Chapter 8
McKnight Takes Senate Seat; Owens, Stark Defeated.
That was the headline on November 9, the day after the election. Peter picked up the newspaper resting on his doormat, reading the words over and over again.
Despite everything, Tony had still lost.
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“Let me help you. Peter, please.”
Peter looked at Tony’s outstretched hand, itching to take it but knowing the consequences would be even worse for the both of them if he did. Shaking his head, he backed up even further. He didn’t miss the flash of pain that crossed Tony’s face, and hated himself for being the one to put it there.
“No, Tony. You need to go back in there and salvage what you can of your campaign. I need to go talk to Jameson and find out if I still have a job. After that-” Peter choked up, fighting through the next words. “After that, I think it would be best if we stayed away from each other for a while.”
“No,” Tony protested immediately. “Peter, I justfound you. I can’t lose you. We’re supposed to be in this together.” Peter shook his head, feeling like a broken record when he spoke again.
“I’m sorry, Tony. I can’t.”
He turned and rushed out of the building, ignoring the tears streaming down his face and the heartbroken way Tony called after him.
It hurt so badly to walk away, but he knew this was best. This was their best chance at fixing everything. Their best chance at getting everything back to normal.
If this was what was best, then why did it involve walking away from the man Peter had seen himself falling in love with?
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Closing the door, Peter stepped into his kitchen and dropped the paper onto the counter. That was his only connection to the world of journalism nowadays, since he wasn’t working and had resolved not to read any online articles after seeing some of the hateful comments aimed at him and Tony.
Luckily, he hadn’t lost his job. Jameson found the whole affair rather hilarious, citing a sharp increase in both website traffic and subscription sales. Besides that, he wasn’t willing to lose someone who was a damn good worker and had a Pulitzer prize to their name. Instead, he’d placed Peter on administrative leave until after the election.
“This is about protecting you. You need to get out of the public eye for a while, let this blow over. When things settle, and when you’re ready, we’ll get you right back into the swing of things.”
Peter grabbed a mug and a hot chocolate packet out of his cabinets, swiping the milk from the fridge and setting about making himself a mug of hot chocolate. Even though it wasn’t nearly as good as Tony’s, this had been his beverage of choice for the past week. He still couldn’t stand hot coffee, and the one time he’d attempted to venture out to a Starbucks for an iced one, he’d been stopped and questioned so many times on his walk that he gave up before he even got there.
Since then, he’d settled into a routine. Pick up the newspaper. Make a mug of hot chocolate. Shower and get dressed. Eat something for breakfast. Work on projects for Aunt May or around the apartment. Eat lunch and dinner at some point. Go to bed.
It was boring as hell, and Peter missed going to work. He missed being in the middle of breaking news, interviewing people and really getting to know them. He missed Ned’s constant interruptions and the sound of multiple keyboards being typed on in a single room.
Most of all, though, he missed Tony.
He missed the deep timbre of the man’s voice, the way he held onto Peter tightly even in sleep, the way he could kiss slowly and deeply one minute and then hot and desperate the next. He missed exchanging snarky remarks both in a room full of reporters and in Tony’s personal labs with a squirt gun in hand. He missed how easy it had been with Tony. How he didn’t feel like he had to hide or perform for anyone. He could just...be.
Knowing thinking about Tony wouldn’t do anything but make him feel even worse, he forced himself through the next steps of his routine. He showered and dressed in some black sweatpants and a blue long-sleeved shirt. Longer sleeves or layers had become a necessity as the autumn chill started to transition into winter weather. Peter fixed himself an omelette for breakfast, fighting back memories of shared laughter and shirtless cooks in a kitchen nothing like the one he stood in now.
Once he was finished, he settled in on his couch with May’s laptop in his lap. She’d been having issues with connecting to wifi, and had asked him to take a look.
“Well, given that I have unlimited free time because the world knows I fucked a billionaire, sure.”
Peter hadn’t actually said that, but he had really wanted to.
