Obsession

Peter can be obsessive. He loves too much and too hard. That’s fine though, for his obsession makes him an observant lover. A careful one. Peter’s devoted. There’s not a line that he isn’t willing to cross to protect his loved one. 

People tend to forget that, but he’s always happy to remind them.

Tony Stark didn’t trust easily. He’d been betrayed far too many times to wear his heart on his sleeve. He was an important man, and that meant that he had enemies.

Tony didn’t like traitors. He didn’t take kindly to them and more often than not dealt with them personally. Being the sole center of Tony Stark’s attention was never a good thing.

Under the man’s watchful blue eyes was where hopes withered and people died.

People were so wrapped up in all that was Tony Stark that they often forgot about his shadow, Peter.

Peter Parker, who had no boundaries. Peter Parker, who pressed buttons and killed men for the fun of it. Peter Parker, who thrived under Tony Stark’s gaze, who actively sought the older man’s full attention. Peter Parker, whom Tony Stark trusted, even if the man himself didn’t know.

Peter Parker, who would do anything for his loved ones.

Anything.

Peter had his own infamous reputation before joining the Stark empire and people often forgot that as well. When people saw him, they saw a cock-hungry boy hanging off Tony’s arm, instead of the bloodthirsty assassin he truly was.

Their mistake really.

While Tony usually dealt with traitors and snitches personally, he always sent someone else to find them. Sure, he could make his AI do it, but he enjoyed sending assassins after them. 

Enjoyed dealing with them after they’d been chased by what can only be described as a half-feral man. Also known as The Winter Soldier.

Honestly, the underground and their names, though Peter couldn’t really talk. The Spider was definitely worse than The Winter Soldier.

Sometimes though, Peter asked to track them down. Ever since he settled down with Tony he’d been going out less and less. It was really starting to cramp his style, and he could already feel his muscles losing their definition. Not to mention his blades were getting dull from disuse.

But Tony rarely ever asked Peter to do something for him. He ordered and demanded but he never asked, and never about something outside of their relationship.

Honestly? Peter was disappointed. He wished his daddy would watch him cause pain, would ask and urge him to. As it stood, Peter was like a pet, trained to be domestic despite his carnivorous heritage.

But the fact of the matter was, Peter was fully and overwhelmingly in love with Tony. The problem was that he wasn’t the only one.

Tony Stark was a handsome man, to say the least. He was charming and attractive, rich and powerful and that draws attention. Draws fans. 

Peter usually doesn’t mind. He likes watching people drool after Tony and glare at Peter ‘cause he’s the only one that gets to enjoy him. Because he has Tony all to himself.

But people can be disturbed. They yearn for what they can’t have to the point they’ll do anything to get it. Tony had people to deal with fans like that. He has guards and assassins and himself. 

But he forgets that he also has Peter. Peter who would without question do anything for Tony. Peter, who’s been out in the field on his own, without a company or a person to have his back. Peter who can recognise his obsession with Tony in others.

Peter had been watching Quentin Beck for a long time. Quentin Beck had been watching Tony for longer. The man wasn’t obvious about it, he was smart, no doubt, and though he wasn’t violent, he was unpredictable. And unpredictability was dangerous.

Peter prided himself on his booksmarts, but when it came to streetsmarts he was a bit lacking. He couldn’t read people like Natasha nor could he notice things like Clint. He could admit that he relied heavily on his powers when it came to fighting, but when things came to Tony he was always cautious.

He didn’t like hearing the same name come from Tony’s mouth too much, and when someone had been brought up too much Peter would start paying attention.

Recently, Tony had been talking about one Quentin Beck. He’d gone on and on about the man’s brilliant creations, and if Tony Stark was giving praise to someone else then his work had to have been something.

But Tony rarely ever praised people for excelling, not in the way he was praising Quentin. He’d give due where due was earned but he wouldn’t let you live long enough to revel in it. Tony Stark took no risks, if someone was even remotely better than him he’d deal with them immediately. And yet Beck still wasn’t dead.

He was happily skipping around, working on his creations and getting closer to Tony with it. Too close, suspiciously close. Peter saw each glare the man threw Tony’s way when he wasn’t paying attention, and heard every hateful mumble. 

