low so I’ll give you a hundred for the set of five.”

“Tony, no…”

“Fine.  A hundred and fifty it is.  You’re a tough negotiator, Pete.”

“Tony!”  The smile on Peter’s face was worth every fucking penny.  And who needed to eat, anyway?

***

“Mr. Stark!  You promised that the goatee was not because of my comics.”

Peter was standing at his desk with both hands over his mouth.  His face was as brilliantly red as the home made Halloween costume Tony had donned for work that day…the costume he had based entirely off of Peter’s comic and the character he just knew was based on him.  Had to be.  And dammit, if he was right…if he was right, than Peter had even made himself Tony’s fucking love interest…and wasn’t that just the most interesting thing he’d ever read in his whole damn life?

“So, I lied.  It’s not my fault. You’re such a damn good artist that I took one look at my comic book self with that awesome facial hair and said, ‘Fuck, Tony, why did you never realize that you’d be even more devastatingly attractive if you just had an impeccably groomed goatee?’  The world has you to thank for it, Pete, and I’m definitely keeping it because it’s been a hit.”

Peter’s hands dropped from his face to his sides.  He was chewing on his bottom lip, looking pensive.  “Who…I didn’t know you were dating anybody Mr. Stark.  I’m glad…they like it.  I guess…”

Tony didn’t bother to correct him.  Not yet.  A little jealousy might do the kid some good, let him know how much Tony wanted to choke the fucking life out of Quentin every time that piece of shit showed his face.

***

Peter was wearing a new soft blue sweater over a button down shirt and Tony was trying very hard not to swoon over how fucking adorable he looked.  He was playing with his gum, winding it around his finger before popping it into his mouth to begin again.  He had his phone concealed in his lap so no one could see him playing on social media while he was supposed to be working.  That was probably why he didn’t hear Tony approach until the man was standing directly in front of him, leaning against the reception desk and looking at Peter with what Tony recognized was something very close to the heart-eye emoji.  God, this kid.  

He really couldn’t take it anymore.

He had to make a move.

Be brave.

Be bold.

Be the fucking hero in that kid’s comic.

“What are you doing tonight, Pete?”

Peter jumped a little, looking up at Tony with a little flush of surprise.  “Tonight?  I don’t know.  Quentin’s got poker at Drax’s, so probably just going to lay in bed and catch up on Netflix.  Why?”

Tony smirked, dropping something on the desk in front of him.

“Oh my god, how did you get this?  It’s not even supposed to be released for another two weeks…”  Peter’s excitement was quelled by the sudden realization, “Is this a bootleg?”

Tony nodded.  He was never going to admit to how much he’d spent for a bootleg copy of something he cared absolutely nothing about because in the end…it was going to be completely worth it.  “Come over to my place tonight.  We can break the law together.”

“You think if the FBI raids your place while we’re in the middle of it that we could at least be cellmates, Mr. Stark?”

“Don’t worry, Pete, I’ll protect you in the prison yard.  No one would dare put a hand on you.”

“I’ve always thought you’d make a great prison husband.”  The witty banter ground to a halt with Peter’s last quip, his light brown eyes flaring wide.  His mouth had runaway without his better judgment, but Tony wasn’t quite ready to let it go yet.

“Oh, I’d make a great husband, prison or not.”  Tony held Peter’s gaze for a second longer than was probably comfortable for both of them, the kid’s face was red as a cherry tomato when they were interrupted by the sound of an exasperated sigh from behind them.

“Tony…could you just grow up already?  Some of us are actually trying to work…”

Peter giggled into his hand, leaning to the side to look around Tony at Steve Rogers’ desk.  “I thought you and Mr. Rogers had finally ended the Civil War, what did you do this time?”  He was careful to keep his tone soft enough that it didn’t carry.

“Hm?”  Tony was still distracted by thoughts of Peter as his prison wife, but managed to pull himself out of it to look back over his shoulder and shrug.  “I super glued everything to his desk last night.”

“Everything?”

“Everything.”

Peter was under his desk now, hugging his sides and laughing himself breathless.  

***

It was far from the first time he and Peter had spent time together outside of work.  They were friendly, in fact.  Quentin didn’t share any of Peter’s interests, and that left plenty of things for Tony to exploit.  Movies Quentin wouldn’t be caught dead seeing.  Video game releases.  Comic conventions.  Hell, Tony had even gone to a few games of D&D with Peter because he would take literally any excuse to spend time with that kid.

Now, they were cuddled up on Tony’s couch in his apartment with enough snack food to weather the apocalypse and a bootleg that Peter was dying to see.  Though, for something Peter was dying to see, he didn’t seem as enthusiastic about watching it as he had earlier that day.

