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wreck my plans

Chapter 6: six

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

The next morning after breakfast, Peter finds a sleek black blazer, black slacks, white button-down, and a black tie sitting on his bedspread.

He also finds a bright orange Hermés box. Peter rolls his eyes, and opens the box carefully.

Inside he finds a black leather loafer with a gold H logo. Just one.

Peter throws his head back laughing.

Minutes later, he gets a text from Tony:

Hope you like the suit and the shoe. You told me I couldn’t get you shoes, plural, so I just got you one shoe. It’s all you need anyway.

Then a moment later:

I did get you a Cartier watch, I couldn’t resist. Let me know if you want it, or feel free to wear your digital Casio watch you’ve had for 15 years. Up to you.

Peter slaps a hand over his face and laughs again. God, Tony is really something.

He decides to accept the watch.

~

The common area of the Compound looks so different with people in it. Peter is used to it being nearly empty, and a little more messy and lived in than it looks now.

The suit Tony got him fit perfectly, of course. He doesn’t even know how Tony knew his measurements, or shoe size. He feels…flattered, and a little giddy to be wearing it. He tries not to dwell on the feeling.

Peter scans the room as he shambles further in, not spotting Tony but luckily finding Rhodey standing near one of the couches.

“Hey, Pete. How’s it going? How’s the foot?” Rhodey asks him.

“Oh, it’s fine. I keep forgetting that I even broke it.” Peter replies, laughing softly.

“Honestly, I feel the same about my braces. It’s like they’re not even there at this point.” Rhodey says, smiling.

Peter looks at him, smiling brightly. “Really? That’s amazing! I’m so glad.”

“Yep. Couldn’t have done it without you and Tony.” Rhodey tips his beer towards Peter. “Where is that loser, anyway?”

Peter shrugs. “I don’t know. I haven’t seen him yet.”

He scans the room for Tony. Everyone seems to be having a good time. He wonders how much money they’ve raised so far.

He’s about to ask Rhodey that question, except he notices something across the room. Someone he recognizes.

Is that–

Oh no–

Peter stutters. “Um. Uh. Oh my god.”

“What’s wrong?” Rhodey prompts.

Oh god. It’s him. It’s Jason. And Peter thinks he’s coming over to talk to him. Right now. Um, what the fuck.

And now Jason is standing in front of him. Asking him a question. Oh god, this is exactly what Peter was afraid of.

“Peter? What are you doing here?”

“Jason!” Peter says, too loud and breathy and not at all reflective of how he actually feels about Jason being in front of him.

Peter continues, stuttering. “I’m– I’m. I live here.” He literally couldn’t think of any other explanation at the moment.

“Oh.” Jason replies. He looks confused, scowling a bit. “Since, uh, when?”

“Um, around the beginning of the summer. So, pretty recently, I guess.” Peter laughs awkwardly. Out of the corner of his eye, Peter notices that Rhodey has wandered off to talk to someone Peter doesn’t recognize. He wants to ask him to come back.

Jason still looks skeptical. “So…why, exactly? If you don’t mind me asking.”

Peter clears his throat. This is awful. “Well, T– Mr. Stark asked if I would come help him develop a mechanical exoskeleton and some reparative serums for Colonel Rhodes.” He gestures to Rhodey, who’s standing a few feet away.

Jason glances over at him, momentarily looking down at Rhodey’s leg braces.

“Wow. Peter, that’s great. It's amazing that Stark would put that kind of faith in you.” Jason comments.

Peter doesn’t fully understand what he means. Jason continues before he can respond.

“So, you’re only here…temporarily? Not actually living here.”

“Well, I…I suppose. I still work at MIT, technically, so.”

“Right.” Jason says. He clasps his hands behind his back and looks down at Peter with an expression he can’t read. “So, have you made a donation, then?”

“Um, no. No I–”

“Why not?” Jason pries.

“Well, I just wasn’t expecting–” Peter starts.

“I thought you worked for Tony Stark?”

