Bonded
"I don't see why you insist on dumping this all on me," Bruce says in a tone very close to a whine. The beta is usually the unruffled, unflappable one in the small Stark Industries trio, Pepper the poised and confident jet-setting omega, Tony every alpha's nightmare. "You know, I'm actually considering going back to school to get a psychology degree."
"For me?"
"Because apparently you think I already have one and I like to actually be qualified." Bruce rubs his temples. "I need a drink. I never need a drink. You're driving me into an early, pickled grave."
"You're not my psychologist, you're my moral compass. Angel on my shoulder. Jiminy Cricket. So. What should I do?"
"I still can't condone a relationship with a fifteen year old. Peter cannot be trusted, in this situation, to give consent without feeling coerced."
"Yeah, okay, I reached that conclusion a month ago. What should I tell him about the bond?"
Bruce leans back in the ergonomic chair that Tony designed when he was thirteen and bored and left alone in his father's office for too long. It still holds up, one of his better early improvements on design that eventually led to original invention.
They're waiting for Pepper, who got caught up in a meeting. They're supposed to be having lunch and not talking about business which means that they will have lunch, argue more about the new direction of StarkMed, Pepper will snidely bring up coffee makers, Tony will pretend to be chagrined and actually be a little proud of how the unexpected unplanned launch has left them with thirty thousand back orders, Bruce will announce that he wrote a prestigious paper with important people in time that none of them really has, they will toast, Tony flirt with both of them, because it makes Bruce blush and Pepper preen. You know. A Tuesday.
"There's two interesting things here," Bruce muses. He really should be a psychologist, he's worked Tony through enough of these messes. "One, obviously this is more about clearing your conscience than doing anything for Peter, which is indication number one that you should keep it to yourself."
"Get to the 'but.'"
Bruce glares. "But as far as I know, bonds always work both ways. If you felt something, really felt something, all evidence says that Peter did, too."
"He was pretty freaked out. I think it was a little overwhelming."
"What, the national campaign photo shoot you dropped him in the middle of? The dozens of assistants helping him put his pants on? What part of that could possibly be overwhelming."
"Sarcasm is not a good look for you."
"I don't really know how to emphasize this any more than I already have, Tony: why don't you just go talk to Peter?"
Because he'd just been planning out how to keep the kid around longer, as his intern, get him the job and life he deserved, help him break as many barriers as he could with Tony Stark by his side - he'd just decided that he wanted to use his influence as a force for good in the world, when this bond happened and threw all his carefully laid plans out the window.
And what was he supposed to say? Hey, kid, I know I'm old enough to be your father and I know you've been working for me all summer and I know that one of the first times I ever met you I thought you were a prostitute but, hey, on top of all that, I think you may be my inadvertent bond mate.
Tony is going to say all this to Bruce - who he really should be paying some sort of hourly rate - when, like they were in some sort of comic book, that terrible timing, Peter's voice floats around the corner. "Talk to Peter about what?"
Bruce smiles. Bruce is probably getting a kick out of this whole damn thing. He shoots a pointedly raised eyebrow at Tony and claps Peter on the shoulder. "Come talk to me before you leave, Pete, I want to go over those genome sequences again."
"Did I do them wrong?" Peter asks, all puppy dog eyes.
"Not wrong. Just. Not entirely correct."
Peter shuffles under the gentle rebuke. "You know, I've never been great with bio-chem. I always pictured myself an engineer." He looks at Tony with a sort of the sort of helpless expression most often seen on wide-eyed damsels, and damn if it doesn't pull at every fiber of the alpha.
"Diversification is good for you," Bruce grunts. "Builds character." They're all lucky betas are more level-headed than the rest of them. The world would go up in smoke without them. "Plus if you want to patent that adhesive as a bandaging technology you could save millions of lives."
Peter blinks. "Oh, is that all?"
"Biology is where it's at kid, I'm telling you. It's the study of life. And, at least for me, it's the pursuit of a better quality of life for all." Bruce rubs the back of his neck. He always does when he starts philosophizing. "Anyway, come see me about those genomes. And remember, it's never too early to start publishing."
Peter cocks his head at Bruce as he walks out the door. "You know, Mr. Stark. I thought I was on top of everything. I'm signed up for the SATs and doing my extracurriculars. I thought I was a pretty above-average fifteen-year-old. But Dr. Banner has a way of making me feel like I don't know anything."
"He has that affect on people. The problem is that he's actually a genius. So he knows he's smarter than everybody else, he just usually doesn't rub it in your face." Tony gestures to his lab. "I'm many things - genius is one of them - but at least I let everyone know it. More honest that way."
He realizes too late that perhaps talking about honesty at this moment is not the most tactful way to go.
Tony clears his throat. He doesn't know how to have this conversation. The problem was that he doesn't know what he wants from Peter, other than the kid always being within arm's reach, preferably swaddled in bubble wrap. Of course Peter's attractive, and the fact that he's a fertile young omega occasionally wreaks havoc on Tony's alpha senses, but the more time Tony spends with him the more he realizes that Peter's also still so much a child. While the idea of sex with Peter is appealing in the abstract, every time the kid appears in front of him Tony doesn't feel the instinct to mate, just the overwhelming urge to protect.