He’d brought it up to Bucky who’d assured him he’d keep an eye peeled and yet no move to remove Beck had been made.

So Peter was going to have to take things into his own hands. He didn’t mind, not really. He was always eager, always willing, to spill blood in Tony’s name.

So he’d approached Beck. He’d have to play the long game, seeing as he was still unsure of Beck’s intentions. Unsure of his motives and his loyalties. He’d expected to have to win Beck over, or to be met with scepticism but the man had welcomed him eagerly.

They became friends almost immediately and more than once Peter forgot his mission. He was getting attached, he realised distantly, the friendship he and Quentin had was not as one-sided as he’d originally planned. 

Regardless, he’d carry out his plan.

He brought up Tony in conversation a lot, watching Quentin’s reaction carefully. He was a good actor, Peter would give him that much, but he was no match for Peter’s enhanced senses.

He saw each twitch of disdain, heard the stall in his breath and felt the shaking of the ground as he shook his leg in agitation. Quentin didn’t like Tony, that much he knew, but why was still unknown. And whether that dislike was going to get in the way of his work for Tony.

One didn’t have to like Tony to know their place under his boot. ‘Fear keeps people in line, not love’ as Tony liked to say. So he pressed, to see how deep that fear was, to deepen it himself.

“Why don’t you like Tony?”

“What? Says who?”

“You, silly.” Peter giggled, playing his character effortlessly. People saw Peter as some dumb, giggly cocksleeve. He was used to being underestimated, used to using that in his favour. He’d play into the image people had of him until it was too late. “You said you didn’t like him as a person.”

Quentin’s eyes studied him thoughtfully, squinting in doubt.

“I don’t remember saying such a thing.” He murmured, suspicious. Peter allowed himself a brief moment of panic, wondering if he’d pushed too hard. If he just blew his cover because he thought he could outsmart Quentin. Because he underestimated him despite knowing better.

But then the man leaned back, snorting softly.

“My bad. You don’t mind do you? Me not liking your boyfriend?”

“He’s a hard man to like, even I can admit that.”

“Hm. You won’t go tattling on me will you?”

“No,” Peter assured, smiling at Quentin as he rested his head on the desk, “there’s no need. Plus, Mr. Stark doesn’t care about who doesn’t like him. If they aren’t a problem then he tends to leave people alone.” That wasn’t entirely true, but Peter wouldn’t be alive if he had problems with lying.

“That’s convenient. Did you like him when you first met?”

“I asked you first.”

“Fair enough. He’s a prick is why, no offense. And I know that he’s just waiting for me to finish my project so he can steal it. He’s selfish and greedy. What he has is never properly appreciated and never enough.”

Jealousy then. Envy was dangerous, it drove people crazy with desire. He needed to test how far gone Quentin was.

“And you think you could appreciate what he has better?”

“Oh I know I could. Your turn.” Peter thought his next words carefully. He was shameless in his lust for Tony, but no one else knew that. Except maybe Bucky of course. He couldn’t outright say he was drooling after Tony’s cock long before he’d met him. He needed to win Quentin over, to earn his trust.

“No, I didn’t like him originally. But he just had to have me and he’s nothing if not persistent.” Well, Peter was the persistent one, but what Beck didn’t know couldn’t hurt him. “Why do you still work for him even if you know his intentions?”

“Because no one says no to Tony Stark. The man could finish my work on his own if he so desires, but he wants to improve it. He wants to prove himself better, smarter.” Quentin isn’t wrong, and that’s what worries Peter. He knew Tony well, too well. “If you didn’t like him then why’d you stay with him?”

“Because no one says no to Tony Stark.” Peter quoted, not that he’d wanted to say no. Quentin got lost in thought for a second, his eyes glazing over and darkening. “If someone gave you the opportunity, would you betray him?”

“Would you?” Quentin shoots back, leaning forward so his elbows are supporting his body weight on the table. “Do you love him Peter?”

“I asked you first.”

“Do you love him?” Peter needed to choose his response very carefully. He wasn’t sure what Quentin wanted to hear. What was he thinking?