Peter scowls, crossing his arms over his chest. “It’s Stark Industries that’s supporting you, not Tony, and I’m sure the company has already made a sizable donation, so I suggest you speak to Ms. Potts if you have questions. And I don’t work for him, I work with him.”

Jason narrows his eyes at him, and huffs. “Work with him? Sorry Peter, but I’m still having trouble believing that Tony Stark actually knows you personally, let alone considers you on his level enough to work with him.”

Peter scoffs. “You think I care what you believe or not? I’m telling the truth, but believe what you want.”

He can’t deal with this anymore. This is exactly why Peter broke up with him, and hearing Jason’ voice like this again is making Peter feel tense and nauseous.

“God, you really have a thing for rich old guys, don’t you? It’s embarrassing, Peter.”

“Just leave me alone, Jason.” Peter feels tears prick his eyes and he turns to hobble as far away from him as possible.

“You don’t even look old enough to be here, Parker!” Jason hollers after him.

Peter groans, annoyed, and wipes a hand over his eyes before any tears can fall. He shoves his hands into his pockets and luckily finds Vision hovering by himself near the corner of the room.

Peter stands next to him, shooting him a tight smile and a simple greeting.

“Are you alright, Peter?” He asks.

“Yeah.” Peter exhales quickly. “I’m fine.”

He braces himself as he looks back across the room, wanting to be sure that Jason wasn’t going to follow him. Thankfully, Peter can’t spot him through the crowd of people.

But he does spot Tony. Finally.

And from the looks of it, Tony had been watching the whole exchange with Jason. He looks concerned. Fuck.

Peter feels stupid. Standing near the corner of the room with his stupid baby face and stupid boot on his foot. He needs a drink. Now.

Peter decides to ignore Tony’s gaze and head for the bar.

He orders a glass of his favorite champagne, and tries not to be too obvious as he tosses it back quickly. Then he orders another glass.

A few minutes later, after a pleasant conversation with the bartender, Peter orders a third glass and decides he should probably wander back through the crowd and maybe find Tony. He hopes that Jason went and jumped off the roof, but more realistically he hopes that he can avoid him for the rest of the night.

As Peter turns away from the bar, he nearly bumps right into Tony, almost spilling his glass all over Tony’s undoubtedly extremely expensive suit.

“Peter. You okay?” Tony asks tentatively.

“Of course, Tony. I’m wonderful. Why wouldn’t I be?” Peter smiles at him. His eyes are such a pretty, deep brown. Just like the coffee he makes for Peter.

“Well, I just wanted to make sure cause I– um. Were you…arguing with Jason Hoffman?” Tony asks, gesturing behind him with his thumb.

Peter groans. He is so annoyed. Tonight was supposed to be fun.

“Yes, I was.” Peter rolls his eyes. “He’s such an ass.”

“Peter, I– How much have you had to drink? Because, as much as I want you to have fun, you should probably slow down if you’re going to start arguing with important people and I–”

Peter frowns at him. “What? No, I– I just started drinking. And trust me, I did not start that argument. That was all him. The douchebag.”

He sips his champagne with a grumble. Tony looks confused. “Peter, you just met him. How are you already calling him a douchebag?”

Peter stares at him for a moment. Oh. He should probably explain that.

Thank god Peter is tipsy when he says this, because it would be a lot harder to say sober. “I know him, Tony. We used to…uh…date. He’s my ex-boyfriend.”

Tony just blinks at him for a moment. Peter wants to slap himself across the head.

“Oh. I’m–I’m sorry, Peter. I had no idea.”

Peter waves a hand dismissively. “No worries. I kind of had a feeling he would be here when you told me that it was a fundraiser. After we broke up, he left MIT and started Comet Aid. Stupid name for a company.”

“Oh.” Tony says. “And you were arguing because…”

Peter shrugs. “He asked me why I’m at this thing and I obviously told him that I fucking live here in order to explain, but he didn’t believe me and just acted like an ass. He said he didn’t believe that you would actually talk to me.” Peter shakes his head, and sips at his champagne again, almost finishing the glass.

