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1.
Tony is sure he’s going to fuck this up any second now. He’s met himself, and he’s met Peter, and no matter how many times Peter tells him this relationship is the coolest, greatest, most awesome thing to ever happen to him, all he can do is look at the situation and think: countdown to disaster.
He tries, really, really fucking hard, to actually do the whole boyfriend thing right. He never appreciated before exactly how much effort goes into making reservations, not to mention making sure they get to the reservations something resembling on time; a tough ask when you take into account his own loose relationship to following instructions and combine it with Peter’s hectic schedule and tendency to get distracted by friendly neighborhood duties like stopping crime and rescuing kittens out of trees. And, yeah, fine, it doesn’t take long until F.R.I.D.A.Y. is basically in charge of all the logistical parts of putting together a date, but still, Tony is in charge of F.R.I.D.A.Y., so that counts. And he thinks he’s knocking the whole thing out of the park until a month in, when Peter finally says, “You know you don’t have to take me someplace fancy every weekend, right?”
“Nonsense,” Tony replies. “What’s mine is yours, blah, blah. I want to, Pete, don’t worry about it.”
Confusing bit of data: Peter does not look nearly as charmed by that answer as he should. He almost sighs as he replies, “I mean, if it’s what you really want…”
See? Tony knew he would fuck up. He’s just not sure what he did wrong.
-
It’s Rhodey who knocks some sense into him.
“Dude,” he says, mouth full of pizza. He chews and swallows, throwing back a beer before finally finishing his thought. “He’s a college kid”—a fact Rhodey has taken some time to come around to—“with a superhero gig on the side. Maybe sometimes he just wants to relax with you.”
“I…had not thought of that,” Tony admits.
“Yeah, I know.” Rhodey points at the pizza. “Why do you think I insist on planning every time we hang out?”
-
The next weekend, Tony tells Peter they’re switching things up.
“Forget my restaurants, for the next month, I want you to take me to your favorite places.”
The smile he gets in return makes having to go all the way to Queens just to get a sandwich worth it.
2.
One-year anniversary, big deal, right? Right. Tony is smart enough to know it’s a big deal. So he went all out in the present department. And hey, he learned from the bunny incident, okay? He got Peter something he actually needs.
“You…bought me an apartment?” Peter says, after the blindfold is removed and Tony babbles an explanation. “You bought me an entire Upper West Side apartment?”
“Yep. You’re always complaining about your commute, this is right near school, easy access to wherever you end up working after…”
“Oh. Right.”
He doesn’t sound happy. Why doesn’t he sound happy? The apartment is perfectly located, and Tony took scrupulous notes on Peter’s tastes, even going so far as to pretend he was considering buying a second apartment just for an excuse to get his input. He’s honestly sure he nailed exactly what Peter would want.
“Okay, Spidey, what’s the problem?” he asks, because he’s been doing this thing where he actually tries to ask when someone seems upset with him. Pepper had always wanted him to do that. Never say he doesn’t learn, even if the lesson takes a few years to sink in. “And please don’t tell me it’s too much, because you know that doesn’t matter to me.”
“Nothing’s wrong,” Peter says, completely unconvincingly. “It’s great, Tony, really. It’s gorgeous.”
“But?” Tony prods. Look at him, he can tell there’s a but, and he’s brave enough to find out what it is. Someone give him a medal.
“But…” Peter licks his lips, eyes flicking to the floor. “You want me to live here next year? Then after I graduate?”
“Well, yeah, that was the—”
Wait. He is a god damn idiot.
“You want to move in with me.” He should probably put that as a question, but he’s not very good at making things into questions once he’s figured out they’re true. “That’s the problem.”
Peter is so fucking adorable as he gives a bad impression of a nonchalant shrug. “Not like right this second? Or, I mean yeah, if you wanted, but it’s okay if you don’t, I just…kind of thought after college? I mean, this apartment is really nice but—”
The rest of his thought is lost in Tony’s kiss.
-
They move Peter in the next weekend, but Tony insists he keep the apartment, because it was a gift. He tells him to think of it as an investment, but what he really means is he never wants Peter to feel trapped. This way, he always has a place to go, when Tony fucks up later.
(Peter lets one of his college friends live there for free, because of course he does. So much for having a place to go.)
3.
Tony still gets nightmares, and when he gets nightmares he still likes to tinker in the lab that lives on the bottom floor of his duplex. He’s learned the hard way that he can’t build himself a safety net around the world, or even around the people he loves, but concentrating on something concrete and physical—building a new suit, fixing a car—lets his mind clear. Like meditation, but more useful, because he gets something out of it in the end.