He doesn't say any of this, of course, and the silence stretches on, Peter shuffling his feet and opening his mouth, only to shut it again.
Oh. Good. Maybe Peter can start this conversation. Maybe they can talk about school and sprockets and never mention the maybe-bond between them. "Spit it out, kiddo."
Peter seems to be turning over words in his mouth. He finally said: "it's been a weird few days, Mr. Stark."
"Tony," he corrected absent-mindedly. Something in Peter's tone, though, made Tony take notice. "Why? You been getting flak about the photoshoot? I know some of the ads are already running on YouTube."
"No! I mean - okay, yeah, people noticed that, but Ned, like, walks me to classes, and MJ's pretty scary, so no one's said anything, you know, worse than usual. They all already knew I was an omega, anyway. Someone in the neighborhood saw though, and that's been a little weird..." Peter trails off, then waves the thought away. "But, okay, that's not the point."
"It's a little the point," Tony said, that protective instinct rearing its head. "Your friend has to walk you to class?"
Peter seems to collapse in on himself. "I mean, I guess he doesn't have to. We just haven't tried to see, you know, what would happen if, you know. He doesn't." He adds, quickly, "Not that it's bad, usually. Just. Names."
"I been called plenty of names, kid. And even if they don't kill you I'm not entirely convinced it makes you stronger to be insulted. Especially at school."
"It's just high school. It's just. Going to high school as an omega." Peter isn't quite meeting Tony's eyes, but he does, literally, shake it off. "But I actually have something else to...report?" Peter shakes his head, as if mad at himself. "I'm sorry, I just don't know where to start."
Tony could let him muddle through this, but every part of Peter's body language screams that whatever he's trying to say might line up with what Tony is trying to say. "Did something else happen at the photoshoot?" Tony asks gently. He sits. He gestures to Peter to sit. This might be something that's better sitting down.
(what is this? an agreement? a proposal? will Tony have to ask Peter's aunt for permission? she'll kill him. and if she doesn't kill him, there's a certain cop who will definitely, one hundred percent kill him.)
(it's not my fault. it's biology. some - force in the universe - wants us to be together)
(he's a child. he's a child. he's a child)
Peter looks at him from under those bangs and nods.
"It feels like a - like a tugging. Like - I've never felt one before. But there's movies, you know? And books and articles and I was reading everything and I'm not sure, like at all, but it feels like..."
"A bond." Tony nods. He feels a little sick with the force of the moment, out-of-body and incredibly present. "Yeah. I felt that, too."
He can barely bring himself to look in Peter's eyes in that moment. He's afraid of what he'll find there - revulsion, fear. But Peter knocks his knee against Tony's knee. "Okay," the kid says. "That's good. Okay."
"That's good?" Tony repeats, hollowly.
He still can't look at Peter's eyes. He watches the kid's mouth. How it flashes smiles. He has expressive lips. "I was sort of afraid I was the only one who felt it. That I was defective. Or that I'd bonded with someone I'd hate."
"So this isn't the worst-case scenario?" Tony asks. "I'm flattered."
Peter laughs and the sound moves inside Tony's chest like a balm.
"Look," Tony says. "I want you to know that - I understand that I'm old enough to be your father. I don't want - you don't owe me anything. There's ways to get rid of a bond, you know. Weird Eastern hoodoo or something, I don't know, Bruce was talking about it."
"You want to get rid of the bond?"
Now Tony has to look in the kid's eyes. And what he sees there isn't hatred. It's hurt. Tony's mouth works: "Peter, you could do so much better than me."
Peter looks at the floor. He's blinking, hard. "Can't you at least give me a chance?"
His voice so small. Tony goes against all the ground rules he set himself and wraps the kid in a hug. When his palm touches the bare skin of Peter's neck it feels like a firework, and if there was any question about the bond that's gone as they embrace. Every fiber of Tony's being rings true. Yes. Yes. This is what he's always needed.
"You don't want to be saddled with some old guy, Peter. You have - you have such an amazing life in front of you. And I'd love to help you with it. This internship, me wanting you to succeed? That doesn't go away, no matter what you decide to do about the bond. You still have a job. I still want to help you get to wherever you're going. This bond is just - it's extra."
"What if I want to do something with the bond?" Peter asks. "What if I want -"
The doors to the lab opens and Bruce runs in. The moment is broken so suddenly that Tony can only look up, mouth hanging partway open. There's an alarm going off outside the lab. JARVIS reading off statistics, rapid-fire. "Didn't you hear the alarm?" Bruce, disheveled, looking between the two of them.
"It's muted in the lab," Tony says. "Why?"
Bruce points to the ceiling where JARVIS is sounding increasingly distraught. "Blood pressure dropping, respiratory distress, blood loss, coordinates being relayed now -"
"What is he - JARVIS? Who are you talking about?"
JARVIS says: "Captain Rogers."
At the same time, Peter practically moans: "Steve."