“That’s.” Tony clears his throat. “That’s ridiculous, Peter. Of course, I would talk to you. I…I love talking to you.”

Peter’s chest warms, and he feels a blush creep up his neck. He tells himself it’s the alcohol.

“You. You do?”

“Of course. Peter, you’re…truly unlike anyone I’ve ever met. I should have asked you to move in sooner, if I’m being honest.” Tony tells him. Suddenly, Peter can’t feel his legs.

He’s fully blushing now, he can’t help it. He stares back at Tony, and doesn’t break eye contact as he slowly finishes off his champagne.

“Want another glass?” Tony asks him, his eyes still fixed on Peter’s.

Peter swallows. His face is on fire. “Yes, please.”

Tony plucks the glass from Peter’s grasp, and steps around him to stand at the bar. Peter turns, feeling a little wobbly, and takes a moment to admire Tony’s attire.

He’s wearing the hell out of an all-black three-piece suit with a midnight blue tie. His watch is a Bvlgari with a blue octagonal face. Peter thinks that his black loafers are Gucci. How Italian of him.

Tony turns back around, Peter’s drink in hand. He can’t tell if Tony knew he was staring, but he has a feeling that he did.

Peter watches Tony smirk, almost unnoticeably, and hand him the glass. Peter shamelessly takes a gulp of the drink.

Tony watches him do it.

Fuck.

Peter just wants to–

Pepper Potts suddenly appears next to them both. “Tony! There you are! I’ve been looking for you since you wandered off.”

Tony jerks his head to look at her. He smiles tightly. “Pep. Sorry, I was just checking on our friend Peter here.”

“Peter!” Pepper smiles brightly at him, holding out a hand. “It is so nice to finally meet you. Tony has told me so much about you.”

Peter smiles back at her. As much as he hates the fact that she interrupted a very interesting moment between him and Tony, he is truly excited to meet her. He shakes himself out of his daze and shakes her hand firmly.

“Ms. Potts! It’s so great to meet you as well. He’s told you all good things, I hope.”

“Please, call me Pepper. And yes, of course. All very good things.” She smiles, and pats him softly on the shoulder. “We really appreciate you giving up your time to help Rhodes recover. You two have really helped him feel normal again. It’s truly amazing.”

Pepper looks between them both. Tony smiles at her. “Of course, Pep. You know I’d do anything for Rhodey. And Peter here is the absolute best of the best. No question.”

Peter blushes again. Maybe he should stop with the champagne, because he just knows his cheeks are very bright red right now.

Pepper looks at Peter, and raises her martini glass towards him. “Well, we’re truly thankful, Peter.”

Peter swallows. “You’re– you’re welcome. Anytime. I– I’m really happy to help.” God, he sounds stupid.

Pepper shoots him one last smile before looking down at her watch. “Well, I guess I should try to find Jason before the nights over. Peter, it was great to meet you. Tony, I’ll see you Monday.”

Tony hums. “Can’t wait!”

Peter would laugh at Tony’s classic sarcasm, but he’s grimacing from hearing Jason's name again.

Tony looks back at him. “You alright?”

Peter huffs. “Yeah. Just dreading having to speak to Jason again. But I’m fine, really.”

Tony looks thoughtful. “Peter, listen to me. I promise you, I will assure that you never have to speak to him or even be in the same room as him again, okay? I promise.”

“Are you gonna kill him for me?”

Tony splutters, then laughs incredulously. “No, Peter. I–I’m just going to make sure he isn’t near you again. So, you don’t need to worry anymore. Sound good?”

Peter nods quickly. “Yeah. Thank you, Tony. That’s…so nice of you.”

