My Peter

He blinked his eyes open, instinctively pressing himself further into the comfort by him. He pressed a flat hand against warm skin, exhaling slowly, relief flooding through him. He'd made it through to morning- and he'd had no dream. The nightmares that haunted him every night since it all happened weren't there. A pleasant warmth blossomed in his stomach as he enjoyed the bliss of his surroundings. He felt comforted. And peaceful. And happy.

Peter's face was pressed up to someone, his cheek appreciating its pillow. His mind didn't stay foggy for too long, as he quickly realised he'd fallen asleep again with Tony- something he was kind of use to doing, since he didn't seem to be able to sleep anywhere else. It was an unspoken thing. They rarely spoke or held long conversations about anything- it was almost awkward- but then, at the same time, it wasn't at all. Tony was always there, and he never made it weird. He always left a space by him in bed, in case Peter had a panic attack in the middle of the night and needed someone familiar. He was always welcoming.

But then, he inhaled the familiar musty scene and felt his senses nearly erupt. For a moment, his heart leapt, and he pulled his hand away from Tony's chest as if it were on fire. Never this... close. It was only when he realised Tony was awake that he realised he had nothing to worry about.

He looked up slightly from the crook of Tony's neck that he leant on, to meet Tony's comforting smile and squinty eyes. He looked down, making the creases in his neck stand out with age and the wrinkles by his eyes highlight every smile and laugh. The morning sun falling through the curtains lit up flecks of grey in his dark hair and scruffy stubble, but he still looked at Peter with the fondest smile, making him look more youthful than Peter had ever seen him.

"Sleep well?" he asked, voice still thick with sleep.

"Yeah," Peter kind of half croaked, half whispered, the morning clearly not agreeing with him.

"I should think so. You've made my arm go dead."

"Ah- I'm sorry," Peter cringed, leaning away from him in efforts to get off Tony's arm that was under his body. Tony just chuckled.

"I'm just teasing you, it's fine. Also, have I ever told you how much you suit those Hello Kitty pajamas?"

Peter cracked a small embarrassed smile, looking down at the old pajamas Tony had given him. They were the only ones he could find, since Tony had no want to keep old clothes. Luckily, Pepper had quite a few choices, none of them good ones.

"I hate you," Peter mumbled, yet still edged a little closer, wrapping his arm around Tony protectively. He felt Tony's laugh rumble and radiate through him.

"No, you don't."

He rested his forehead gently on Tony again, looking down at the centre into the glow of blue and the patterns that seemed to swirl inside the contraption in his chest. He loved the arc reactor. He felt a little bad. He could see this close the skin around it, the scarring and roughness of it. He knew, though Tony never spoke about it, that whatever happened to him in that cave probably wasn't something he wanted to remember. He knew he probably hated the thing.

But he loved it. He'd never seen anything like it before. He thought Tony was the most intelligent person in the world. It showed him how strong he was. He tapped it lightly with a finger, and felt almost overwhelmed when Tony just continued to let him do it. Maybe he did trust him. He bit his lip.

"Tony?"

"Mhm?"

He shrugged sheepishly.

"Do you... do you get nightmares? About Afghanistan?"

Tony's face remained emotionless for a moment, before his eyes flicked to meet Peter's. After a moment of thought, he smiled. A sad, slight, small smile, but enough to show he was willing to answer, A wave of relief flooded Peter, and he was happy he hadn't made him angry at least.

"Yes."

"I'm sorry," he said sincerely, his grip tightening in what he hoped was comfort on his back. He felt it as Tony let out a deep, shuddering breath.

"Don't be."

He didn't want to test the waters too much. He felt rude doing so. He felt like he was being too invasive. But curiosity got the better of him.

"What... what are they about?"

Peter hardly expected a reply at all. A long span of silence stretched out as the older man seemed to collect his thoughts, before his reply came in a soft, but slightly hollow whisper.

"Being in the dark. The chest pain. Waterboarding, mostly."

Peter felt him stiffen- but his heart rate seemed to stay the same. His chest welled with sadness. The great Tony Stark he'd grown up admiring so much for being fearless and badass. He cursed himself for being so stupid. he should have been admiring him FOR being afraid, yet being brave and strong all the way through. He had endless appreciation for the man.

"What's waterboarding?"

He barely heard it come out of his mouth because he was so nervous.

Again, it felt like a lifetime before the answer finally came. But it did.

Not from Tony, though. His eyes continued to watch Peter's, getting glassier by the second. Peter was about to apologise with a shaking voice, when Tony spoke.

"FRIDAY, what's the definition of waterboarding?"

"Wikipedia: Waterboarding is any one of several methods of torture performed by pouring water over the nose or mouth of an immobilized person, causing the individual to experience the sensation of drowning."

Oh.

