Archive of Our Own ^beta

It just sort of ... happened.

-o-

Everyone knew Peter Parker was a sneaky bastard with his camera. No matter what you were doing, good or bad, he’d manage to snap you at the perfect moment and then proceed to upload it to Instagram or whatever hipster site the kid was on at the time.

Thing was, no-one could bitch at him for it because gosh darn it, his smile could melt glaciers. He’d flash it at you once and you’d cave into him, allow him to upload whatever shitty picture he’d snapped, and then wait for the inevitable shitstorm that followed. Sometimes these pictures were great: he’d caught a brilliant action shot of the school’s resident athlete, Thor Odinson, in the process of celebrating a recent victory in glorious jubilation. That got, Peter counted that very same night, over forty thousand likes on his Instagram page. His friend, MJ, teased him about how hipster he’d become.

“Next thing you know you’ll be braiding your hair and smoking crack,” she said in amusement, twirling her charity band on one finger. Peter had scowled and reminded MJ that the people she had described were hippies, not hipsters.

And he was most certainly not a hipster, goddammit!

Peter became something akin to a worldwide sensation with people from all around the globe subscribing to his pages about the daily antics at his high school - why they were so interested in his middle-of-New-York-city school was beyond him, but he wasn't going to complain.

Sometimes he’d turn up in school looking a little worse for wear after a whole evening of snapping and uploading, and sometimes he’d received threats from the resident bullies of the school about not having a nose the next day but the kid took it all in his stride.

In retaliation to the threats, Peter often quoted 'A Very Potter Musical', but no-one ever seemed to notice that. Peter wiped away his pretend tears often.

-o-

There were always certain people he wanted to get within his photo album. Something of a local pyrotechnic and mad genius at the age of seventeen, Tony Stark was probably the most photogenic git Peter had ever met – even when he pulled the most unattractive faces, he seemed to get people gushing over him. 

The second guy Peter loved to photograph went by the name of Steve Rogers, a man as sweet as a fifty-cent mix-up with the body of fucking Adonis. Even Peter had had his fair share of gawking when the guy went to a pool party hosted by Tony one summer evening. Literally everyone drooled. Don't get Peter wrong, Thor was pretty nicely filled out too, but hot damn, Steve Rogers in general. 

Steve Rogers never seemed to pull a bad face. He had a blindingly white smile that wasn’t tainted by dentist bleach, an awkwardly innocent sense of humour, and one of the loveliest temperaments Peter had ever gotten to know – the rumours about Steve saving a kitten from a tree were true, people! 

Peter secretly thought he and Tony were perfect for each other – he’d made his own little club online with the central aim of getting them together. Needless to say, it had grown into something much much larger – it was more like a fanbase now. 

Seriously, Steve was like a really hot version of someone’s strict grandma with Tony. Whenever Tony was sarcastic or rude towards anyone, all Steve had to do was say his name in a tone of voice that had girls and guys alike gushing, and – oh look, Tony Stark can shut his mouth! Whenever Tony put his hand up to flip the bird, Steve just placed his own over Tony’s and smiled pleasantly.

Whenever Steve got confused with his trigonometry– quite possibly the easiest thing on earth, Steve – Tony would patiently explain it in simpler terms using bumblebees and Pop-Tarts and a rubber band.

Peter was wise not to ask how that linked in.

Whenever Steve got all flustered about his body and how girls wouldn’t stop hitting on him (apparently the guy had just tripped over his puberty wallowing on the floor in turtle mode and suddenly swallowed it at once in the summer holidays) Tony would calmly say that it was perfectly alright and then take Steve out to eat a shit-ton of ice cream and then back to his house for Pop-Tarts, popcorn, and pizza.