“We shouldn’t have this conversation here.” Peter said in lieu of a response. He needed time to think. To plan his next move and make decisions that required time. Quentin smiled, looking relieved and proud.

“You’re right. Maybe later, after work? Would Tony let that happen?”

“I’ll ask. Just message me when you get off.”

“Course.” They stopped talking about Tony, moving onto lighter subjects. Peter left after an hour had passed, not wanting Tony to know he’d dropped by. He’d told FRIDAY to keep it between him and her, but Tony visited the labs often and Peter did not want to get caught. 

He made his way home, sending Tony a goofy selfie before pocketing his phone. He’d stuck his tongue out his mouth by the side, a smile pulling his lips wide and his eyes looking up at the phone. He felt his phone vibrate in his back pocket, but elected to ignore it, knowing Tony never responded immediately.

Tony was a powerful man and with great power came great responsibility. More often than not Tony would spend his days at work while Peter was left to entertain himself.

Usually he’d work in their personal lab or read or hang out with his friends or go shopping or play games or something other than stand on a pavement and think.

He hated to admit it but Peter was nervous. He felt like the little boy from Queens who’d just gotten his powers and didn't know what to do. He was confused and unsure, questioning each thought and each action. He prided himself on helping his daddy build and maintain his empire, but he wasn’t sure if he was helping. Wasn’t sure if help was needed.

He’d always been better at science than mind games. Machines were easy to understand, numbers and data made sense, pain made sense, but humans were contradicting. They didn’t stick to certain laws. They didn’t have one truth so much as they had multiple. Peter didn’t know how to deal with people.

He’d gone in over his head. He thought about asking Natasha for help, but she’d question him and he didn’t trust her. She may have been Tony’s friend but she was an agent first and foremost. She didn’t work for Tony, but rather with him, and Peter didn’t trust anyone who didn’t kneel to Tony.

No one was better than her though when it came to reading people, though. Not even Bucky and that was saying something.

But Peter wasn’t a quitter. He’d much rather beat the shit out of Quentin than try to manipulate him, but Tony had warned him not to hurt any more of his employees. A shame, really, but he was a good boy.

When in doubt, call MJ. Peter called Michelle sitting through her complaints about how long it’s been since she’d last saw him.

“Sorry MJ, been kind of busy these days.”

“Busy with what? Last I heard you’re unemployed. That boyfriend of yours better not be keeping you holed up.”

“He’s not.” Peter assured, smiling fondly at the sky. God, he missed her. “Actually I needed some advice.”

“Of course you do. We all know you can’t be trusted alone. I’m surprised it took you this long.”

“MJ.” Peter whined.

“Don’t ‘MJ’ me. I want regular visits. And a dinner date. Pick me up at the end of my shift.”

“Gross.”

“Shut up. What’d you need help with?” 

“Say you needed to get information out of someone, but you couldn’t just outright ask them and you need to play into a role-”

“Peter, you and I both know you’re a bad liar..” She was wrong about that, not knowing what Peter did where the light of the sun couldn't reach, but he wasn’t going to tell her that.

“Yeah but right now lying is the safest. And I look at it more like acting than lying. Makes it easier.”

“What have you gotten yourself into? Is this about your boyfriend?”

“What? No, this isn’t about Tony. Well, not really. He isn’t an active part of the equation.”

“Just be straightforward with them? It’s as simple as that.” Peter held back a remark about it not being as simple as that.

“It’s a sensitive topic. I just need to confirm a suspicion. But if I’m wrong then I could be fueling a flame.”

“Do you think you’re wrong?”

“No I just...I don’t think I’m entirely right.”

“Well if the end result is the same then why does the process matter? Sounds like you’re overthinking the whole thing, Pete.” Peter thought about her words for a second, strolling in the streets of New York.

“I hate when you’re right.” He grumbled.

“And I’m right so very often.”

“Yeah yeah whatever. So what should I do?”

“Follow your gut. Also I gotta go. My boss has been glaring at me this whole time but you sounded distressed.”

“Pfft. Thought you were your own boss.”

“Fuck off, Parker. I was serious about that date later.”

