Peter: Well, it can just be hard to find a relationship ‘cause…I’m asexual.
Tony: So?
Peter: Well, a lot of people aren’t super cool with that.
Tony: Fuck ‘em.
Peter: *raises an eyebrow*
Tony: Metaphorically, not literally.
Peter: *giggles*
Some ace!Peter starker to celebrate the first ever International Asexuality Day 💜
Peter wasn't oblivious. He knew that Tony had been dropping hints and slowly increasing in flirty behavior lately. Peter was flattered and a little excited. The problem was that he didn't know what to do about it. On the one hand, Tony was handsome, kind, brilliantly smart, and everything that Peter dreamed of when he laid down to sleep each night. On the other hand, Peter had no interest in sex and wasn't even sure that he had ever experienced sexual attraction. Like yeah, he looked at Tony and he enjoyed looking at Tony, but it didn't turn him on or anything. Looking at other people never did. Which Ned assured him was weird.
He'd even worked up the balls to ask May about it once and she had confirmed that yes it is normal to look at people and consider whether or not you might want to sleep with them, just casually and in passing without ever speaking to them. Ew.
Peter had never had sex and he wasn't sure he ever wanted to. And that is exactly the issue. Tony Stark, the notorious playboy, would never be interested in a completely sexless relationship.
Peter tossed and turned some nights considering if he could even have sex. The idea of it grossed him out if he were being honest. He enjoyed kissing. He enjoyed gentle hands cupping the back of his neck or pressed to his chest, but when those hands slid down low Peter always made some excuse and ran. Maybe he was just scared, but he didn't feel scared exactly. It felt more like the nausea you get when you're out at a restaurant and you find someone else's hair in your food. Maybe some people would just pick it out and keep going, but Peter didn't know how to.
Sometimes he thought, maybe. Maybe if he were with someone he trusted enough. Maybe if they took it slow and he didn't have to feel guilty for saying stop. But he also didn't want the pressure of being in a relationship contingent on whether or not he could eventually get there.
So he brushed Tony off.
The flirting ramped up as if Tony thought he was just dense. Then finally he said, "You know Peter I'm starting to think you don't like me."
"Of course I like you. Why wouldn't I like you?" Peter turned his full body toward the computer screen.
Tony came over and put a hand on his shoulder. "I know you're not dumb, but maybe you're a bit hopeless so I'm gonna be straight up, I'm trying to come on to you here."
Peter turned his head and nodded. He could feel his face getting warm. "That's great, actually, Mr. Stark. Very flattering, really."
His hand went away. He nodded as if he had realized something. "So, you just don't find me attractive then."
Peter didn't answer and he could sense when Tony took that to mean yes. Peter finally turned around to see Tony moping as he went back to work.
"No, it's not that," he said. Tony looked his way, a little hope in his eyes. Peter's stomach knotted. "I'm not attracted to anyone."
Tony rolled his eyes. "Sure. Okay, kid."
Peter's mouth twisted. He dug at the floor with the toe of his shoe. "Tony, do you know what being asexual is? 'Cause I... I'm that. I think..."
Tony finally looked at him. Actually looked at him. "Oh. So, what does that mean exactly?"
"I uh... I don't experience sexual attraction. At least I don't think I do. It's weird, because like, how do you know what it feels like if you never felt it so then how would you know that you never felt it, you know?" Peter ducked his head, a blush burning on his cheeks. He wasn't used to talking about this and he always ended up feeling like a freak when he did.
"So, it's not me then?"
"No." Peter shook his head. "I'm just... really weird."
"I don't think you're weird."
Peter shrugged. "It's okay. Anyway, I do honestly appreciate your interest in me, it is really nice, but it's also a little uncomfortable at times so..."
"Right. I'll stop. Cold turkey, I promise."
"Thanks." Surprised with how well that went, Peter turned back around.
"So, you don't have sex?"
Peter wrinkled his nose. "I don't want to. At least I don't think I do."
"Sorry, that was probably another uncomfortable question, huh?"
"It's okay. We're friends right? I don't mind talking to you about this."
"That's good, Peter. I'm really glad."
There was this tension in the air. Peter tried to ignore it. There was enough awkward between them already. Eventually it got to him and he sighed.
"Tony?" Tony hummed in answered. "Was there something else you wanted to say?"
"Well it's just," he put down what he had been fiddling with. "Does that mean you don't date either? Like you wouldn't want a relationship?"
Peter faced the table, chewing his lip. His heart fluttered with hope that burned so bright it threatened to bring him to tears. He swallowed the feeling down.
"No, it doesn't. I mean I- I would like a relationship. A romantic partner, I just don't think I would ever want to have sex and I don't know anyone who would want a relationship like that."
"I'm sure plenty of people would for the right person," Tony said.
Peter took a deep breath. "Not for me, though," he said.
There was a pause in which that tension still hung between. "Peter... will you look at me please?"
Peter turned back around. There was something in Tony's face. Some sort of desperation that Peter couldn't guess at.
"I would."
"You would?"