-o-

It’s ridiculous, Peter typed to Carol Danvers one evening as he waited for a new swathe of photos to upload. It’s like, dudes! UST everywhere!

u read too much fanfiction Peter

But Carolllllllllllll.

oh hush u uncultured swine.  i know they’re dancing pansies–  i just don’t think they realise they like each other

Wat.

like Tony doesn’t realise he likes Steve. T may be a genius eighty percent of the time but I swear the twenty other percent his brain is just made up of food, algorithms and Steve’s arse

Do he got the booty ...

NO.

But.

night webhead

Peter pouted from behind his desktop and flipped back to his documents to see whether his one hundred and thirty-eight photos had finished transferring.

When no such luck occurred, he went back to his Instagram account on his iPad, ignored the influx of ‘likes, follows, comments’, and checked his home feed. Jane had uploaded one of her, Darcy and Thor sat around a campfire roasting S’mores over the flames.

Peter liked it and scrolled down. He grinned. Steve very rarely updated the Instagram account Tony had made for him and so Peter guessed this was through the latter’s doing: it was a picture of Steve sat on Tony’s bed staring intently at the television, almost as though he was squinting.

Man_With_A_Plan: Steve is a Trekkie now. #awyiss #mother #fukin #startrek #tonyrules #ehehe #vulcans #ssenterprise #spirk #gaaaaaaay

Peter typed in a comment.

Guyssssss stop with the UST it’s painful for your fandom.

It didn’t take long for a reply.

what are we meant to be doing with milk

Peter grinned. Steve had obviously wrestled his phone off Tony and was most likely trying to delete the photo.

Bless him though.

Poor sod didn’t even know what UST was – he thought it was highly pasteurised milk.

-o-

web_head: oh Tony you're looking fine on that motorbike. 

The_Starkster: @web_head I like this man can I have this framed and hung on my wall of honours.

web_head: @The_Starkster Just as long as you admit your love for Steve

The_Starkster: @web_head I always tell Steve I love him you knob I tell everyone that

WarMachineRoks: @The_Starkster ADMIT YOUR LOVE FOR STEVE MAN

TheMarvelousDanvers: @The_Starkster ADMIT IT

ItsSmashinTime: @The_Starkster C’MON TONY ADMIT IT EVERYONE IN THE WORLD KNOWS YOU TWO LOVE EACH OTHER.

CawCawMotherfuckers: @The_Starkster EVERYBODY WAS KUNG FU FIGHTING. DEM ASSES WERE FAST AS LIGHTNING. TONY DOESN'T KNOW UST WHEN HE SEE'S IT, PETER PARKER IS A BIG GIT.

The_Starkster: I don’t know what’s going on.

Pedrothetacocat: I have tacos

web_head: @Pedrothetacocat please now isn’t the time

Pedrothetacocat: tacos and sombrero’s for the happy couple

web_head: see @The_Starkster even taco cat ships you

-o-

Tony lolled upside down on his bed one evening whilst Steve watched another classic Trek, moodily perusing his Facebook account. He received an e-mail at the same moment Steve sighed, muttering something about Spock and Kirk’s obvious love for each other and opened it up, grinning fondly.

Tony,

Dude, I don’t even know you and I come from like, the dark depths of England and you and Steve need to hook up. Like, honestly? This shit has gone on long enough man. The whole world is waiting for you to fucking resolve your UST. Your e-mail has now gone worldwide so it’s either your inbox is spammed or you fucking plant one on your gorgeous guy.

Yours sincerely.

Me,

Vive la Gayvelution.

Tony couldn’t help a grin spread across his face as he glanced over at Steve. The guy was like a gigantic, adorable puppy with quite possibly the most amazing taste in music Tony had ever heard. However, he was seriously behind in his television show knowledge, so he had a large collection of DVD’s to watch. Currently, he’d made his way up to the Seventh Doctor, the second series of  ‘Allo ‘Allo, Blackadder the Third, the fourth season of Supernatural and the third series of Merlin. He still had The Big Bang Theory, Sherlock, Agent Carter, Hannibal, The Musketeers and Two Broke Girls to watch.