“I can’t. MJ? She hung up.” Peter sighed, pocketing his phone and looking around. He didn’t really want to go home, but he knew there wasn’t much to be done. 

Plus, he hadn’t told Tony he was going out and he wasn’t in the mood for another punishment. 

Home it was. 

-

His phone vibrating is what shook Peter out of his lego building zone. He stretched, pulling his phone closer to him and checking the messages. He ignored Tony and MJ’s texts, opening Quentin’s first.

Beck: I need you to get here right now. It’s an emergency.

Peter felt his heart pound with genuine worry, the emotion confusing him. He wasn’t supposed to care about Quentin, but he’d grown fond of the man over the time they spent together. 

Bits and pieces of his true self slipped outside the carefully built character he’d made. It was worrisome and startling to realise Quentin got past his defenses but he’d deal with that later.

He shot off from his seat on the floor, grabbing his jacket as he walked out.

“I’m going out, FRI.”

“Of course, sir. Where will you be?”

“Uh - just tell Tony I’m out with MJ.”

“Yes sir. Have fun.”

“Thanks.” With that Peter rushed out the house, dialing Quentin’s number as he walked quickly. He picked up on the third ring.

“Quentin? Are you okay?”

“I can’t talk right now. I’ll text the address.” Quentin hung up, Peter’s phone vibrating with the text of a location. He made his way there. Calming his racing heart and reminding himself of his mission. Regardless of his feeling towards Quentin he had a job and he would finish it.

Peter was reliant on his powers. They rarely ever failed him, getting him out of tight situations far too many times. His most finicky power had to be his Spidey-sense, as he called it. He wasn’t sure of the science behind it and barely understood how it worked. 

He’d theorised it had less to do with someone else’s intention and more to do with his perception of a person’s actions.

So, really, he shouldn’t have been surprised when it failed him again, but nonetheless he was still confused when he woke up tied to a chair, his head threatening to split open but his Spidey-sense quiet. He didn’t remember anything outside of leaving the house, his memory and mind hazy with what he assumed was drugs.

Leave it to him to get kidnapped. God, his daddy was going to be so mad. Things always happened when he was trying to be good.

He tugged on his restraints, realising it had to be some sort of reinforced metal. Either that or his strength was failing him. Either was believable, the drugs still coursing through his system stronger than they ought to be with his advanced metabolism.

He looked around, his eyes straining in the dark. His powers really had to be down if he was having so much trouble just seeing.

“Hello, Peter. Good to see you awake.” An unbodied voice said from the darkness. And oh, he knew that voice.

“Quentin?”

“The one and only.” His voice was coming from everywhere, as if he’d placed speaker’s in every corner of the room and was speaking through them.

“Where are we?” Peter pressed, squinting as if he could find Quentin in the dark.

“Don’t worry about that, Pete. You’re safe here, with me.”

“Hate to say it but I’m not really feeling safe. What's with the drugs and restraints?”

“From what I hear,” Quentin declared, his spite clear through his tone, “you tend to like being restrained.”

“Not like this. We didn’t even talk about safewords. Come on man, where’s the kink etiquette?”

“My bad, I’ll be better next time.”

“Next time,” Peter muttered, “What’s this about?”

“Can’t you tell?” At Peter’s silence Quentin laughed. It was short and humourless. “And here I thought you were smart. This, Pete, is about you. Always has been.”

“Me?”

“Peter Parker, or should I say, The Spider. Not many people know about your alter-ego but it was easy to figure out with a little research.”

“Speed up the explanation.”

“Ah, I can’t imagine you talk to Tony like that. Did you know you’re the longest he’s ever kept a pet after Pepper-” Who the fuck was Pepper? “Potts. Although I’m not sure I should compare the two of you. He genuinely loved Pepper but you...you’re just a hole to fuck.”

“What’s your point, Quen?”

“My point, Peter, is that he doesn’t deserve you. He treats you as less when you are so much more. You deserve better, can have better. So I’ll ask you again, do you love him?”

“Wait wait wait. I deserve better? And what, you’re better? That’s quite a big declaration, claiming yourself better than Tony Stark.”