He nodded. "I mean... I've had enough sex for a life time," he laughed. Then he shook his head. "That's not what I wanted to say... listen." He took a breath. "I love you, Peter. And I would love to have whatever kind of relationship you want. As long as I get to have it with you. I want to make you happy. I want to spend my life making you happy and sharing your company and if you just want to be friends, that's fine. I can learn to be happy with what I have, but I'd love to have more than that if you're willing."
"Even if that means never having sex?"
"Yeah, Peter. As long as it means having you."
Peter felt a little dizzy. Was he dreaming? Tony just kept staring at him, vulnerable and waiting. Peter slipped out of his seat and went to him, throwing his arms around him.
"That sounds great, Tony," he sniffled, tears finally breaking the surface.
"Yeah?"
"I'd love to be your boyfriend," he laughed. He looked up to see Tony's smile, eyes wrinkling at the corners.
"Can we kiss or?"
Peter laughed. He pressed a kiss to man's lips. He was warm and soft and he found so much love in his kiss. Maybe he could have love after all.
"Hey, if I’m programmed as ace, might as well act like it, right?”
"Where was red and blue is now purple and black, the webbing design is now white, along with his eyes, complete with gray surrounding them and covering both the spider emblem and web-shooters."
@baloobird has an AMAZING Wreck-it Ralph au fanfic featuring Ace!Peter, and I just had to draw it!!! Please, check it out!
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the
Organization for Transformative Works
This is a Part Two to my NETFLIX AND CHILL fic, which features Ace!Peter and Wade being ridiculously supportive.
**************************
Valentines Day.
If the idea of Netflix and Chill used to send Peter into a panic attack, Valentines Day was enough to make him seriously consider moving to the Great White North and breaking up with Wade via telegram just to avoid how terribly awkward this whole ordeal was going to be.
And of course it would be terrible and awkward. With Peter being the way he was, and Wade being the way he was...
Well anyway.
And maybe he didn't have to be panicking quite so much. After all, Wade had debunked Peter’s fear about Netflix and Chill by calmly and hilariously stating ‘If I meant Netflix and Fuck that’s what I would’ve said” and Peter loved him for it, really he did.
But Valentines Day-- Valentines Day meant sex. The day expected sex. The fourteenth of February was a pink and red confetti fueled extravaganza dedicated solely to the pursuit of sex, and Peter’s boyfriend was a black and red spandex fueled disaster dedicated to an unhealthy amount of sex related jokes and--
“Pete.” Wade cut into the rapidly spiraling thought pattern and Peter jumped in surprise. “Pete, you’ve been staring at that billboard and lookin’ more and more like you’re gonna throw up for like ten minutes now. What’s wrong with you?”
“Nothing.” Peter forced himself back to the moment, tore his eyes from the gaudy advertisement for a mens nightclub. “Nothing, what’s wrong with you?”
“Uh, nothing’s wrong with me.” Wade blinked down at him in confusion. “You went all space cadet on me why are you--” he glanced up to see what had Peter staring so hard. “What, you want to go to a strip club? We can do that, a spot on Third opens up with an early bird special and they have a great spaghetti buffet. You wouldn't think strip clubs have good food, and spaghetti in bulk probably doesn't sound appetizing but I'm here to tell you--”
“Nope, nope, nope.” Peter clapped a hand over Wade’s mouth. “Nope, I will never want to go to a strip club, especially not one with an early bird special and a spaghetti buffet. That’s definitely not what I was thinking about.”
“Fine then.” Wade kissed Peter’s knuckles before lacing their fingers together. “What were you thinking about that made you make that sort of face?”
“Um---” an awkward pause. “Valentines Day?”
“....and that makes you want to throw up?” Wade finished slowly. “Because that’s definitely you’re ‘I ate the thing I shouldn’t have ate in Wade’s fridge and now I’m going to be sick all night’ face.”
“It’s nothing.” Peter squeezed Wade’s hand determinedly and pushed the sick roiling in his stomach away. “Nothing, I just got distracted. Come on, I thought we were going to get lunch.”
“Well we were until you got all dreamy eyed at--” Wade squinted at the sign. “--the bustiest, friendliest women south of 46th Ave.”
“Oh my god, let’s just go.”
“Hey uh, speaking of Valentines Day--” Peter tensed when Wade cleared his throat. “Other than apparently wanting to throw up, have you thought about what we want to do for Valentines Day? We haven’t been dating all that long yet but I don’t wanna ignore it since you know--”
He waved around at the various signs prompting people to buy flowers or chocolate or lingerie and whatever else made good Valentines Day gifts. “I can’t even pretend I didn’t know it was happening. Same day every year, right?Can't really get out of that one, can I?”
“Well…” Peter ran shaking fingers through his hair and took a deep breath. “Well, we can have dinner. Maybe catch a movie. That could be... that could be fine.”
“That sounds normal and boring and terrible.” Wade replied flatly. “We are neither normal nor boring and despite the rumours, I am not terrible. We're not doing that.”
“Okay, well then you figure out something for us to do!” Peter retorted. “Let’s hear your great idea!”