Steve spent a lot of time around Tony’s house. He glanced back to his inbox as seven more e-mails filtered through.

Tony,

I’m a straight guy and I think you should hook up with Harvard Hottie, okay? You guys are an internet phenomenon and even have your own shipping name. If that’s not proof you’re destined then I don’t know what is. Tumblr’s like, kabloomy-ing with all of the pictures Parker keeps getting of you two.

And seriously, if giving him a classic war-era Harley Davidson isn’t love then fuck me sideways and call me a virgin nun.

Fuck you two and your bloody adorable-ness.

Bendywhistle Crumpetbuns.

Tony smiled and turned off his phone. He shifted back up onto his bed, tucked his head into Steve's lap, and drifted off to sleep. 

-o-

“Do you realise my name’s everywhere?” Steve asked one evening, sounding awfully distressed as he scooped ice-cream out of his container. Tony grinned, digging his toes into the sand and waving to Clint who’d just managed to stand on his surfboard and catch a wave.

“Whaddya mean?”

“I mean, I went out last night to get a book from the library and research something on their database, and the most searched topic that evening was me.”

“Maybe there was a famous ladies man called Steve Rogers.” Tony teased gently, sighing as his back twinged. Steve noticed the sad sound and his eyes softened.

“You not feeling well?” he asked quietly. Tony shook his head, scooping more ice-cream into his mouth to cool the hot throbbing of his throat. He then put his head on Steve’s shoulder and closed his eyes, basking in the warmth of the setting sun. Steve sunk his hand into Tony's hair and tried to help soothe the headache Tony had. They stayed silent for a while until Tony smiled into Steve’s shoulder.

“Give it an hour and this’ll be on Peter’s Instagram.”

“I know.”

-o-

Steve reckoned the only thing that was keeping Tony afloat from his own demons were people who commented on Peter’s photos. Late at night whilst he finished another series or season, Tony would sit and smile softly at e-mails that flooded into his inbox. Those were usually the night when Tony would quickly fall asleep and Steve would tuck him in before leaving quietly and bidding his goodbyes to a distressed and consistently worried Howard and Maria.

“Ellie seems nice,” Tony said one night as he curled up into Steve and blinked heavy eyes at the television “Her and Ana said that they want to meet us one day if we all get the chance – they’re from Switzerland you know, but they speak fluent English.”

“I’m sure we can go,” Steve replied warmly, running his fingers through Tony’s short hair. Tony closed his eyes, allowing his tired body to sink into the heat of Steve’s stomach and chest. He was always so exhausted nowadays and found it hard to focus at school. He turned around, winding arms around Steve's waist and breathing in his familiar, comforting scent of leather, sketch paper, and the underlying smell that was just uniquely 'Steve'. 

Steve stuck beside him, was his constant companion, and had never once thought about turning away.

-o-

Peter Parker looked through his photos the next evening, wondering whether any of his good ones turned out well. His previous ‘Stony’ image had earnt him Instagram and Twitter fame and so he hoped these new ones would be pretty decent.

What he saw broke his heart.

-o-

The moment Tony was absent in class, people got concerned. He’d never had a day off school since he started in freshman year. Steve was still there though, sat next to all of the empty spots but looking happy nevertheless. People asked him where Tony was and he replied that he was just sick, catching Peter’s sad eyes in the crowds. He gave the young kid a melancholic look and took him to one side quietly.

“You know, I take it?”

“I don’t know, but I know.”

“I’ll take that as a ‘no I didn’t know Tony had cancer.”

Peter swallowed and ran a hand briefly through his dark hair, fixing his glasses awkwardly. His hands shook. Steve smiled guiltily at his bluntness, swinging his legs back and forth. “Look, Steve ... if I caused this ...”

“Jesus, Peter!” Steve exclaimed, head jerking up in shock, “what made you think you gave Tony cancer?”