He cringed inwardly at the thought. It'd give anyone nightmares. He thought briefly back to hearing about Tony when he was much younger. He'd been kidnapped for weeks- months maybe? He wasn't sure. Did he have to go through that regularly..? Did it still have such a long lasting effect on him?

He must have been thinking for a long time, for Tony tapped him lightly on his head after a while.

"Hey. Don't worry about me."

"How do you know I was?" He retorted, not rudely, but cheekily enough to make Tony crack a smile and roll his eyes. He brought a hand up- to ruffle his hair, making it fall in the kids face.

"You always worry about me."

He wasn't wrong.

"Says you."

Tony shakes his head.

"I have every single reason to be worried about you."

Peter exhaled, holding onto Tony a little tighter. He responded by curling his fingers tighter through his hair and leaning his head down to rest on Peter's. It was comforting. Peter knew what he meant by that, even though he knew he could never say it out loud. He had to watch him fade to dust in his arms. He had every right to be worried.

"But seriously," Tony said quietly, "I don't have many issues with that anymore. I do- I won't lie, but that's just how it is. It gets better."

Peter hoped he could feel him nodding against his chest in understanding.

His touch was so calming. He felt like it must be reaching noon, by the bright light through the curtains, but he couldn't find the will in him to get up. Every fibre of him was weighing him down, the air heavy, even though he knew he was strong enough to lift the bed- with Tony on it. He just wanted to sleep. Not worry about anything. He wanted comfort from someone. Not anyone- he felt so weary of people and who he could trust. No, he wanted Tony. The one person he trusted the most right then. The one person he'd been trusting for a long time.

"We don't need to get up... do we?" Peter mumbled groggily. He knew he wasn't going to be able to get to sleep again- and he knew by the sensation of Tony's fingers winding through his curls at a steady pace that Tony wasn't going to sleep either.

"No."

"Good."

Tony's breath tickled against Peter's ear.

"So is this okay?"

Peter almost laughed at the anxiety filled doubt that left Tony's mouth.

"If it wasn't okay I wouldn't be here letting you play with my hair and cuddling up to you closer."

"Touché."

And so that's how they stayed for at least another hour. Exchanging quips and chatter every once in a while, but overall just resting their eyes, enjoying each others company and seeking comfort in one another. Peter liked his hair being played with way more than he'd have liked to admit. He relished in the protective feeling he got from Tony holding him so close. He didn't care that he was acting about 6 years old when he was 17. He loved the simplicity of it. He forgot about it all.

"I love you, dad."

Silence.

He felt a blush creep onto his cheeks, but he just let it happen, let the word settle into the soft atmosphere around them. Tony's hands stop moving for half a precious second. Then he chuckled.

"Yeah?" He laughed incredulously. When Peter felt brave enough too meet his eye, he looked up to see Tony's face lit up in amusement, adoration, something- and his eyes almost scrunched shut, as if he just couldn't help but laugh.

"Whatever. I didn't- I just- I didn't mean it to be... ah, don't rub it in," Peter mumbled, pulling up the sheets tight around his chin.

"No, no. I'm not. I'm sorry. I'm just... I don't know. I'm not cut out to be a dad. I can write you an encyclopaedia on why I'd be the shittest father. I'm not laughing at you. I'm laughing at me. Hell, you're the most amazing kid I know. I've just never... seen myself like that..."

"Open your eyes, then," He said, softer.

Tony did, and he just seemed to melt. Silence stretched on as he just looked at the kid in front of him, and watching his was like watching a puzzle clicking together.

It was true. He wouldn't have said it if he didn't mean it. Tony Stark meant everything to him. He was the only one he felt truly knew him- both sides of him- he was always there, they had the same interests, they seemed to bring the best out in each other constantly. He knew Tony truly cared for him and he'd never let him down. Tony always thought he let Peter down, but that was complete bullshit. And then Titan... and they'd got through it. Tony had always tried to be very blasé and casual, formal- but after it happened, that's when Peter knew that he'd been right all along, Tony did cared. He hadn't left his side. And then they were clinging to each other as if each others lives depended on it.

If there was anyone he could call a father, it was Tony.

It seemed to have got to Tony a bit. After the initial shock of it, he stopped laughing nervously, and he just stared at Peter as if he didn't believe what he was hearing. Pete saw beads of tears start to appear in his eyes.

Tony Stark, cry? He must be something special.

He was met, finally, with a bone breaking hug. The older mans head fell into the crook of Peter's shoulder, his short hair tickling his neck. They were so close their legs overlapped, the rising of Tony's chest could be felt against his own. He couldn't really believe he'd said that. And he couldn't believe how genuinely overcome Tony was.

"I love you too."

It was his turn to feel tears in his eyes. He hugged back tightly.

"Don't let me go," Peter whispered.

"Fuck no. Never again. Peter Parker, I adore you."

"