“Pete?  You okay?  Something happen after work?”  He’d been fine when they’d said their goodbyes that day.

Peter ran a hand through his curls and let out a long, shaky breath.  “I think Quentin might be cheating on me.  I don’t have proof but…Drax didn’t know anything about a poker game tonight and it’s just, it’s little things, you know?  I found this little church I really liked for the wedding and I mentioned it to him, that we could maybe set a date…but he brushed me off.  MJ…you know from customer service?  She says I’m an idiot, that he’s never going to marry me and now I’m afraid she’s right…do think she’s right, Tony?”

Tony reached out, drawing the younger man close and inhaling the scent of his shampoo as he tucked Peter against his chest.  “You’re not an idiot, Peter.  You’re way better than that piece of shit in the warehouse deserves.  You’re beautiful and smart and funny and talented, and if you were mine…we’d have fucking eloped the second you said you’d marry me.”

Peter pulled back with a watery smile, “Yeah?”

“Mhm.  They increased the limit on my credit card last month.  Enough for two tickets to Vegas, a week long stay in a crappy casino and a quickie wedding chapel.  I’d lock that shit down before you had a second to realize that you could do better than me, too.”

“Better than you?”  Peter sounded as if that idea was more insane than eloping to Vegas minutes after a marriage proposal.  “Tony, there isn’t anyone better than you.”

“If you believed that, you wouldn’t be with that piece of shit, Quentin Beck.”

Now, Peter just looked confused.  “In what universe did I ever have a choice between you and Quentin?”

“This one.”

Peter’s head slowly canted to one side, brow furrowing and eyes narrowing.  “No…”

“Oh yes, Pete.”  Never in his wildest dreams had ever thought that Peter thought Tony was out of his league.  Was the kid blind?  Did he not own a mirror?  Did he not know how brilliant and funny and talented…  “Oh yes..”  Those last two words were repeated a hair’s breadth from Peter’s lips as Tony leaned forward to bridge the distance between them.

It was everything Tony had ever thought it would be and so much more.  Peter’s lips were soft, his whimpers were music to Tony’s ears.  Tony let himself bury his fingers in those chestnut curls and inhale the scent of him, revel in the taste of him, live in that moment as if it was the only one he was ever going to get.

The kiss went on until neither one of them could breath, until they were forced to pull back with heaving chests and swollen lips.  Peter stared at Tony for several seconds before he threw off the blanket and walked out of the room.

What.

What the fuck.

Tony was dumbfounded.  Was Peter not into it?  Had he just been shot down?  Was Peter not even going to talk to him…

No.

No.

Peter was back.

With his laptop?

Tony frowned, watching as Peter dropped the computer in his lap followed by something small and golden.  Glancing up, Tony caught sight of Peter’s now empty ring finger.

“Put your money where your mouth is, Stark.”

Tony stared. “What…”

“Two tickets.  Vegas.  ASAP.”

“Wait…”  He couldn’t be serious.

“No, you said you wouldn’t make me wait.  I already Snapped Quentin.  We’re broken up.  I’m single…but I don’t want to be.  So buy me those tickets to Vegas and a ring…when we get there.”

Tony slowly opened the laptop, stealing glances at Peter ever few seconds as he booted it and pulled up a travel site.  “You’re not…this isn’t a joke, right?”

“Not a joke.  You’re not the only one who’s been pining, Tony Stark.  Why do you think Quentin hated you so much?  He knew I was super into you…hell, Tony, I made you my lover in my comics…You’ve been my unattainable crush since I started my job.  You’re the nicest guy I’ve ever met. Most supportive.  We have fun together.  We have a lot in common.  We just…”

“Yeah.”  Tony was smiling now, not even second guessing himself as he typed in his credit card numbers.  “I don’t know if we can get a week off work…”

“Four day weekend is good enough for now.  I’ll call Mr. Lang and let him know we won’t be in.  I’ll have to tell him why…”

“God help us.”

***

Four days later when Tony and Peter returned to work in the same car, they arrived to find an impromptu wedding shower waiting for them.  Quentin had quit.  Left all of Peter’s stuff in the warehouse in a pile in the middle of one of the docking bays. But whatever, the less they had to see of that prick the better.  Scott seemed happier about their elopement than they were, and he’d gone to great lengths to print up t-shirts proclaiming that everyone in the office ‘shipped Starker’.  Even Rogers was wearing one.

Tony pretended to hate it.

Really he fucking loved it.  

Maybe his job wasn’t the absolute worst after all…