Archive of Our Own ^beta

The really shitty thing was, this wasn’t the first time it had happened. It wasn’t the first time Quentin had left him alone after a scene. Left him alone to recover and clean himself up, or sometimes, left him alone to fall. That’s what was happening tonight. Quentin’s excuse had been flimsy, and even still half in subspace, Tony could see through the lie. There was no family emergency. In the middle of the scene, Quentin often forgot that Tony was his boss and had seen his personnel file. Tony knew he didn’t have a sister in Queens. But Tony hadn’t called him on the lie. He never did.

Quentin and Tony had been lovers for a couple of months. They never went on dates or spent casual time together. It really was more of a friends with benefits kind of relationship, just without the friends part. Somehow, an inappropriate workplace conversation had revealed more about Tony’s sexual preferences than he usually let anyone hear and Quentin had been quick to take advantage of the information.

Learning that Tony Stark liked to be dominated in bed felt like the best thing Quentin had ever heard. It hadn’t taken much to talk Tony into sleeping with him. It was intoxicating to see the great Tony Stark reduced to a begging, crying mess at his hands. The tricky thing was, Quentin didn’t actually like Tony very much. He despised him, in fact. The only reason he had still been working at Stark Industries had been the hope of finding some way of getting back at Tony for every perceived insult he’d ever received from the man.

Quentin took the opportunity to fuck Tony as often as he could and looked for any flimsy excuse to “punish” the man. His favorite thing was to see how long he could make Tony beg just to deny him any release in the end. And Tony took it all like a starving man at a banquet. He never complained about how Quentin treated him, had never yet used their safe word, and never questioned the excuses Quentin gave as he left. And he always left as soon as he could, rarely doing anything to make sure Tony was alright afterward. He just didn’t care.

That was how Tony found himself on the floor, cold and alone and fighting back tears. He was leaning back against the end of his bed, staring blindly at the mess on the floor nearby. Everything had started well that evening. Quentin had been running a little late, but they’d actually shared a drink and a conversation before heading for the bedroom. Once there, he had turned Tony into a hole to be used and Tony was actually a little embarrassed at how arousing he found the experience. He had nearly come on the spot when Quentin shoved his dick down his throat and told him that he needed to come more than Tony needed to breathe. In the end, Quentin pulled out and shot his load over Tony’s face then shoved him down with a hand gripped cruelly in his hair and told him he wasn’t worth the effort to jack him off and the only way he was coming that night was by humping the floor.

Tony did as he was told and it was over fast. He was slumped over, his dick still twitching against the carpet as Quentin made his excuses and left with a cold smirk that Tony never saw as he looked back at what he was leaving behind. Tony finally sat up and managed to pull the cover off the bed to wrap around himself, but he just couldn’t make himself get up. He felt cold, worn, and empty. No wonder Quentin had just left. He was pathetic, come drying on his face, trying not to let his blanket drag through the mess he’d left on the floor, even as he used a corner of it to try and clean his face. A wave a shame washed through him as the events of the night replayed themselves in his mind. He was disgusted with himself and he didn’t blame Quentin for never wanting to do more than fuck and run.

---//---

“Good evening, Peter. The lab is open for you, as usual.” Friday greeted him as she usually did when Peter entered the tower. He grinned openly, delighted as always by the Irish lilt in her voice.

“Thanks, Fri, is Tony there yet?” There was a slight hesitation before she answered, almost short enough that he might have imagined it.

“Not yet,” she said. Her reply was clipped and there was no further explanation of Tony’s whereabouts. Usually, the AI would chatter at length, especially when complaining to Peter about Tony not taking care of himself.

Her current silence was odd, but Peter could make a couple of guesses about what was going on. Tony might well have put a privacy protocol in place, stopping her from volunteering information. Or he could be on a date. Peter knew he was seeing someone, though he didn’t know who. Friday knew how Peter felt about his mentor; feelings that had only grown stronger as he grew up and grew out of his childish crush. If Tony were on a date, Friday might well be trying to spare his feelings.

Peter sighed and made his way to the lab. Eventually, Tony would show up with his own explanation or excuse, Peter would quickly brush it aside, and they would settle in to work together as they usually did. In the meantime, Peter would get started on his own.

He and Tony were currently working on further miniaturizing the housing for the Iron Spider suit. Its current casing was a little larger than Tony’s nanite casing, having been designed before Tony applied nanites to his own armor. Peter was certain that they could configure the nanites to fit into something the size of a wristwatch, like the one Tony wore with a repulser built into it. His suit did have nearly as much mass as the Iron Man armor, so it should be able to fit into a much smaller storage space.

Lost in his work, Peter barely noticed the time passing, and several hours went by as he worked alone. He was startled out of his focus by Friday calling his name.

