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Squirrels everywhere - Tony's always loved squirrels. He looks at them now, wondering why it took him so long to come back and have a stroll down Central Park like he used to do when things got too much at home.
It's been thirty years since his parents died and he hasn't had to worry about Howard's rants and fits anymore, thirty years since he's last been able to confide in his mother and take comfort from her presence. Central Park had been his refuge back then and for some reason, Tony figures, he's crossed down the place as part of his past, something he doesn't like to dwell on nowadays.
But he's bored, and restless still. So here he is, back between glowing green trees and curious squirrels that await for the first passersby to drop a piece of their sandwich or something.
His phone feels heavy in his pocket but he's told himself he wouldn't look at it today. Tony Stark can get a day off and actually not work. He tries to believe that's true.
He can feel Pepper smirking even when she isn't anywhere near him nowadays. Years of practice, he guesses.
Tony walks slowly, another thing he isn't used to, but it feels good, almost like he's walking someone else's steps. He takes in the ambient noises and the different shades of light he treads through. There's a faint smile drawing on his lips - so that's what being relaxed feels like.
It's nice.
He sees a bench and thinks he may as well sit down and people-watch - a habit of his he's dropped far too long ago. People are interesting, even when you can't hear what they're saying, there's always something to be learned from the way they look and move around.
Tony looks for someone to study first and gawks. Looks like he's not going to jump from person to person like he thought he would. Not when the first face he picks he recognizes.
Peter.
That's...Tony thinks he ought to have taken longer to recognize him, ten years is a long time without seeing someone; he doesn't. It literally takes him just long enough for the man to raise his head from the book he's reading on a nearby bench - just a few seconds he takes to push his hair out of his eyes and that's it - the air is punched out of Tony's lungs.
He ponders whether or not he should go say hi, then huffs at himself. As if he could ever not go and say hi when he's had the hardest time thinking about anyone else ever and has spent the last ten years comparing everyone he's met and had so much as a fling with with Peter.
Peter Parker, 27 now if Tony can still count.
Tony pinches the bridge of his nose before leaving his own bench behind.
He doesn't say anything at first, only sits next to the other man and looks straight ahead of him, in the void. He considers waiting to see if he'll notice who just sat next to him.
He decides against it.
"I hope the book's not too good or I'll feel guilty I'm interrupting," Tony says, his fists balled in the pockets of his hoodie. He turns to look at Peter in time to see him jump and realize who's just talked.
The man's mouth makes a comical little "o" and it takes him a while to answer - long enough for Tony to unabashedly check him out, study the minute ways his face has changed, the ways it hasn't, too.
"Tony Stark," Peter finally says and smiles halfway through it.
It makes something frail and vulnerable light up inside Tony's mind, maybe even his heart - Peter's smile always made him the weakest.
"Himself," Tony bites his lower lip and copies Peter's position on the bench, one knee bent against his chest so he can properly face him and rest his chin on it.
His mouth opens and closes upon many, many words, all different starters to how much he's missed the man and how much he didn't expect to see him here and how hard life has been since they've parted ways.
All that comes out is, "You look great."
It's enough for Peter's smile to widen though and Tony squeezes his eyes closed for a few seconds, just so he gets to open them again and see that Peter is still here. Not gone anywhere but here, existing in the same space as him.
"I--" he starts but Peter interrupts.
"I'm 27 now," Peter blushes just as he says it, "Not that...Not that you'd remember but yeah, my birthday was last month and I'm...I just got an apartment not too far--"
"Peter, you're supposed to breathe every once in a while." Tony laughs, delighting in the renewed flush that colors Peter's cheeks. He sobers up quickly though, "I know how old you are, believe me, I know."
Peter's eyes widen just a bit, "Yeah?"
"Yeah."
There's so much that's not said and yet understood crystal clear right there, so much that passes between the two men as neither of then says anything more, just look into each other's eyes. They search for things they've already found, just a few minutes ago, or maybe ten years before that.
It's easy for Tony to reach a hand out to Peter, even easier for Peter to take it and lead Tony to his place. Life's been nice enough to give them this chance of fulfilling a desire and longing they've both nursed from day one, neither is ready to let it go, ever again.
A hand in Tony's hair and his lips still red and puffy from passionate kisses they've exchanged all night long, Peter grins. "You look great too."