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It’s early, much earlier than when Peter usually comes to the tower, but today he can’t quite help himself. It thrums under his skin like an itch he can’t scratch, and the desire to do something is more than he can handle. Swinging aimlessly around the city isn’t cutting it, but it just so happens that Stark Tower contains a gym that was built to withstand the likes of Captain America.
Naturally, that means Peter can easily destroy what’s in there if he isn’t careful, but it’s still a great place to go when he needs to work some frustration out.
He’s been at it for a good couple of hours, headphones in and music pounding in his ears as he hefts weights until it aches and then pounds out the miles on a treadmill, before he realizes that he’s not alone. Panting heavily, Peter pulls his headphones off and looks at the two people standing near the entrance to the gym.
“I’m guessing this means you’re unavailable this morning after all,” Pepper says. She’s as smartly dressed as ever, wearing a tailored white suit and heels so high that Peter is honestly unsure how she walks in them.
“I would say so,” Tony says, loosening his dark blue tie. “Sorry Pep.”
“Uh, what?” Peter says, hitting the button to stop the treadmill. “Wait, sorry, I didn’t mean – I just needed to use the gym, that’s all. You can go do whatever you need to do.”
They both look at him with identical ‘nice try’ expressions. Peter pouts at them and walks over to where he dropped his backpack. Pepper and Tony have a quiet conversation for a moment before Pepper departs, the faint click of her high heels slowly fading. That leaves Tony and Peter alone unless you count FRIDAY, and since she was probably the one who alerted Tony to Peter’s presence, Peter does not.
“Alright. I’ve been up all night and I’m starving, and I’m sure you could eat a second breakfast after that, so why don’t we order in before we talk about whatever’s bugging you?” Tony says. He’s got his tie all the way off now, dangling down one shoulder.
“You really don’t have to –” Peter begins, but Tony holds up a hand.
“Save it. You’re officially my excuse to not have to attend a hideously boring meeting. If you leave, I have to go. So you’re not going anywhere,” Tony says.
Peter huffs and tries his best not to smile at that. He knows that Tony’s just exaggerating, and that Tony really should be at that meeting and probably even wants to be at that meeting, but he can’t help loving the way that Tony blows things off so easily for Peter. It makes him feel warm inside, right down to the tip of his toes. He likes knowing that Tony prioritizes him so much.
“Alright, fine, but I’m going to order a super large breakfast,” Peter warns him.
Tony shrugs. “I expect no less. Let’s order and then you can shower.”
“I don’t need a shower.”
“Uh yeah, you do. You’re covered in sweat. I am not letting you sit on my $10,000 couch covered in sweat,” Tony says. “Shower. Then food. Then talking. In that order.”
“Rude,” Peter says, even though Aunt May would tell him exactly the same thing. Has told him exactly the same thing, minus the $10,000 couch part of course.
He slinks off to the locker room. Much as he hates to admit it, a hot shower really does feel amazing on his sore muscles. It’s even better when he emerges in a cloud of steam and finds clean clothing waiting on the counter for him. Comfortable sweatpants and a t-shirt and even boxers, brand new, in just Peter’s size. He’s glad Tony isn’t around, because he smiles stupidly the whole time he’s getting dressed.
When he gets to Tony’s floor, it’s to find a huge spread of food waiting. Peter’s stomach rumbles hungrily as he sinks down into a chair and grabs a sandwich. Tony ordered a mixture of breakfast and lunch foods, and Peter grabs a handful of hashbrowns as he crams half the sandwich in his mouth. It’s delicious, of course.
“Slow down, the food isn’t going to run away,” Tony says, emerging from the hallway. His suit is gone, replaced by more comfortable jeans and a muscle shirt. He walks over and pours himself a cup of hot coffee.
“I’m hungry,” Peter says through another mouthful of food, and takes another huge bite to prove it. Tony sighs and rolls his eyes as he takes a seat.
After Peter has devoured two sandwiches and is working on his third, Tony turns to him and says, “So, not that I mind you dropping by, but what’s with the early morning gym session?”
“Just felt like working out,” Peter says evasively.
Tony gives him a look. “Come on, kid. I wasn’t born yesterday. Give me some credit, at least.”
Peter sulks into a glass of orange juice, trying to decide how he wants to bring this up. He really doesn’t want to talk about it, but it’s clear that Tony isn’t going to let it go. And the really annoying part of it is, Tony is the person who would understand the best. Or at least the person who could understand the best. Maybe. Peter really isn’t that sure.
“Peter?” Tony prompts gently.
“You know MJ and I broke up,” Peter says finally. It was an amicable parting, but it still stings a bit to talk about it. There was a time, not too long ago, when Peter thought he and MJ might just be forever. He’d privately entertained some dreams about the two of them going to university together, sharing an apartment, the whole works.
But then came the day when MJ got her admissions notice from a university in Europe. She hadn’t really thought she would get in – she had applied as more of a whim than anything. Peter remembers the day she found out like it was yesterday. He’s never seen MJ that excited about anything. He’d known, in that moment, that she was going and that things were over.
They had still talked about it at length, trying to figure out what that meant, but ultimately they had unanimously that trying to be long distance wasn’t really feasible. Peter couldn’t leave New York – didn’t want to leave New York – and MJ was determined to go to Europe. There was nothing he could do but support her.
“Of course,” Tony says, nodding. “What is it? You’re getting back together? You want to take me up on my offer to fly you both back and forth whenever you want?” He looks two seconds away from telling FRIDAY to prepare the jet, and Peter smiles.
“No. MJ loves it in Europe, and it would just be too hard,” Peter says, shaking his head. “Honestly, I’m not even sure if she’ll will come back after she graduates. And I don’t really want to leave New York.”