“Well you know ... I never give you guy’s privacy or anything. It’s pretty rude of me, come to think of it.” Peter said in a small voice, fiddling with the camera looped around his neck. He was playing with the dials absently, ruining the functioning aperture settings in his nervousness. Steve could see a tremble in the slender, clever fingers.

Steve then sighed gently and shook his head. Tension bled from his tightly drawn shoulders and he looked up at the blue, blue sky. 

“You didn’t give Tony cancer, Peter. I think that’s pretty laughable really – I think Tony will be amused to hear it. No. It’s just normal cancer that everyday people get – the stress Tony’s been putting himself through however at school hasn’t helped.”

“But I invaded his space and everything ...” Peter murmured. Steve clapped Peter on the back gently.

“Peter, you’re the one who practically saved his life,” Steve said softly, getting the guy to look him in the eyes. His glasses were too big for him, but there was a flicker of certainty in those irises now.

“Tony was honestly thinking about not going through with the chemotherapy and just letting the cancer eventually take over his body. But with you taking those pictures, he’s had a flood of emails coming through telling him how great he is and how he should totally live life – albeit it’s about our ‘relationship’ that you’re shipping, but that’s what made him go through with it,” Steve explained with a soft smile. “rather than causing it, you’re preventing it.”

“So ... Tony’s going to survive?” Peter asked, sounding much less like he was going to fragment into a load of human pieces for Hannibal to eat that night. Steve nodded.

“The doctors say he’ll probably to pull through. They caught it pretty late but he’s reacting well to treatment so far.”

“Reacting like a Stark, then?”

“Indeed,” Steve said with a grin. “Listen ... did you want to come and snap some photos sometime? Tony told me he wanted a kind of update for everyone. He said he didn’t want to hide it.”

“Isn’t that kind of ... weird?”

“You’re asking Tony if he’s weird?”

“Touché.” Peter said with a soft smile. Steve chuckled lowly, watching people wander past them. Thor was rampaging around the football field bellowing like an ox in mating season whilst Darcy imitated him from the sidelines.

“But one condition though,” Steve then said. Peter looked up at the tall blonde, face set with such solid determination Peter thought he’d perhaps have to go to the surgery for facial reconstruction.

“You bring a knitted monkey hat with you.”

-o-

They weren’t allowed to go in the first couple of times they went to see Tony because he had only just started the first leg of his therapy. Because of the decrease in his immune system that was already pretty low to begin with, the nurses had told Steve and Peter that they weren't allowed inside, so they stood outside and talked through the glass window. He was grumpy and scowling and looked very ill.

Steve smiled gently at him though and Peter commented on how he thought Tony’s hat suited him: it was an owl ski hat from his mother and Tony often wore it in winter. He then held up his own hat that he’d bought, a replica of the hat Misha Collins wore. Steve held up a llama hat too and Tony beamed, despite his unhealthy look.

“I feel like someone ran me over.” Tony said, resting his head back on the pillows and sighing gently. Steve watched him with fond affection and Peter smiled at the unconscious tilt of the lips Tony had caused Steve to partake in: he was infatuated with the young genius.

“You look like it too, man. Like, no offence or anything, but.”

“I know what you mean ... I don’t want to eat or anything ... I literally feel like I’m just gonna pass away right here and y’know.”

They both know what Tony meant, heard it in his voice and saw it in his shaky exhalation. He raised his hand a millimetre from the bed before putting it back. He didn’t have the energy for such a simple task. Steve placed his hand on the glass as Tony turned over slowly, facing the two men outside of his room. He smiled and Peter took this as a moment to move away from them both.

As he headed towards the Hershey bars in the vending machine, he heard a soft laugh and turned back to find Steve had given Tony the Vulcan salute.

-o-

A week passed before Peter made his way back to the hospital as Tony was going through his next run of chemo. Everyone knew Tony had been hospitalised with cancer by now and the internet for a good while had been sending support for him. Peter had been inundated with messages from people around the world, videos and photo’s and text blocks wishing Tony good luck in his recovery. Parcels also arrived at Peter’s home address, thereafter addressed to Tony: a good deal of hats arrived much to Tony’s intense amusement.

