Chapter 8
Peter and Harley had been… strange with Tony lately.
He couldn’t put his finger on what it was, he didn’t mind it at all, but it was still extremely strange. They’d been a little more touchy with him, lingering touches when passing something off, or a hand on his back if one of the younger men had to walk past him. They’d been increasingly more openly affectionate with each other in front of him, whispering and giggling while in each other’s embrace, sometimes giving Tony a look while doing so. They also made time to do more activities with all three of them.
Most of Tony loved it.
The other part was fucking terrified.
He felt like it was too good to be true. They’d always been amazing to him, sweet, even, but this felt different and he could not explain why. It kept him up at night, often times literally. Hours thinking about the two men on the other side of the wall, how sometimes he would hear them laugh, or hear the tv in their room play the same sitcoms over and over, and how he wanted to be with them, but he was also scared.
Finally, realization hit him. The affection, the kindness, the stares and laughs in his direction, the way they included them in more things than normal. It could only mean one thing.
He was about to get kicked out.
It shouldn’t be a big deal. He was a literal billionaire with properties across the world. He could literally live anywhere he wanted.
But he wanted to live HERE.
He didn’t want to live on a private island surrounded by white beaches, or an Italian villa with the greatest sunset views imaginable, or even a completely different galaxy. All of those places were without Peter and Harley. They had undeniably become his home.
Fuck. He was in deep, wasn’t he?
He’s never seen another person, or people, as a home before. His home was his lab, or a cliffside house in Malibu, or the penthouse in Manhattan, or the village in Italy his mom would take him to on vacation. Now he had two homes: Peter Parker and Harley Keener.
And now he was losing both of them.
Logically, he knew that he was not losing them. They’d still be living near each other, they’d still come over to work in the labs and have dinner with him, and maybe some of the Avengers now that Harley has gotten acquainted with them. He’d still find ways to spoil them rotten.
He just, you know, wouldn’t be living with them and seeing them everyday.
Yeah, that fucking sucks. That realization fucking sucks.
He needed to get his shit together. Mentally. Maybe physically, he did have a lot of stuff skewed around the house he’d need to find.
He began packing the things in “his” room first. It wasn’t his room. It was the guest room. He was ridiculous for thinking of it as his. He didn’t want it to be noticeable, and the other men in the house respected his privacy and didn’t come into his, no, the guest room, unannounced. Then, little by little, when they weren’t home, he grabbed a few things of his from certain parts of the house. Not all together, he didn’t want it to be obvious.
He had the outline of a plan set up in his mind. He would pack his things little by little, find a place to live outside of the state, and leave to catch the plane while Peter was at school and Harley was at work. He didn’t want to live far from them, far from his home, but he felt like he should, that he needed to. If he continued to live nearby, he’d get tempted, or his emotions would get the better of him.
Out of sight, out of mind, right?
—-
Peter and Harley began to notice things going missing. Well, mostly Peter, who paid more attention to detail. First it was the empty spot on the cabinet where Tony’s mug usually was. He shrugged it off, maybe it was in Tony’s room, or he accidentally took it to the tower and forgot to bring it back home. Then it was Tony’s laundry basket that had its own place in their bathroom. Peter shrugged it off again, it was probably in Tony’s room. He probably kept it in there after Peter folded his laundry last time. Then it was his pens on the kitchen counter, and his magnetic bottle opener that he kept on the refrigerator door, and the work boots he kept next to Harley’s next to the front door.
And then it was Tony.
Tony hadn’t disappeared, necessarily, but he was closed off. He spent more nights after dinner in his bedroom, not feeling like watching TV on the couch with Peter and Harley. He stopped staying for breakfast before going to the tower, leaving a note on the small whiteboard that was attached to the wall saying ‘wasn’t hungry, went straight to the tower’ next to the shopping list. He wasn’t as engaged as he used to be.
“Do you think we’re coming on too strong?” Peter asked Harley one night, snuggled in their bed with the TV playing soft noise in the background. They hadn’t really planned on coming on to Tony, it just started happening. They both wanted him, but they didn’t want to force him into their relationship.
“Maybe he just, I don’t know, needs more space. Maybe we’re gettin’ too touchy.” Harley said into Peter’s hair, hand rubbing gentle circles on the skin just below Peter’s shoulder. Peter just nodded in response, clearly anxious about the situation. Harley gave him a kiss on the head to try to relax him, but he knew Peter was still a ball of nerves.
Harley was also anxious about Tony’s behavior. He just wasn’t good at expressing it. Peter once told him that he tends to just suffer in silence and not ask for help, and that he should ask for help when he needs it. He’d gotten better at it, but Harley felt like this was a situation that he needed to work out in his mind. Look at it analytically. Look at all the pieces and put them where they needed to be and fix the problem.
Too bad Tony didn’t come with an instruction manual and none of the pieces were labeled.
—-
Tony felt like his heart was covered in soot. Peter and Harley had left for the day. He sat and ate breakfast with them for the first time in a while, enjoying the smiles he got from them when he sat down in his usual seat and served himself the eggs and sausage Harley had made. He said goodbye to each of them when they walked out the door, resisting the urge to give them both big hugs.
He hoped this wouldn’t break them.
No, it won’t, they’ve been waiting for him to move out for a while. He was taking up space in their home. Getting in between them. He could tell, they started going on fewer dates with each other by themselves.
That’s what he told himself at least.
This was better, for everyone. He needed to get over Peter and Harley, and they needed their home back. This was better for everyone.
That’s what he wrote on the note he left on the kitchen table, before he grabbed his suitcase, took his car keys off of the hook next to the front door, and left.