“Kid, you don’t have to stay here just because you’re Spider-Man,” Tony begins.
“I know. You’ve already given me the speech,” Peter says. He can’t help the way he feels. Spider-Man belongs in New York. There’s just no getting around that. And really, Peter’s okay with that. Maybe someday MJ will come back and they’ll pick things back up, or maybe she won’t, but either way he’s here where he belongs.
“Sooooooo…” Tony draws out the word, eyebrows furrowing in confusion. It makes him look a little ridiculous, and Peter feels a pang of affection. It gives him the courage to actually say the next part out loud.
“There’s this guy,” he says awkwardly, and wishes the ground would open up and swallow him when the confusion vanishes from Tony’s face to be replaced by a huge grin.
“A guy?” Tony repeats, leaning forward and propping his chin on his hand, looking at Peter like Peter’s the most fascinating thing in the world. Peter feels himself blushing and scowls, quickly taking a big gulp of orange juice. It does nothing to cool the heat in his face.
“Yeah. A guy,” Peter mumbles. “In a few of my classes. He’s, um, pretty cool.”
“Is this guy cool the way that you first thought MJ was cool?” Tony wants to know, and Peter sighs.
“He’s… different from MJ, but yeah. I guess you could say that,” Peter says. “I don’t like, wanna jump him or anything. Still nothing down below.”
It’s amusing to watch the way that Tony’s face contorts at that. Peter hides his smirk with another gulp of orange juice.
“Right,” Tony says after a moment. “But… you like him like you liked MJ.”
“That’s a lot of likes in one sentence,” Peter mutters. “I dunno. He’s cool. We recently got partnered together on a project. He’s really smart and we worked great together. Spending time with him is… it’s nice. Different from MJ, but kind of the same.”
And god, did it ever throw Peter for a loop once he figured that out. He’s been dwelling over this for the past three weeks. Trying to figure out what it means and how it changes things. He’s always thought of himself as straight, or as straight as a guy who isn’t interested in sex can be, so it’s really weird to find himself thinking about holding hands with or kissing a guy.
Tony looks at him very seriously. “You know that’s okay, right? If you wanted to date a boy?”
“I know,” Peter says, but the reminder makes him feel good anyway. He’s seen a few of his classmates come out to their parents. Sometimes it goes well. Sometimes it doesn’t. Peter is lucky to have Tony and Aunt May in his corner, he knows. There’s nothing he could do that would make either of them turn their backs on him.
Well, nothing but setting the two of them up on another date. That would probably get him cut off. But Peter’s already promised about five billion times to never do that again.
“Then what’s the problem? I assume there must be a problem, considering how hard you were going at the gym today,” Tony says.
“I dunno. I just feel… weird about it,” Peter mumbles. “I know I’m probably… ace. But like. I thought that for dating I was just, you know. Just girls. And now…”
Tony exhales, nodding. “I get it. It’s never easy learning a new thing about yourself, especially a new thing like this. But it doesn’t have to be a big deal if you don’t want it to be.”
Peter contemplates that for a few seconds before he says, “It feels like a big deal, but I don’t want it to be.”
“That’s fair,” Tony says, nodding. “Well… you don’t have to do anything about it if you don’t want to. You don’t have to have date guys. Or girls. Or anyone, really.”
“Yeah, I know,” Peter says again, smiling a little. Tony smiles back.
They’re quiet for a few minutes after that. Tony is nursing his precious coffee and Peter works his way through another two sandwiches. He feels good, better for both having eaten and for having had the chance to tell someone what’s been weighing him down for so long.
“So tell me about him,” Tony says finally, breaking the silence. “What’s his name? What do his parents do? You said he’s smart?”
Peter nods. “His name is Harry. Harry Osborn. I’m sure you know his dad.”
“Oh yeah,” Tony says, nodding. “Stark Industries has done some work with Oscorp. Norman Oscorp is a little…” Tony raises his eyebrows and makes a face.
“Harry’s not like that,” Peter says quickly. “He mentioned his dad once. They didn’t seem to get along.”
“Understandable. Norman’s a jackass.” Tony takes another drink of his coffee. “I’ve never met his kid though. What’s he look like?”
Peter digs into his pocket and produces his Starkphone. He has a handful of pictures of Harry, mostly dumb selfies that they took together, but also a couple that Peter stole from social media. Tony leans over to look, and smiles when he sees them.
“He looks like a nice guy,” Tony says.
“He is.” Peter looks at the picture for a long moment, his stomach fluttering. When he finally looks away, it’s to find Tony watching him with a knowing smile.
“You know, kid, discovering something new about yourself isn’t always a bad thing,” he says gently. “It can be a good thing too, when you expand your world in new ways.”
“But what if Harry’s the only guy I’m ever interested in?” Peter says. “Am I straight? Bisexual? Does this make me gay?”
“I think that’s only something you can figure out,” Tony says after a slight pause. “Whatever label you want to use for yourself is the best one… and that’s if you even want to use one, because you also don’t have to. And if you do, you can change it too, you know. You’re not beholden to one label forever just because it suited you for a time.”
“I just want to know,” Peter whines, pouting, and Tony laughs. He reaches out and wraps an arm around Peter’s shoulders, pulling Peter into a half-hug. Peter turns towards him, turning it into a full hug.
“I know you do. I’m sorry. This shit should be easy, but it’s not,” Tony says. “But whatever you decide, your aunt and I will be behind you.”
“I know,” Peter whispers, closing his eyes. He’s quiet for a few seconds, enjoying the warmth and comfort of the hug, before the question burning in his brain finally bursts out.
“How do you ask out a dude?”