“Peter? There is a difficulty.” The AI’s voice was almost hesitant, something he couldn’t remember ever hearing before.

“What it is Friday?” He glanced at the time and realized that Tony was now hours late. “Has something happened to Tony?”

“I have conflicting protocols preventing me from sharing that information.” Now her voice was prim and full of disapproval. Peter smiled grimly, understanding her frustration. Tony had probably forbidden her from telling anyone what he was doing, then gone and gotten into trouble.

Peter considered how to proceed, wondering if he could use his tingle--he grimaced as his own mind pulled up the ridiculous word--to figure out where Tony was. Since the blip, Peter had been trying to train that ability. It was too random and unreliable to be helpful so he’d been trying to learn how to control it. It was still too unpredictable however to count on right now.

He did have an emergency override that would let him bypass most of Friday’s protocols. It was supposed to be used in emergencies only, but if something was wrong enough that Friday had stretched the limits of her protocols to the extent she already had, then maybe this was an emergency.

“Friday, emergency override Papa Bravo Sierra One Four. Acknowledge.”

“Override acknowledged. Boss is in his bedroom and he is in distress.”

Peter didn’t waste time asking more questions. Whatever curiosity he had would be satisfied once he reached Tony and made sure he was alright. His mind was racing faster than his feet as he tried to imagine what could have incapacitated Tony in his own bedroom without setting off any other alarms. The sight that confronted him when he stepped into the room was not anything he was prepared for.

Tony Stark had always been larger than life in Peter’s eyes. He filled every space he was in, despite his smaller than average stature. In all the years Peter had known him, he had never seen him looking so small and vulnerable and broken; not even in the aftermath of the final battle against Thanos when half his body was burned and broken.

“Tony? Tony, are you alright?” He always thought that was a ridiculous question to ask, but all the training he’d ever had said you should always start with it. Things might not be as bad as they seem, and it’s an easy question for people to answer. Tony didn’t answer him however, he just stared blankly into the space in front of him.

Peter darted to his side and knelt beside him, appalled by the condition Tony was in. He was huddled in the corner between his bed and the wall, a blanket pulled half off the bed and over his lap. His skin was freezing to the touch and that scared Peter more than anything. Tony usually burned hot and bright and seeing him like this was a shock. He recovered quickly and took Tony face between his hands, turning his head so they were face to face.

“Tony, it’s Peter, can you hear me?” When the older man just stared at him without answering, Peter frowned and looked out into the room.

“Friday, how long has he been like this? Did he have a nightmare?”

“Boss had a...date...and it has been forty-three minutes since Mr. Beck left Boss alone.” Peter picked up on the hesitation over the word date, and figured it had simply been a hookup that apparently went wrong. He caught the name as well and stored it away for later. He suspected it was more information than Friday was supposed to give, but she was probably using his override as an excuse to volunteer it.

He felt anger stir deep inside him as he considered that someone had done this to Tony and then left him alone like this. Peter was not as innocent as most people assumed, and he recognized sub drop when he saw it. Whoever this Beck was, he should never have left Tony without making sure he was alright, and Peter's fury grew the more he thought about it. He planned to have a conversation with Mr. Beck in the near future.

Now that he had an idea of what had happened tonight, he started picking up more details, like the cut on the corner of Tony’s lip, come dried in his hair, and he was pretty sure, on the rug nearby. There was nothing necessarily wrong with any of that by itself, but combined with Tony’s near catatonic and frozen state, Peter was ready to track down Beck and destroy him. No one treated Tony like this and got away with it. But that was a problem for later. Right now, Tony needed help and that trumped everything else.

“Friday, start the shower, as hot as is safe- actually, no, make it a bath, please.” He realized that Tony might not be able to stand on his own, and decided he would get warmer faster if he were submerged in the hot water.

“Tony, it’s Peter, can you answer me?” Peter tried again to get some response from Tony, and his eyes flicked up to meet Peter’s but he didn’t speak and just looked away again after a moment.

“Okay, it’s going to be okay. In just a minute, we’re going into the bathroom and we’re going to get cleaned up. You don’t have to do anything, I’ve got you, alright? Just stay right here while I get everything ready.”

Peter stood then, and stripped down to his boxers. He knew skin to skin contact would help Tony recover faster but he wasn’t comfortable getting completely naked. He was sure he could borrow a pair of dry underwear later. He could hear water running behind one door, so he opened the other one into Tony’s closet and poked around quickly until he found soft sweats, socks and underwear, and carried everything into the bedroom. He moved a pile of towels close to the tub and tested the water. There was a bottle of lavender and mint oil on the ledge, and he tipped a little of it into the tub. It smelled nice and he smiled to himself as he hurried back out to Tony.

