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His phone vibrated with a new notification, and Peter picked it up from the table to see what it was. New Notification from CashApp. Peter tapped to launch the app and grinned when he saw that Tony had sent him some money.
Tony S. sent you $3000
get yourself something nice <3
It had taken awhile for Peter to get used to Tony sending such large amounts of money. When he had first made a profile on the Sugar dating app, Peter had put that he was only looking for $5000 a month - just enough to cover his portion on the rent, his other bills, and food. Everything for school was covered by his scholarship, thankfully. He had been matched with Tony almost right away, a business man from Manhattan, they had talked for a little while before Peter accepted his offer of being his Sugar Daddy (and god Peter hated calling him that. He didn’t need a daddy.) and Tony’s first payment was for $10,000. The number had made Peter nearly drop his phone when that first CashApp notification came through.
Every Sugar Daddy or Mama on the app had to be vetted and verified before they could begin searching for a Baby, so Peter knew that the money would be legit, but the fact that someone could send that amount of money in one installment was sort of mind blowing. Peter was careful with it, though, despite the promise of much more. He paid his bills, got groceries, and bought some new shoes since his Converse were getting a little holy, and winter was fast approaching. The rest he kept in CashApp, as a nest egg.
Sugaring hadn’t been his first idea, hell, it hadn’t even been his idea period. His last job fired him just before the new semester began; Peter suspected they didn’t want to deal with his class schedule. Job searching was stressful and annoying and while throwing himself a pity party at their weekly pizza night, MJ suggested the app. Ned agreed, of course. Peter was a bit skeptical, it didn’t seem like MJ’s thing, why would she know about it?
"One of the girls in my poetry class is on there, besides, think about how many rich assholes you could get money from. Think of it as redistributing their wealth."
And well…that was a pretty solid argument. Later that night after they had left, and Peter was tucked into his own room to avoid his roommates, he downloaded the app. Peter carefully read through the user agreement, the app’s rules, it’s features, and then finally hit "complete profile" after spending an hour agonizing over what to put in each prompted section. It was simple, and probably not that appealing to most looking for a Sugar Baby, but he hoped it caught someone’s eye.
Peter 20 NYC
Interested In: Daddies, Mamas
Payments: Monthly
Desired Amount: $5000
Sexting: No
Nudes: No
Phone Calls: No
Meet-Ups: No
His photo was a side profile of him laughing, taken by MJ over the summer. It showed only part of his face, most of it obscured by the angle and the way his head was thrown back with a laugh. The lack of offered sugar made him a little nervous, but Peter kept his fingers crossed for someone out there who got off on just the spoiling part - maybe some old guy who couldn’t get it up anymore.
What - or rather, who - had found him definitely wasn’t some old guy who couldn’t get it up anymore (at least, Peter assumed that last part was true). Two days after making his account, Peter was shown Tony, 42, from New York. His profile photo was a shot of the Manhattan sky line from probably an office building, and there was a slight reflection of the man in the window, but not enough to make out a face. His profile listed him as a businessman, and under Amount Willing to Pay he had chosen the option of Negotiable. They had talked for almost two hours before Peter had agreed to send Tony his CashApp.
Now, after nearly eight months of talking almost daily, monthly deposits of $5000, just as Peter had originally asked, and many many other deposits of varying amounts whenever Tony felt like it, Peter didn’t feel so guilty every time a new CashApp notification came through. Smiling, he switched over to the text app - the kind that gave you a fake number - and typed out a message to Tony.
thank you 😊
you’re welcome
and i’m serious - get yourself
something actually nice
this time
hey! those switch controllers *were* nice! 😠
sure sure. 🙄
meany 😔
Suddenly, a new drop down notification popped up CashApp: Tony S. sent you $1000
TONY!
😉
ugh you’re impossible
i just want you to get yourself
something nice, sweetheart.
preferably something you can
wear
why 😒🤨
i want to take you out
to dinner
i know you have a no meet
up policy
but i really have loved talking to
you
and spoiling you all these months
and i would really like to get to
know you for real.
peter, please come to dinner with me
Peter sat back in the uncomfortable chair at the study desk in the campus library. He tapped his phone against his chin as he thought about Tony’s request. Saying no meet-ups had been a smart choice on Peter’s part when he made his profile all those months ago, it had kept almost everyone away from his profile. After Tony, there had only been a handful of others who had tried to contact him, but Peter enjoyed talking to Tony by that point and had put his profile on pause and deleted the app. So far, he hadn’t needed to redownload it.
Tony was smart and funny, sarcastic in a witty way, not in a mean way, and was very generous with his money. Peter had never been so financially secure in his entire life. Even when Ben and May had been alive, they had struggled a lot, but now Peter was able to afford all his bills and treat himself to the things he wanted with money to spare. Talking with the man everyday was easy, he kept up with Peter when he rambled about his classes and labs, lent a listening ear when Peter needed to vent about something, and Peter almost felt like they had known each other a long time with how easily they got along. But that was all over texts. What if they met and it was obvious they weren’t compatible?