The problem is, he knows from years with Pepper that people don’t generally like to wake up to discover they’ve been abandoned for a lab, so he tried not to do it when Peter was around. That was fine when they weren’t living together; Peter was over a lot, but not all the time—he had school and friends and things that kept him away. But now he’s here, all the time, and eventually Tony is going to have to disappoint him, because the other thing he learned from years with Pepper is that this particular quirk of his is not something he can do without.
He gets away with it, the first few times. Peter sleeps soundly, and Tony normally wakes up long before him anyway, so there’s nothing suspicious when he’s already downstairs by the time the kid stumbles out of bed at ten in the morning. But it can’t last. Of course it can’t. A few weeks in, he gets caught.
“Tony?” Peter asks, shuffling into the lab in sweatpants and no shirt, curls sticking up in odd directions, matted from going straight to sleep after decidedly non-sleep activities earlier in the night. His eyes are puffy and tired. “What’re you doing down here?”
Tony thinks about lying, saying he had a brilliant idea that just couldn’t wait. Peter might understand that. But then he’d ask what it is, and Tony wouldn’t have an answer, because all he’s actually doing is patching up a gauntlet that was damaged in training. “Sorry, Pete. This is what I do when I can’t sleep.”
Peter considers this, then crosses the lab and pulls up a stool next to Tony, close enough that their knees press together. “I’m too tired to help, but can I watch for a little?”
“I—” It’s hard to find words when his body is so busy filling with joy he feels like it’s going to burst. “Yeah, kid, you can watch.”
-
Sometimes Peter sleeps through the night. Sometimes he watches. Sometimes he helps. Sometimes he’s the one downstairs alone, Tony wandering in later to watch or help. It’s not a perfect system—their household drinks a lot of coffee, and maybe they should be worried about the number of nightmares they have, collectively—but it’s theirs, and it works.
4.
“Peter, you can’t be this irresponsible!”
“Says Tony Stark.” Peter’s eyes are fierce, framed by black, echos of smoke still clinging to his face. “Are you kidding me right now?”
It’s their first real fight; not grumpy snipping on a bad day, but explosive, voices raised, Tony trembling and gripping his wrist, holding back tears, failing to hold back his anger.
“Peter, that building collapsed on you. While it was on fire. That’s not okay.”
“Better me than the people who were inside it! Or firefighters!” Peter coughs, deep and terrible, as if his lungs are being ripped out from the inside. “I’m fine.”
“You don’t sound fine. You sound the opposite of fine.”
“And you sound ridiculous. I’m alive. They wouldn’t have been.” He coughs again. The sound makes Tony want to hurt someone. The fire. He wants to hurt the fire. Can you beat up fire? “I saved ten people. How are you angry at me about that?”
“Because you could’ve died!”
“We both could die all the time! It’s what we do! Almost die!” Peter shakes his head, taking a deep breath and running his hand through his hair, fingers trembling with repressed fury. “I’m too tired to do this right now, Tony. I’m going to go take a shower, then go out to get something to eat. Please just leave me alone for the rest of the day.”
“Peter, you can’t just walk away—”
“Actually, I think I can.” His tone is cold, a little sarcastic; the closest Peter Parker gets to cruel, which isn’t very close, but that doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt. “After all, as someone keeps pointing out, I almost died today. I’m really not in the mood to be yelled at.”
And then he does: he walks away. And there’s nothing Tony can do about it.
-
He goes back to the scene of the fire. He can’t beat up fire, but he can help clear the rubble. He mutes the suit and screams as he breaks apart the charred beams that used to hold up an apartment building. Giant, terrifying, burning beams that crushed Peter beneath them and—fuck. He could’ve died. He really, really could’ve died.
-
Peter tenses when Tony slips into bed, but doesn’t protest when he wraps his arms around him, pulling him close. Even after showers, they both smell like smoke.
“I’m sorry,” Tony says into Peter’s hair. “I shouldn’t have yelled. I was scared.” The tears that had been building all day catch in his throat. “I can’t lose you, Peter. I don’t know what I’d do if I lost you.”
“I know, Tony,” Peter replies, just as urgent, pulling one of Tony’s hands to his lips and pressing a kiss into his palm. “I know. I love you.” He twists until they’re facing each other, little more than burning eyes in the dark. “But you can’t get mad at me about this stuff. It’s not fair. I don’t get mad at you.”
Tony laughs, wet. Because that is so fucking true it almost hurts. It’s one of the many, many things he loves about him. “In my defense, I have always said I want you to be better than me.”