He took a moment to run through the housekeeping staff that he personally knew. Tony hired the best, most reliable people and paid them what they were worth, but even so, some were more reliable than others.

“Friday, call up…hmm, Jules from housekeeping. I want every trace of Beck removed from this room. Tell them twice the bonus for discretion if they’re done before we finish our bath.”

He didn’t wait for her reply before he knelt beside Tony again and gently scooped him up into his arms. It broke his heart a little the way Tony’s arms wrapped around his neck as he hid his face against Peter’s shoulder. The older man clung to Peter like he was a lifeline. He didn’t say anything yet, but Peter felt his whole body trembling against him and he held him that much tighter as he carried him effortlessly into the bathroom, murmuring quiet reassurances as they went along.

The bathroom was warm with steam and smelled delightfully of lavender and mint, and Peter stepped directly into the tub with Tony still in his arms. He lowered himself carefully into the water, grateful for the strength and balance that came with being Spider-man. The water rose to their chests as he settled Tony between his legs, his back pressed against Peter’s front. For a moment he just sat there, enjoying the feeling of the hot water around him. Eventually, he reached for a sponge and began squeezing water over Tony’s neck and shoulders, warming the parts of him that were above the water. He kept one arm wrapped around Tony’s middle, keeping him steady and secure while he worked.

When Tony’s shivering had stopped and his skin was no longer cold to the touch, Peter added soap to the sponge and began cleaning him. He moved slowly and carefully, keeping every touch gentle and light so he wouldn't hurt or startle the man. He talked while he worked, keeping up a steady description of everything he was doing so that Tony wouldn’t be surprised, and pausing now and then to see if Tony was ready to start talking in return. He didn’t say anything for a while, letting Peter move and position him however he needed to. It wasn’t until it was time to wash his hair that he finally found his voice.

“No, Pete, wait-” His voice trembled when he spoke and Peter couldn’t quite identify the emotion that it held. It certainly had none of the strength and certainty he normally associated with Tony Stark.

“Of course, Tony,” Peter put down the sponge and leaned back, giving Tony some space if he wanted it. He didn’t though, and followed Peter’s movement so he was still leaning against his face.

“I- it’s just- I don’t like water poured on my face. I’m sorry.” Peter instinctively turned his head to press a kiss against Tony’s temple before he replied.

“Thank you for telling me Tony, that’s very good. You don’t have anything to apologize for.” It never occurred to Peter that both the kiss and the praise were highly inappropriate and he wasn’t in a position where he should be doing either of those things. He was in his own headspace now where the only thing that mattered was the man in his arms who needed him. He would do whatever it took to make sure Tony was happy and safe.

“No, Pete, I’m sorry you saw me like this, it’s not your problem, you shouldn’t have to do this. I’m so fucking weak and I’m sorry.” Tony seemed to shrink in on himself as he spoke and Peter hadn’t thought it was possible for his heart to break any more, but it was. He wrapped his arms around Tony once again and held him close and bent his head to press against his shoulder.

“Listen to me, Tony. I am not sorry, and there is no place in the universe that I would rather be than right here, right now. I will always take care of you and no one is ever going to hurt you like this again.”

“You don’t understand, kid. I wanted him to-”

But Peter was already shaking his head and he gently laid a finger over Tony’s lips. When he spoke, his voice was low, calm, and filled with indisputable authority.

“Tony, if I’m making you uncomfortable and you want me to stop, then I will. But that’s the only thing I want to hear from you right now unless I ask a question or if you need to ask for something. Anything else that we need to talk about can wait until tomorrow. Do you understand?” He expected Tony to do as he was told, and he waited patiently, watching Tony for any sign of distress.

Tony’s eyes grew wider as Peter spoke and jaw dropped open. It took a moment for him to collect himself, be he snapped his mouth closed and nodded.

“I understand. I- you’re not making me uncomfortable. Please, can we- will you-” He stumbled over his words, and began to look worried; he seemed unsure of what or how to ask for something.

“It’s okay. Just say it. I want you to ask for anything you want. I’ll let you know if the answer is no, but I still want you to ask.” Tony nodded and seemed to relax more into Peter’s arms the longer they talked.

“Will you wash my hair? Please?” he asked with his eyes cast downward and his voice barely barely a whisper. Peter swore to himself that there would be a time when Tony would not hesitate to ask for what he needed.

“Of course I will. Tip your head back so I can keep the water out of your face.”

Tony complied, and Peter took the greatest care in wetting Tony’s hair. He spent some time massaging Tony’s scalp as he worked the shampoo through it until it squeaked, then use his palm to scoop water to rinse the bubbles clear. The whole process took a long time, but Peter was patient and deliberate in his movements, and not a single drop of water ran across Tony’s face as he worked. When he was finished, he used a hand towel to blot the excess water from Tony’s hair so it wouldn’t drip when he picked up his head.

