My Peter

"Shhh. Shhh, it's okay. I got you."

He held the smaller boy close to him, tightening his firm grip around his shoulders. The sounds seemed to subside slightly- the heavy breaths continued, though the whimpers had died down completely, and the screams almost felt like a bad dream.

He felt the teenagers heavy breaths tickling his neck, hot and anxiety filled, his body shaking slightly against the older mans. The kids hands grabbed at his own bare back, pressing sweaty palms into his shoulder blades. He cursed himself for not wearing anything other than shorts. He wouldn't blame anyone for thinking this was dodgy.

He cursed himself again as he thought of Peter. He was still half asleep- the poor kid didn't want this. He just needed someone, and unfortunately for him, Tony happened the be the first person available. Poor kid. He didn't want this. He didn't need this. Not from him.

Yet he had it anyway. Tony couldn't offer him anything else. Nothing aside from another body to seek comfort in, to curl up with as the night seeped into early day. It felt like hours and hours against the warm sheets he spent listening to Peter's panic attack roll on, when really he knew it had only been two minutes. He felt sick at how intimate it felt, thinking about Peter Parker and how he wouldn't be doing this at all if he was conscious- but there was nothing else he could do. He already felt the boy quieting and relaxing more as he held him, rubbed a strong hand over his clothed (thank god) back and ran his other unconsciously through his brown curls in hope of soothing him. This wasn't right. His own father should be doing this. Someone as significant as his mother. Not him. Not Tony Stark. Tony Stark, cuddling with a teenager. Who'd have fucking thought.

He grimaced- not because he hated the situation. He hated Peter being in pain. But he also felt... peaceful. He seemed to cherish the feeling of his hair between his fingers and the comfort he found in the younger one's body pressed against his own. He felt something he really didn't want to admit.

He pulled himself away slightly, so he could see his face. He looked down to see Peter's face twitch slightly in the soft blue glow of the arc reactor coming from Tony's chest. His expression, usually so soft and restful in sleep, was interrupted by nightmares. Tony hated it.

He bit his lip, continuing to hold Peter tighter, until the kid blinked, his bright eyes fluttering open and his breathing slowly evening out. Tony's breath caught in his throat for a moment. He went to move away. But he found he couldn't.

"Hey, Pete," He mumbled, loosening his already soft grip on his hair and holding his back tight instead of rubbing it. The teenager let out a shaky breath.

"Fuck." He blinked again, this time letting his eyes flick up and take in the older man's expression. Though he didn't move himself away, the grip he'd had around Tony's torso loosened and his arms became limp, his head leaned away from his chest where it lay. Even with the blue light, Tony could see the red flush violently into his expression. He immediately felt sick again.

"I'm sorry," Peter blurted, his eyes red and his breath still not quite normal. He shook his head as if trying to get rid of something. "That was... yeah- I'm sorry, I-"

"You're sorry..?" Tony interrupted, feeling lost as Peter's head moved and the last strands of hair fell through his fingertips. "You were the one having a nightmare."

The kid shrugged.

"Yeah."

The air became thick suddenly with silence as they both avoided each others eyes. Tony really didn't know what to do, what move to take. Maybe put a fucking shirt on? He should probably have taken the move to get away from him and leave the room.

But he couldn't do that.

Not when he was still shaking like that.

"What was it about? Was it about what happened on Titan..?"

Peter scrunched up his nose. "Yeah. I don't... wanna talk about it."

"Okay. That's fine."

Tony waited for a response, an explanation, anything. A request to go back to the guest room. He probably regretted ever staying in Tony's room, no matter how shit he felt. He'd slept in Tony's bed all nights except the first week they got back. He didn't blame him for not wanting to be alone. It was worse than he thought. Everything had fallen apart, Tony had to spend nights just waking up to hear shrill screams and watch him sweat and writhe. It was better than anything else that could have happened. It was a miracle he was still alive. But this was the first time something like this had happened. It had always been a tap on the shoulder, a light innocent nudge awake. reach over to rub his back to help the breathing. But it was never like this. Never like this. He couldn't help himself. He couldn't watch him hurt anymore.

Silence stretched over them somewhat comfortably and Tony relished in even the half hug they had managed to maintain. The tips of his fingers skimmed Peter's arm lightly, hoping to offer any sort of comfort. It wasn't his forte. But he'd sure as hell try.

Peter showed no signs of moving away, which brought comfort to Tony as he left his right arm slung loosely over his hip. He couldn't see his eyes as Peter looked down at his t-shirt, probably in deep thought. He smelt like stupid candy floss shower gel and dirt. Like all kids should. Tony supposed he smelled like sweat and petrol. He decided to not overthink it.

He just relished in it. The care for this teenager wasn't just care. It was something else. He cared for Peter like he'd never cared about anyone before, except maybe for Pepper. Not in that way though. God no.

No. It was something different. Something...

He almost shuddered.

But he didn't. Because it was Peter.

He thought he'd gone back to sleep and started dreaming again when the body moved in closer to him, less shaky now, more sure and controlled, and wrapped a long arm around his torso. Tony's breath hitched in the surprise of it, though let it happen, staying still as he felt Peter sink slightly down to his chest to rest his head there. His movements were slow and unsure, but he must have taken Tony's stillness as a sign of acceptance. Tony supposed his skin felt too warm, sweaty; the arc reactor must be too cold in contrast, hard and uncomfortable to lie on, yet there his head rested. He felt his other hand come up slowly to tap on the reactor, resting palm down against the transition where smooth skin turned to harsh metal. He nearly cringed, almost reminded of his own insecurities- but then Peter gave a deep breath that tickled on his chest and made him react immediately.

Without hesitation, he wrapped his arms around Peter in response, around his back, the other coming up to the back of his head, almost cradling him in a motherly fashion. He once again curled his fingers gently through his soft hair, emitting a soft hum in response from the teenager. It was almost funny that he was really nearly as tall as him.

"Tony."

Peter's soft voice rumbled through his body like a storm. Tony's chest welled with... something as his name fell sleepily from his lips.

"Yeah?" He almost breathed into the silence.

"Love you."

He barely caught it-- but he did, and he blinked suddenly as he felt his eyes water slightly. The night was quiet, the air was peaceful. The body that melted into his own was warm and full of what Tony felt he had really been needing for years, and he let himself lean down a fraction and plant a silent kiss into the mop of tousled hair he ran his fingers through.

"I love you too."

He was glad he said it. He knew he had too. If he didn't, it'd be too late.

It was too late last time. Then he was gone.

No way in fucking hell was he letting him go again.