Peter sighs, fighting back a smile, obvious even in the dim light. “Tony, I’m serious.”
“I know.” He disentangles his hand from where it’s managed to get caught between them so he can stroke Peter’s face, thumb tracing a cut that’s already mostly healed. “I promise I’ll try. I was just really scared, Pete.”
“Yeah.” Peter suddenly sounds smaller, younger: vulnerable. “I was scared, too.”
Right. Of course. He was scared, because he risked his life to save other people, which is exactly what makes him the person Tony fell in love with. And then Tony went and made it worse by yelling at him. It’s a miracle he’s still here at all. Tony pulls him closer, pressing kisses into his hair.
“I love you,” he whispers. “You’re safe, and you’re amazing, and you’re not going anywhere, because I love you.”
It’s a promise that makes no sense, but Peter sighs, content, and relaxes, so he keeps going, murmuring comforting babble until they both drift off, dreaming of anything other than fire.
5.
The first time Tony got engaged, it was with a ring Happy had in his pocket for almost a decade, and the whole thing was an excuse because Peter turned him down. This time, Peter has to say yes to his offer—he has to, or Tony may shatter—and the ring is brand spanking new. Tony spent the last year collecting scraps from the projects they’ve worked on together; suit upgrades and R&D, even the 1967 Corvette that was Peter’s first experience fixing one of Tony’s cars. Then he blended all the bits together, creating a simple band that boasts startling depth when you look close, no color and every color all at once.
It’s really great, if he does say so himself. Gorgeous, sentimental—and currently lost somewhere in the depths of the Prospect Park woods, because some idiot with poorly designed robots thought Proposal Day was the perfect time to try to take Peter and Tony by surprise. And some even bigger idiot (Tony, it’s Tony), managed to drop the thing in the fight.
“Tony, it’s fine,” Peter says as they tramp through the trees, Tony using his watch to scan for signs of metal. “I don’t need a ring.”
“You don’t understand,” Tony insists. “This ring is amazing. It’s a whole thing. I worked really—” He suddenly realizes what Peter just said, and pulls up short. “Wait, I never said we were looking for a ring.”
“Uh, nice picnic, you were weirdly nervous, now we’re looking for something small and metal and you didn’t say what it is. I’m not stupid.” Peter adds a grin. “Yes, by the way.”
Tony drops his arm, letting the scan die. “Yes, as in…yes?”
“Yes as in yes,” Peter agrees. He grabs Tony’s wrist, yanking him into his arms. “Now will you stop worrying about the ring and kiss me already?”
-
Tony does kiss him, but he doesn’t stop worrying about the ring. It takes another three days of searching, but he finds it. He even gets down on one knee to hand it over, even though that’s a little belated.
“It is really cool,” Peter admits later, lying in Tony’s arms on their couch, twisting the metal around his finger. “You were still being ridiculous about it, but I love it.”
“You’re the one who agreed to marry me,” Tony points out, lacing their fingers together. “Ridiculous is just something you have to live with.”
Peter tilts his head back, brushing his lips against Tony’s chin. “True. Very, very true.”
+1
Tony can see the panic in Peter’s eyes as Happy turns to him. Silence fills the room.
“Peter?” Happy prods. “Your vows.”
“I…I don’t have them,” Peter whispers, quiet enough that only Tony and a very concerned Happy can hear. He digs through his pockets. “I wrote this whole thing, but I must’ve lost it when Doc Ock attacked. Fuck. I can’t remember anything right now. I’m so sorry, Tony. I love you so much and I want to say everything right but I can’t, I just—”
“Calm down,” Tony murmurs, grabbing Peter’s hands, forcing him to stop his fruitless search. “I don’t care. Just say something to make the people happy.”
He tilts his head at their friends and family, who are starting to turn to each other, muttering.
Peter manages a wavering smile. He nods, straightening his shoulders. And then, loud enough that the audience can hear, he says, “I’m a mess, clearly.”
He pauses. Confused laughter fills the room.
“I lost my vows because a super villain wanted to mess with my wedding,” he continues. “My life is always a mess no matter what I do, and you’re the one person who really gets that. You don’t mind most of the time, and even when you do mind, you forgive me. And your life is kind of a mess, too, honestly. So I promise to keep forgiving you and loving you no matter how much of a mess you are, if you promise to do that for me. And…and, uh…” His eyes go wide, a little panicked, like he’s run out of steam. “Also the in sickness and in health and fidelity and all that stuff. Obviously. But mostly, I just want to be a mess with you, Tony Stark. We’re a really good mess together. So, um. Yeah. Those are my vows.”
Tony can’t think of anything more perfect.