Chapter Text
The bed was cold when Peter woke the next morning.
Cold, but not empty.
A pile of bank documents lay on top of Tony’s pillow. No note attached – unless several post-its with the words “sign here” counted.
Peter read over the documents alone in his multi-million dollar apartment with the blinds down. Signing would make him a co-owner of Tony’s accounts. The balance wasn’t listed, but behind the ownership documents were sign-offs for new unlimited lines of credit in Peter’s name.
Peter hadn’t even known there was such a thing as unlimited credit.
He called Tony.
“Hear me out,” Tony said as soon as the call connected. “This is just like May’s medical bills.”
“How?”
“Your Aunt’s old boss screwed her out of what she’d worked for, so I fixed the damage. This is me doing the same for you.”
“But I’m fine. I’m–“
“NYU is pulling your scholarship.”
The words hit Peter like a punch to the gut. His vision blurred and he felt the blood run from his brain. He sat down, hard, on a kitchen stool. Tony was still talking to him, but the words were indistinguishable. Completely obscured by the white noise of panic running through him.
His scholarship.
The one he’d spent years fighting for, pulling weeks of all-nighters to ensure he stayed in the city’s top percentile. Padding his resume with debate team and volunteer work, on top of his jobs and Spider-Man. His scholarship. The one he and May had cried over, together, when it had come through. The one that had been set to get him through college, miraculously, with ‘only’ 20 grand of student debt.
Gone.
“–but you told me to tell you before I pull shit. So I put the foundation on hold, and figured we could just pay this all out of pocket. Out of your pocket, if you’ll let me–”
“Wait, what?”
Tony was silent for a beat. “You missed everything I said, huh?”
“I… what?”
Tony let out a sad sigh, and Peter desperately wished they were having this conversation in person.
“The scholarship is gone, babe.”
“But why… how can they do this?”
“It’s the apartment. It’s legally in your name, and when they… found out about your change of address, they decided to re-evaluate your financial status. You don’t qualify for aid anymore.”
Oh.
“But an apartment doesn’t pay for, like, tuition. Or food. Or just… anything else. I quit my jobs. Just because I’m living here–”
“They don’t see it that way. So, either we fight them, which I’m happy to do, or we just give them money. In this case, I think paying them off is the better option.”
Peter squeezed his eyes shut and tried to swallow back the lump in his throat. He knew Tony was just trying to help but, fuck, if didn’t feel like someone had just pulled the rug out from under him.
“You said something about a foundation?” he said, trying to piece together Tony’s earlier spiel.
“I uh-” Tony started, before clearing his throat awkwardly. Peter heard him fidget with something on his desk. “My first thought was to set up a foundation under SI that could just give you a new scholarship.”
“Are you kidding me–”
“But, I remembered you told me to just ask you before I did shit. So, I shelved the scholarship idea and instead I’m asking. This is me asking, okay? Let me do this for you. Let me fix this.”
Peter looked down at the bank documents Tony had provided. It was too much. He couldn’t imagine having total access to Tony’s money; he didn’t want the responsibility that came with that.
“Can’t you just… pay my tuition? And give me something for expenses?”
Tony made no reply for a long moment. Long enough for Peter to feel antsy. Because really, what kind of person said no to a fortune?
“Those documents would give you more security,” Tony said, eventually. “I wouldn’t be able to take away your access without your consent. So if… if things don’t work out, you’ll be able to look out for yourself.”
If things don’t work out?
“Are you breaking up with me?” Peter said instinctively, irrationally.
“Jesus, Peter, no. People don’t hand over billions of dollars as a parting gift. No. Definitely not breaking up with you.”
“Billions?” Peter let out a croak of a laugh. “Right, yeah, of course, right. Sorry.”
“I just– you should have the freedom.”
Peter understood Tony’s motivation, in theory – but he hated it. Because Tony was family, now, and Peter couldn’t imagine a world in which he wouldn’t be. Couldn’t imagine a world in which he’d choose to stop taking Tony’s support. Or in which Tony would stop giving it, even if they stopped dating.
But maybe Tony needed that reassurance. Maybe this wasn’t just about Peter. Maybe this was one of those points of compromise MJ kept talking about.
“Is that… is that ‘freedom’ important for you?”
“Yes,” Tony answered immediately.
Okay. Compromise it is, then.
“Alright, alright,” Peter tried to bring his mind into focus. Tried to think of a way this would work for both of them. “Could you set it up in a way that… I dunno, lets me have access up to a certain limit? And a set time-frame? That way you’ll know I’ll be able to cover tuition and expenses for… well, however long you think.”
“So no limits and forever?”
“Tony–”
“What?” Tony said stubbornly. “That’s what you deserve.”
Peter sighed. “I’m not saying no, Tony. But the idea of being responsible for, like, an infinite amount of money freaks me out. I don’t want to be on the Forbes list or–”
“Those lists are bullshit PR–”
“Well, whatever. You get my point. I get that you want me to have that extra cushion, but I– I’m trying to compromise here. I already trust you to support me — I don’t see why we need to do all this, especially since it will inevitably end up in the Bugle.”
Tony was silent, but for a pen tapping contemplatively.
“Is this a kink thing?” he said
Peter definitely hadn’t seen the conversation going this direction.
“What? A- a what?”
“You know,” Tony said, voice oddly detached and casual. “‘Pay for me, own me, control me.’ Are you trying to tell me you have an ownership kink? That you’re into the whole codependent, power transfer thing?”
“That’s a thing?”
Tony let out a gust of air, and Peter heard more rustling in the background. Peter genuinely has no idea how to continue this conversation.
“Yes. It’s a thing,” Tony said, at last. “Is it your thing?”
“Is it yours?” Peter volleyed back.
“Not necessarily.”
“Okay, well…” Peter still didn’t know what to say. “Ditto?”
Tony was quiet for another long minute. Peter started counting his breaths to keep himself from speaking.
“So,” Tony said eventually. “You want me to control your finances, but not in a kinky way. Honestly, that may be worse.”
Peter sighed. “No,” he said, emphatically. “I don’t want you to control anything. What I want is the scholarship I dedicated years of my life to getting. But, given that’s not an option, I am happy to accept your support – which doesn’t have to mean access to all your money. I love May, and I’d help her with anything, but we still have separate bank accounts. See where I’m going with this?”
“Yeah.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah — you want a daddy.” Tony’s voice was hard. Angry.
Peter genuinely considered throwing his phone out the window. He heard it crack slightly in his hand, so he put it down and just let himself breathe.
And breathe.
And breathe.
“Peter?” came Tony’s voice.
Peter finally picked up his phone. “If you were anyone else I would have hung up.”