A few hours later, a knock at the door sounded and Peter looked up from the laptop, confusion written all over his face. May was working a shift at the hospital and Ned was staying away in case someone tried to follow him and find where Peter lived. No one should be knocking.
Peter stood up, placing his laptop on the coffee table and crossing over to the door. He opened it a tiny bit, prepared to slam it shut if he saw a camera on the other side.
What he saw couldn’t have been more different.
Tony Stark was standing on his doorstep, a bouquet of lilies in his hands and a baseball cap pulled low over his eyes. When Peter opened the door he pushed it up so they could make eye contact, both men frozen for a moment.
“Tony?” Peter asked as Tony simultaneously tried to greet him, opening the door more so they could stand in front of each other properly.. “What’re you doing here?”
“I had to see you,” Tony said, gripping the flowers a little tighter. “I’m guessing you saw the news.”
“I think everyone has,” Peter said, smiling a little bit despite everything. Tony snorted, nodding and looking down at the flowers he was holding. That must have served as a reminder, as the man jolted and looked back up, thrusting the flowers out to Peter.
“These are for you. I never got around to asking what type you liked, so I asked Ned. He said lilies were your favorite.” Peter took the flowers, gently tracing a petal with one finger.
“He was right,” he said softly, leaning in to sniff them. “Thank you, Tony.”
“You’re welcome.” The older man shifted on his feet. “Though I’ll admit I didn’t just come here for a flower delivery.” Tony shoved his hands in the pocket of his jeans.
“Why are you here then?” Peter whispered, tearing his gaze from the flowers and looking back up at him.
“I’m here to ask you to take me back,” Tony said, reaching out slowly for Peter’s hand, giving the man plenty of time to move away. When he didn’t, their hands clasped together and Tony held on tightly. “The election is over. I lost, but I’m okay with that, because,” After a beat of silence, he continued. “Because I found you along the way. Someone who challenged me to be the best version of myself - to put myself in other people’s shoes and see the world they view it rather than the way I do. Someone who isn’t afraid to put me in my place, but who can appreciate my snark and fire back some of their own.” The two shared a smile as Tony paused again, each lost in their own memories of their fiery conversations. “Someone passionate, who loves their job as much as I love mine and brings the same dedication to their craft as I do. Someone incredibly smart, who can definitely keep up with me and probably outsmart me, too.”
Peter wasn’t quite sure when he’d started crying, but he leaned into the touch when Tony gently wiped the tears from his cheeks.
“I’ll get down on my knees if you want me to, but I’m begging you. And I don’t beg.” Peter chuckled weakly, earning another smile from Tony. “Please take me back. You’re the best thing that’s happened to me in a long time, and as scared as I am of screwing this up, I’m even more scared of never trying.” Tony looked at Peter, his expression so eager and open and honest that the younger man swore he felt the walls he’d been trying to build around his heart crack a little bit.
“So, what are you saying? I’m your consolation prize? Lose the Senate, win a boyfriend?” Peter asked softly, making a move to pull his hand back. He was still a little skeptical - everything Tony was saying sounded just too good to be true. Too perfect.
“You’re not my consolation prize - you’re my everything, Peter.” Tony held on a little tighter. “You’re my inspiration to do better. You’re my motivation. My fierce reporter. My first scandal.” The two shared a soft laugh before Tony grew serious again. “And I think...I think that you could be my love. If you’ll let me. I know we’ve got a lot of stuff to work through, and I know it’ll be hard. But I know you’re worth it. We’re worth it.” Tony paused for a moment, cocking his head to the side ever so slightly. “What do you think?”
Once again, Peter was faced with a choice. He could close the door in Tony’s face and end this right now. He could forget any of this ever happened and move on with his life without Tony Stark. Or, he could let the man in. He could see if they were right about this crazy connection. They could find out together if they could love each other. If Peter let him in, he might just get everything he had back, and find something new and beautiful that came with it.
Peter opened the door with a smile.