Peter wasn’t totally opposed to the idea of dinner with Tony, of course. The last few months felt like they were crawling towards something more than just a sugar arrangement, but Peter didn’t want to let himself hope. Sometimes, Tony just seemed too good to be true. He sat there ignoring his lab write up, staring at the stain on the wall while his thoughts swirled. No new messages had come in, Tony knew that sometimes Peter needed a bit to think about things, or that he was busy with classes and couldn’t answer right away, and Tony always respected that and didn’t spam him to answer.
"Fuck it," Peter muttered, typed out his message and hit send.
okay.
The restaurant that Tony had picked was on the Upper East Side, almost directly across from Central Park. It was fancy, not black tie, but still fancy enough to have Peter standing out front wondering what the hell he was doing. He was glad he had taken Tony’s suggestion of getting himself something nice - a pair of slim fit black slacks, a dark green button down, and new loafers. Taking a deep breath, Peter stepped forward and pulled the door open. The maître d’ welcomed him in with a polite smile and asked if he had a reservation.
"Oh, uh, no. I’m meeting someone - Tony?" The man had told Peter that the staff would know who he was by just his first name, and Peter hoped he was right, he didn’t want to make a fool of himself.
"Ah, yes, of course!" The man moved from behind his podium with a sweeping arm. "If you’ll follow me."
Peter trailed along behind the man as they weaved passed several tables. There wasn’t many in the place - it was small and intimate. They were filled with, what appeared to be, couples enjoying their meals or talking quietly over candlelight. It was a very nice place. The man came to a stop next to a small partition, one that afforded the diners of this table some privacy, and gestured to the table. "Enjoy, sirs." Peter didn’t see him leave, too focused on the man now standing next to the table. Tony Stark.
Tony Stark was smiling at him. Smiling at Peter.
Holy shit.
His Tony was Tony Stark? Peter felt like he was going to throw up.
"Hi," The older man said softly. "I, uh…are you alright?"
"Holy shit."
"Here, have a seat, Peter, you look a little pale," Tony hurried to pull out his chair and Peter all but collapsed into it. "I- uh-"
"You’re Tony Stark."
Tony nodded. "Yes, I am."
"This is not happening…this is a dream, right?" Peter’s voice was barely above a whisper. "This is definitely a dream."
"Uh, no, sorry," Tony did look genuinely apologetic. "Not a dream, sweetheart. I’m sorry I didn’t give you a heads up, but I didn’t want you to think…well, that doesn’t matter. But I am sorry I didn’t tell you and made you walk into this blind."
"I…I wrote an essay about your arc reactor technology that earned me one of my scholarships." Peter blurted.
Tony’s face lit up. "Really?" He leaned forward, elbows on the table. "Tell me about it."
The lure of science pulled Peter from his shock, and he scooted his chair in and sat up a bit straighter. He dove into the thesis of his paper and which aspects of the arc reactor tech he had focused on. They were interrupted briefly by the waiter, and Peter let Tony order for him, a little overwhelmed at the menu being in French. Once the waiter was gone, Peter hesitated to start talking again. The interruption having messed up his flow just slightly.
"Um," Peter fiddled with the corner of his cloth napkin. "You weren’t what I was expecting when I walked in here."
"I know, and I am sorry I didn’t tell you before," Tony took a sip of his cocktail.
"It’s okay, I mean, I haven’t told you my last name, either," He tried for a bit of humor, and was pleased when Tony chuckled.
"That’s true."
"Parker."
"Peter Parker," Tony said. "It suits you."
Peter blushed, ducking his head to hide his flaming cheeks. He could feel how hot they were, and it just added to his embarrassment. This was Tony Stark, his childhood tech and science hero! And he had been Peter’s sugar daddy for the last eight months. Peter’s head was still spinning over that one. He reached for his own glass, a simple club soda with lime since he wasn’t even of drinking age yet, god. Maybe agreeing to meet was a bad idea. The age difference didn’t seem so bad when it was all over text, but what if Tony realized he was just some weird college kid and didn’t want to deal with that?
"You’re spiraling, sweetheart," Tony murmured. "Talk to me."
Peter bit his lip. "I just, I’ve looked up to you for years. I would beg my uncle to get me the latest issue of Science Monthly whenever you were on the cover. I soaked up everything I could about your tech and your contributions to science and engineering," He anxiously straightened his silverware on the cloth covered table. "I never thought I’d have the opportunity to meet you, and yet, we’ve been talking for eight months…it’s a little surreal."
"How about we play twenty questions?" Tony suggested, after a brief pause. "We can ask each other about things that haven’t come up in our texts, and it will give me an opportunity to show you that I’m interested in getting to know you beyond a transactional relationship."
Peter was quite for a minute, thinking it over. Their food arrived, and Tony went through the motions of putting his napkin in his lap and picking up his cutlery, in an effort to give Peter the time he needed to think. Just like in their texts. Peter bit his lip absentmindedly while he thought. Finally, he picked up his own fork and said:
"Favorite 80’s movie?"
Tony grinned across the table at him.