Chapter Text
“My life is a lie.”
Tony looked up at Peter. “Could you be more specific, honey?”
Peter gestured vaguely at where Tony was sitting in front of the computer. “My Life. It’s a lie.”
“Ok.” Tony paused. “Is that a problem? We’ve talked about you going public before and you said you didn’t want that kind of publicity.”
“I have been lied to.”
Tony turned around to fully face him. Those words were never good for his health or relationships. “Honey?”
Peter was still looking at him, slack jawed.
“Ok,” Tony held up two fingers. “One, I have not lied to you. Two I abjectly apologize for whatever I lied to you about.”
Peter stepped forward and wrapped both hands around Tony’s fingers. The spider-bit related stickiness of Peter’s finger pads raised goosebumps as Peter rubbed their fingers together.
“You can’t type.”
Tony pouted but didn’t pull away from Peter’s warmth. “I can.” He jerked his head toward the keyboard. “I was just typing.”
“With two fingers.”
“Four, technically.”
Peter laughed. “You never learned to touch type. What did you do before you had Jarvis?”
“I had a secretary. She did all the typing.”
Tony watched Peter blow out a breath like he always did when the sheer difference of their age and upbringing hit him again. Tony wrapped an arm around Peter’s hips wanting to ground him in what they had together now.
“Did you invent the holographic displays just so you won’t have to learn?”
“No, but saying that, I did it to win a drunken bet doesn’t sound any better.”
Peter snorted. “You never played the typing game with the cat or had a cardboard box over your hands so you couldn’t see the keys.”
Peter slid his fingers along Tony’s ring finger, then his pinky. Tony caressed Peter’s hip trying to distract him. Peter’s gentle fingers couldn’t make the finger straighten completely, the joint too stubborn.
Peter frowned. “What happened?”
Tony shrugged. “Life.” Seeing Peter getting upset Tony continued. “I’m not the best at lab safety. Dad wasn’t either, come to think of it. I broke it three times before I was nine.”
Peter turned his palm over seeking out the small scars and, Tony swallowed, imperfections a life of applied robots had left there. After an eternity Peter kissed the heel of his hand and let it drop.
Peter grinned at him. “I still can’t believe the great Tony Stark has to hunt and peck at a keyboard.”