Peter continues, running a stressed hand through his hair. “I’m really sorry if I…made a scene or anything…earlier, with Jason. I really didn’t mean to, he just drives me crazy, and he’s so disrespectful and immature and I–”

Tony holds his hands up. “Peter, it’s okay. You didn’t cause a scene, really. I don’t blame you for anything you’ve done, and honestly, I believe you when you say he’s an ass. He looks like the type to me.” Tony grimaces.

“Thanks. Yeah, he is. I mean, you would think I could have noticed before we dated for six whole months, but I was just stupid and…I don’t know.”

Tony nods, understanding as always.

Peter continues, “Like, we’re the same age, but I feel like emotionally I’m at least ten years older than him. It doesn’t matter if he has a PhD or owns his own company. That doesn’t make you mature, and it definitely doesn’t mean you know how to treat people with respect.” He takes the last sip of his fourth glass of champagne. “Sometimes I just…”

He looks at Tony. He’s standing closer to Peter than he remembers, listening intently as Peter vents. His lips are slightly open, and his goatee looks perfect.

“You just what?” Tony asks.

“I just…” Peter trails off. He notices that Tony has loosened his tie a little. He stares down at it as he says, “I just feel like…guys my age… they just never know how to treat me.”

Peter looks up, and Tony just gazes back at him, but something in his eyes is different. Peter thinks they look darker.

Then Tony clears his throat, and looks away, scratching his beard. He looks back at Peter.

“You should probably get off your ankle, Pete.”

Peter blinks at him. His ankle doesn’t even hurt anymore.

He shifts awkwardly where he’s standing. “Yeah. No, you’re probably right. I guess I’ll go sit down.”

Tony nods, stepping back from Peter a little. Peter sighs softly, and then hands Tony his empty glass.

Tony hesitates, hand freezing mid-air.

“Oh, right. I forgot.” Peter says.

“No, no. It’s okay. I’ll take it.” Tony grabs Peter’s glass, and turns to place it on the bar.

Peter gives Tony one more look, and then heads to find a seat on one of the couches. He can’t believe he forgot Tony hates being handed things. How many dumb things can he possibly do in one night?

He finds a seat next to Rhodey, who also seems to be resting his injury. But, Peter’s ankle hasn’t hurt all day. He knows it’s totally healed by now, and he’s honestly just wearing the boot to make the people around him feel better.

He can already feel his buzz wearing off. Stupid spider metabolism never lets him have fun for too long. Now he’s just exhausted, but his mind is racing.

Peter looks back around the room. He can hear Rhodey telling him a story about something to do with a tank, but Peter isn’t really listening.

He spots Tony across the room, talking with a group of important looking business executives. He’s smiling brightly, teeth shining and his tie is straightened again. He sips at a tumbler of whiskey that has a large round ice cube in it. The group around him laughs at something he says, and Peter wishes he could hear that far.

He rubs a hand over his face. Tonight has been so weird, and he just wants it to be over.

~

An hour or so later, the event finally does start to wind down, and Peter is able to find a moment to slip into the hall and head back to the quarters. He loosens his tie and starts to unbutton his dress shirt before he even reaches his room. This is the longest he thinks he’s ever had to wear a suit, and as much as he loves the fact that Tony got it for him, it’s starting to drive him crazy.

He’s never felt comfortable in a suit.

He can’t wear it like Tony can.

Peter showers and crawls into bed. He places his watch gently on his nightstand, rubbing a thumb over the cool glass of the face.

Sighing, Peter flops back onto his pillow. He’s so tired, champagne always makes him sleepy, but so much has happened tonight that he still can’t process. He stares up at the ceiling, thinking.

Peter is smart enough to know that only fools fall for Tony Stark. He knows that. But god, Tony had looked so good tonight. Hair and beard perfect as always, charming smile lighting up the room, schmoozing anyone and everyone he interacted with.

His suit was tailored perfectly, but all Peter really wanted to do was take it off him. Peter groans, rolling over and pressing his face into his pillow.

Worst of all, it was the way he looked into Peter’s eyes tonight that nearly made his heart burst.

He’s fucked.

Notes:

getting a little spicier up in here ;)