He wore one each day of the week. His hair hadn’t completely fallen out; (he was thanking the high heavens for this because he insisted he’d never look as handsome as Sir Patrick Stewart with his glorious baldness) it had just thinned a considerable lot. The doctor with whom they’d become increasingly friendly with, Donald Blake, had assured Tony with a crafty grin that it’d grow back as soon as he was up and running again.

Peter hadn’t taken any pictures yet, respecting Tony’s privacy and waited until they asked. He still brought his camera along, however, and showed them pictures of everyone at school: they’d somehow gotten their principal, Nick Fury, to wear a bunny hat for Tony and hold up a glittery pink banner wishing him good luck. Steve had to calm Tony down in case he threw up after he laughed so hard and the promptly looked ill. Peter smiled as he made his way down the clean corridors, waving to people as he went. Underneath one arm he held a small box sent from a kid in Canada with a mug scripted with ‘My Daily Dose of Genius’. Peter made sure to check everything before he took it to Tony.

One follower had sent over a shrunken head. Peter wondered how it’d gotten through American customs in the first place and promptly hid it away where neither he nor his Aunt May would find it again. It wasn’t that Tony wouldn’t appreciate the sentiment, it was just ... well. It was awfully voo-doo-ish.

And fucking scary.

Upon opening the room Tony had been moved too for further treatment, he stopped and grinned. Steve sat with Tony curled up in his lap, head on his shoulder. However, whilst Tony slept, Steve had given him a make-over of sorts.

Quietly, Peter got his camera out and took a picture of the new look. Perhaps a Rasta hat, Wendy moustache and large Aviators would become the next hype or something, Peter thought.

-o-

Within an hour, the image had gone worldwide and Stony was trending on Twitter again. With Steve's permission, of course.

-o-

Tony, after a long period of time, finally began to show signs of recuperation. Despite the fact he could quite easily go back to school, he had preferred not too and asked for school work to be sent home for him to complete until he felt like he could go back in. Tony knew thousands of other kids got off their arses to go to school whilst going through chemotherapy but, personally, he would prefer to get the whole thing over and done with and not get stressed out by people asking him if he was going to die or if he was alright every second of the day. He was awfully easy to rile up like a lot of other patients and Tony didn't feel like he wanted that. People respected his requirements. 

His friends came to visit him often after school, assembling in Tony’s room with their own hats on. Thor was incredibly pleased with his unicorn hat that Tony got him. Clint wore a hawk one, Natasha a spider one (much to her disgruntled amusement) whilst Steve just sat with one of Tony’s on – usually the llama one because, hey. Llamas.

In addition to their crew, Bruce sat with them with what looked like the green pig from Angry Birds on his hat. Carol, Jane, Darcy and Rhodey often came. Sometimes, if they were available, Jan, Logan and Hank too.

Mostly it was just him, Steve and Peter.

Steve was always there though, something Tony loved and relished. Given, he went to school and brought back Tony’s schoolwork, but in the evening’s he’d spend as much time as he could around Tony’s. Sometimes he’d fall asleep and Tony would wake up curled into Steve’s arms, nose pressed into the curve of his neck.

It was in those moments Tony realised he’d made the right decision.

He, like everyone else, had way too much to live for.

-o-

Within eight months, Dr. Donald Blake told Tony that they’d eradicated his cancer. The joy plastered over Tony’s face was something Peter caught on camera that day, silent but obvious underneath the gaunt shadows encompassing his eyes. That night, Tony smiled openly as he received messages from around the world, wishing him good luck and good fortune. On his bedside table sat a myriad of gifts from around the world, complete with mini national flags that hung like a little banner from the window. Carol turned out to be a pretty good sewer.