“I can treat you better. I can treat you like the royalty you are. I’ll treasure you properly, appreciate you fully.”

“And what? Tony can’t?”

“He’s conceited and self-centered. He doesn’t care about anyone else. Doesn’t love or trust. You’re wasted with him! You said it yourself, you never liked him!”

“I get it now.” Peter breathed, realization clearing the haze that his mind still was. “You’re jealous of Tony, ‘cause he has me. It’s me, not his money, not his power, me. I should’ve guessed. Stupid stupid stupid.”

“Please, Pete. We can leave together. You just have to say yes.”

“Come out. Let me see you.” A hand dropped down on his shoulder, startling Peter. “Christ.” Peter yelped, eyes on Quentin as he walked around the chair, stopping when he was fully facing Peter.

“Let me tell you something, Beck. I lied. Believe it or not I was the one chasing after Tony so he could dick me down.” Quentin’s face squinched in disgust, his eyes hardening at the mental image. 

Before either of them could say something the sound of muted vibrations reached their ears.

Quentin pulled Peter’s phone out from his pocket, staring at Peter’s phone in disdain before flipping it for Peter to see. MJ was calling. Stealing a glance at the time, Peter started thinking. 

It was seven p.m., three hours after he’d left the house and two hours after MJ finished work, one hour before Tony was expected home. Quentin let the phone ring, waiting for it to finish before unlocking it.

Peter had been careless when using it in front of Quentin, not noticing the way the other would lean forward to look. In Peter’s defense, he didn’t expect to be the one kidnapped. He’d underestimated Quentin, a stupid mistake, really.

“How cute.” Beck murmured, turning the phone so Peter could see the goofy selfie Tony had responded with. His face was squinched up, his eyes crossed and his tongue sticking out. “There’s only two ways out of this situation Peter. Either you come with me or I leave you dead here.”

“I’ll take my chances with death. A friend told me she’s actually pretty hot. Who knows, maybe I can win her over?”

“Why? Why are you making me do this? I love you, Peter Parker. I love you so fucking much. And obviously were compatible! You don’t have to love me now, I’m sure you’ll grow to love me regardless, but you have to come with me.”

“I don’t have to do shit for you, Beck. Tony Stark is my life and one without him isn’t a life worth living. So kill me, kill me right here and right now.” They were silent, staring each other down, Beck’s gaze unsteady with an inner turmoil.

“Look what he’s done to you. He’s brainwashed you. Do you know? Tony is capable of sharing his Extremis and using it to bend people to his will. You’re just another test subject.”

“You should watch your mouth Beck, lest Mr. Stark cut it off.”

“Tony Stark isn't shit.”

“Wanna say that again?” A third voice dared, his voice echoing in the dark room. Peter instantly relaxed into his seat, gazing smugly up at Beck.

“Stark!” Almost immediately after Beck yelled, Tony’s suit lit up, as though in affirmation. The room was illuminated with the soft blue glow of Tony’s suit, the man himself looking godly.

“Thought you were smarter than that, Beck. My baby loses phones so easily, but one thing he always brings with himself is, of course, himself.”

“You put the tracker inside him.”

“He put the tracker in himself.” Tony corrected, walking closer towards Beck while speaking.

“Care to explain why you have my baby all tied up to a chair?”

“You don’t deserve him Stark. Never did, never will.”

“Do I deserve to be rich? To be powerful? No, I’m a fucking asshole. Yet, here I am. I entertained you, Beck. Not ‘cause you deserved it but because I wanted to. Do you understand or do I need to spell it out for you? I get what I want. Deserve and earn have nothing to do with it.”

Beck scowled, his gaze flying between Peter and Tony. Abruptly, he turned, making a dash for what must've been the exit. Before he could get very far, the blue light was devoured by a deep, blood red, Beck blasted by a beam of energy.

Tony walked past Peter, passing a gauntlet covered hand through his hair before focusing his attention on Quentin. The blue light shining through his armor was replaced by an angry red, the room covered in the colour of Tony’s rage. 

It was magnificent, orgasmic and heavenly, overwhelming in its intensity.