Finally, Tony was clean and relaxed, laying back against Peter with his eyes closed, his hand resting on top of Peter’s where they crossed across the front of his body. Peter thought he was on the verge of falling asleep and he could feel the water starting to cool, so he turned to kiss him again, just a soft brush of lips against his cheek and sat up in the tub, taking Tony with him.

“Tony, do you think you can stand? It’s time to get out and get dry.” He could feel Tony tensing like he was testing the strength in his legs and after a moment, he shook his head and glanced at Peter with a look of apprehension. Peter just smiled and brushed a lock of hair back out of his face.

“Good, Tony, thank you for being honest. I will never be upset with you for being honest.” Tension eased from Tony’s expression as Peter stepped out and laid a towel over the bench against the wall. Then he lifted Tony from the tub, supporting most of his weight easily and eased him down onto the bench, wrapping a second towel around his shoulders. Like everything else the man owned, Tony’s towels were large and sinfully fluffy. The man looked lost in the soft folds and Peter couldn’t help but smile fondly at the sight.

He quickly stripped off his own wet boxers, toweled dry, and pulled on a pair of Tony’s underwear. Then he turned back to Tony and helped him stand so Peter could dry him off as well. Tony leaned against Peter for balance and support, shakily lifted one foot, then the other so Peter could ease him into his boxers and sweatpants. At the last moment, Peter decided he was warm enough to sleep without a shirt, letting him keep more skin to skin contact which he thought Tony still needed.

Once they were both dry, Peter lifted Tony into his arms again. Tony startled and tried to squirm free, but Peter just held him securely as he walked back into the bedroom.

“Relax Tony, we’re only going as far as the bed. Let me do this for you.” He was pleased to see that the room was spotless, the bed freshly remade and turned down, and there wasn’t so much as a damp spot on the carpet anymore. Additionally, there was a tray on the bedside table with bottles of water and a bowl filled with blueberries, walnuts, and bite-sized bits of cheese. There was no sign of Jules, and Peter made a mental note to thank them personally for being so quick and thorough. Peter hadn’t asked for the food, but it was very much appreciated.

Peter eased Tony onto the bed and left him sitting for a moment while he raided the closet for another pair of sweatpants and pulled them on, tying them low around his hips. He had gained a couple inches over the last couple of years, and he and Tony were now the same height, but he was still boyishly slender and Tony’s clothes would always be a little big on him. He returned to the bed and sat next to Tony with the bowl in his hands.

“Alright, I need you to eat and drink a little and then we can sleep. Is this good, or do you want me to order something else for you?”

“It’s fine Pete, I’m really not hungry.” Tony shook his head in denial at the bowl and looked like he wanted to just lay down and sleep for the next week.

“Tony,” Peter said firmly, “I didn’t ask if you were hungry. You’ve had a hard night and you need to eat. At least half of this bowl and one of the bottles of water.” He could feel that this was the deciding moment between them. Tony had to decide if he wanted to keep taking Peter’s orders, or if enough was enough and he was going to just laugh off the kid trying to be in charge. Peter kept his face calm, refusing to give evidence of the turmoil within him.

He had loved Tony for so long, and he wanted this chance so badly. He understood what Tony needed; more, he was sure, than Tony or anyone else gave him credit for. He would never in a million years have wished for this to happen, but now that it had, he was just grateful he had been here and known what to do. And all he wanted now was the chance to keep showering this complex man with all the love and care that he deserved. Finally, something seemed to give, and to Peter’s great relief, Tony reached for the bowl and began to eat.

“Alright, *alright*, sorry,” he mumbled as he plucked a couple of berries from the bowl and popped them into his mouth. But his lips quirked up in a hint of a smile, and he was starting to sound like his usual self again. Tony dutifully continued to eat, one small bite after another, until the bowl was halfway empty. He set it back on the tray and picked up a water bottle without being prompted. He twisted it open and drank it down swiftly, clearly surprised by how thirsty he actually was. He returned the empty bottle to the tray as well and looked expectantly at the younger man.

Peter leaned in and kissed his forehead then eased him back to lay down. He nimbly climbed over him and got under the covers himself, taking the big spoon position as he wrapped his arm around Tony’s middle and tucked his face against the nape of his neck. He knew he was taking a bit of a liberty now, and he prayed that Tony wouldn’t object. But the older man just went boneless in his arms, breathing out a small sigh as he settled back against Peter’s chest. Tony felt warm now, and Peter pressed close and pulled the heavy cover up around their shoulders to hold in the heat and felt himself starting to drift off to sleep right along with Tony.

“Good night, Tony. I’ve got you; you’re safe now, always.”