Steve stayed round that Saturday evening and brought along one of his favourite movies that Tony hadn’t ever seen before. The next morning, when his dad was distressed about a stain on his best tie and his mother about a stray eyebrow hair, he simply said:

“Put some Windex on it!”

Maria had burst out laughing whilst his father looked perplexed, so that evening, he treated his father to the delights of ‘My Big Fat Greek Wedding’ and it soon became a firm favourite family movie. When the Christmas holidays passed around, Howard and Maria invited Steve and his mother around for Christmas dinner along with Peter and May. They had a family photo, courtesy of Peter’s self timer and it was soon a framed image in each household.

Tony had never been happier. 

-o-

Peter Parker received a message via Tumblr three days after New Year asking whether Tony and Steve were together yet, considering their close-ness.

Honestly, Peter actually had no idea.

-o-

His curiosity was answered approximately twelve days later at one of Tony’s showjumping events wherein he leant down from the saddle after his clear round and planted one upon Steve.

Peter grinned so hard he felt like the Barbie at the end of the Toy Story 2 gag reel and waited sneakily around for another. He finally got lucky, catching an upside-down kiss in Tony’s workshop of them both, Tony splattered with oil from the engine of the 1967 Chevrolet Impala he was working on as he bent backwards, Steve just holding a cup of tea in his hand.

Yes, it was a bit cliched. But did Peter care?

Hell to the no.

It was simple, it was clean cut, it was them.

He asked their permission though before uploading anything and Tony was actually surprised his electronic butler, JARVIS hadn’t realised he was there. JARVIS then said he knew Peter was there but he didn’t tell Tony.

Tony said he’d meet him in Hell.

JARVIS said he’d be the one to be gripped tight and raised from perdition.

Tony asked Steve whether he’d made JARVIS watch Supernatural.

Steve denied it and kissed Tony to shut him up.

Peter just got it all on camera.

-o-

When Steve kissed Tony at school, people looked both confused and delighted, pestering Peter as to when this revelation had occurred. The young photographer shrugged gently, remembering the internal battle he’d had with himself about whether he should really upload the picture. Tony had said go for it, as had Steve, but Peter could sense some doubt.

Breaching their rightful privacy was pretty petty and selfish, just for worldwide fame.

Peter knew he’d done the right thing as Tony smiled at him gratefully, still looking utterly exhausted and sporting his monkey hat but with a sparkle in his eyes and with dark brown hair sticking out at random points. He mouthed it afterward as Steve dragged him off to their next class by the hand, the blonde also flashing Peter a grin and waving. He was more relieved for Tony’s sake than his own. 

Peter smiled and looked down at the camera in his hand, putting the lens cap back on. He’d still take photos of everyone, be the conniving little bastard everyone loved to hate because he caught them ‘derping’ and generally being uglified by their own features, but he’d keep them on his hard-drive.

He made Tony and Steve a scrapbook for their anniversary the next year, full of images he’d snapped whilst with them, with their permission as well as pictures of their friends.

-o-

Seven years later, Peter Parker stood in his tuxedo yelling out ‘smile!’ to Tony and Steve Stark-Rogers as they celebrated their wedding together.

He got them in as many ridiculous poses as he could, getting them to pretend they had just seen each for the first time for a while, that they were being chased by a dinosaur (thank you, Tumblr) that Tony was being abducted from Steve by the bridesmaids (how they’d gotten Clint, Thor and Rhodey to dress up in drag for this, Peter would never know).

But he got a final one for them, for their wedding present of just Steve and Tony, alone, with their infamous monkey and llama hats as Steve squished Tony against his body, pressing a kiss to his cheek. Peter thought it was the best image he’d ever taken: they were happy and comfortable and in love with each other with their whole world ahead of them. Tony had regular check-ups at the doctors to make sure his cancer didn’t return and Steve took him out regularly to buy more hats.

Peter smiled.

He didn’t mean to become their publicist.

But boy hadn’t it turned out well.