“I don’t deal well with disrespect. And this has got to be the highest form of disrespect. To think you had the gall to even look at Peter, to think yourself worthy of him, better than me. The audacity to say my name and speak ill of me. I thought you smart, Beck, but time and time again you prove yourself stupid. I’ve been far too lenient.”

Tony pointed his gauntlet at the fallen body of Beck, the whirring of it powering up filling the empty room as he prepared the final blow.

“Wait!”

Tony stopped, looking up to stare at Peter in confusion. Peter himself didn’t know why he stopped Tony, but killing Quentin seemed...wrong. Tony squinted, glaring at Peter from where he stood. 

“You’ve sided with him haven’t you?! You’ve joined him in his betrayal!” Tony blurted, turning his full attention to Peter. He was never fearful under his daddy’s gaze; intimidated, anticipating, worried and anxious, but never afraid, and this time was no different.

“Of course not!”

“Then explained to me, dear Peter, why we are having this conversation.”

“I...I...”

“Well we can’t have that, can we? No…” Tony agreed, making his way back to Peter and breaking him out of his cuffs. It took a combined effort for them to get it off, Que-Beck obviously knowing what he was doing. “Kill him.”

“What?”

“Kill. Him. I want you to go over there and strangle him. Go on. And I want your eyes open and on him until his pulse stops. You hear me?”

“Yes sir.” Peter muttered, standing from the chair and making his way over. It was different from Vaugn. Quentin was different from Vaugn, and Peter didn’t know why. Sure he and Vaugn weren’t on the same IQ level, but he still had fun and engaging conversations with the other man, so why was Beck special?

“Peter don...don’t do this. Please. He’s using you. You’re a toy! You mean nothing to him and sooner or later he’s gonna cut you off. Please.” Beck begged, holding his hands in front of his face, to protect or surrender, Peter wasn’t sure. Peter sneered, forcing himself to see Beck as nothing more than a target.

Memories of shared orange juice, late night heart to hearts and science conversations distracted Peter, but he pushed them away, shoving them deep into the recesses of his mind. His daddy asked him to do something and he was going to deliver.

He made to straddle Beck’s chest, but found himself falling through his body and onto the floor. He huffed, looking up at Tony in confusion. Said man was glaring at where Beck’s prone form had been, eyes red and angry.

“Daddy?”

“An illusion, huh. Did you help him set me up? Was this all part of the plan?”

“What? Of course not I-”

“Come.” Tony demanded. Instantly, Peter was standing in front of Tony, his eyes downcast. Tony grabbed Peter’s face, his hand encompassing his jaw and forcing his head up. “You wouldn’t betray me, would you?”

“To betray you would be to betray myself, sir. I am lost without you.” Peter assured, honestly. One look at Tony had been enough for Peter to drown in the man, losing himself in all that was Tony until he wasn’t sure what or who he was without the other man.

“Hm. Yet you hesitate to follow my orders. Disobey them, even. Should I find myself suspicious of your intentions, Parker, I will not hesitate to remove your head from your neck.” Tony warned. 

Peter stared at his red, glowing eyes, floating in the angry colour. He nodded, at a loss for words. 

“Good. This conversation is not done. Find yourself home.” Tony murmured, walking away from Peter and flying away.

He remained where he was, watching the suit of armor disappear. He didn’t know why he was so shaken, overwhelmed to the point of confusion. He didn’t know what he was feeling or why he was feeling it. 

He looked down at his trembling hands, images of people long gone and blood long washed off flashing behind his eyes.

‘He genuinely loved Pepper’

‘Sooner or later he’s gonna cut you off’

‘You’re a toy’

‘I will not hesitate to remove your head from your neck’

'You’re just another test subject'

He was always happy to have Tony’s attention, no matter what form it came in. He knew he was more than just a toy, that he meant something to Tony, had always been firm and confident in that belief, so why was he suddenly doubting himself? Doubting Tony?

He glanced over at where Beck’s corpse should be and wondered if that would be him at some point. If Tony’s paranoia would win over his trust in Peter.

He’d never feared death, and preferred he’d die in battle or die by Tony, yet he felt a bitter feeling growing at the thought of dying at Tony’s hands.

How peculiar.