“Chocolate.” Wade said instantly, decisively. “Maybe ice cream. I’ll wear silky things because I like how they feel and you like how I look. A movie with terrible music and terrible plot but lots of gratuitous nudity.”
He started counting on his fingers. “Alcohol, and not the wimpy shit but something that will get that Spider-booty tipsy and giggly and hilarious. We might have to track down an Asgardian for that. Piles of Italian food because it’s supposed to be amorous and we can Lady and the Tramp the spaghetti. Also--”
“Lady and the Tramp the spaghetti.” Peter repeated, keeping his tone sarcastic so it wouldn’t be quite as obvious how badly he wanted to cry. “Oh my god, why do I even love you?”
“I have a list of reasons at least this tall--” Wade motioned about the same height as his head. “-- of why you love me.”
“And you’re right about all of them.” Peter yanked Wade back and planted a loud kiss on his lips. “I love you.”
“Ah pumpkin-poodle, I know you do.” Wades hands were gentle but possessive as he held Peter close for a moment. “Stop stressing about Valentines Day, Pete. We don’t have to do anything. Hell, I’d love it if we went the day after and bought all the discounted candy and ate until we couldn’t move.”
“Wade--” Peter did tear up a little bit then. “I--I mean I’m trying not to stress out but--”
“But what?”
“But… you know.” He sniffed loudly. “Valentines Day isn’t really a holiday for people like me.”
“People like you.” Wade said blankly. “Spider-people? Because you’re the only Spider-person I know so I can’t agree or disagree with that.”
“I don’t mean Spider-people.” Peter budged closer and muffled his next words in Wade’s chest. “Peoplewhodon’thavesex. It’s not really for people like me.”
“Well that’s just rude, Pete.” Wade held him a little tighter. “And definitely not true at all. I am an awful lot like you, right down to the spandex and penchant for dark corners and last Valentines Day I didn’t have sex and I still wore something scandalous, ate enough chocolate to put myself into a coma and watched romantic comedies all night. Just because I didn’t have sex doesn’t mean that I couldn’t--”
“Wade.” Peter interrupted. “You know what I mean.”
“I know what you mean.” Wade smoothed his thumbs over Peter’s cheeks, touched their foreheads together. “But do you know what I mean?”
“Yeah.” Peter nodded slowly, closing his eyes when Wade kissed him gently. “Yeah, I know what you mean.”
“Alright then.” Another feather light kiss, and Peter shivered over the rough skin sliding along his own. “So chocolate and ice cream and terrible movies with gratuitous nudity? We can skip the silky things, I’ve put on a few pounds anyway and you don’t want to see me jiggling--” He oophed quietly when Peter pinched at his stomach. “Hey! That’s my pudge!”
“It’s your belly button, you ridiculous merc.” Peter put just enough strength into his hug to make Wade wheeze. “That all sounds wonderful. Thursday night?”
Peter’s smile was a little wobbly, but he still nodded. “Valentines Day.”
******************
That night found Peter in front of his computer, rubbing his hands up and down his thighs a little nervously as he stared at row after row of whatever passed for mens Valentines Lingerie.
He knew Wade wouldn’t ask him for sex for Valentines Day. Not after the whole Netflix and Chill discussion, and certainly not after their talk today and really, Peter had never worried once that Wade might pressure for him for anything along those lines at all.
There had been lots of cuddling so far in their relationship and a fair amount of groping. Kisses that left Wade wrecked and nearly drooling and Peter laughing quietly and it had been wonderful between them.
Wonderful.
And now that Wade had made it perfectly clear that he didn’t think sex was necessary for Valentines Day, for the first time in his life-- or at least for the first time since realizing he was asexual-- Peter was actually sort of looking forward to the whole thing. Was thinking he could make it through the day without feeling like a failure of a partner, or just broken all the way around.
He didn’t feel broken when he was with Wade and that was incredible.
So incredible in fact, it was enough to bring him here, looking up what things to wear for a partner on Valentines Day because even though they weren’t going to have sex he could still look nice for Wade, right? That’s a thing real boyfriends did, right?
Real boyfriends. Another wash of anxiety, Peter’s fingers tightening on the keyboard. They were real boyfriends, weren’t they? Even without the sex? Even without him even really liking to get naked because getting naked led to expectations and-- and --
“Fuck.” Peter shoved away from his computer and buried his face in his hands. “What in the fuck am I doing? What am I doing, this is a terrible idea. Lingerie is a terrible idea. Why the fuck would I wear something sexy when nothing sexy will be happening, I’m just leading him on.”
He jumped up from the couch to pace, heading towards the kitchen for a granola bar, taking only two bites and tossing the rest away because he was too nervous to eat.
“Stupid, stupid, stupid.” he muttered, throwing himself into a recliner and rummaging for his phone. “Stupid, stupid--”
“Pete?” Wade answered on the first ring. “Hey baby boy! I was just calling you!”
“You were just calling me.” Peter hoped he didn’t sound as relieved as he felt. “Um, why were you just calling me?”
“Because me and Magoo--”
“Magoo?”
“Murdock.” Wade clarified and Peter smothered a laugh. “Me and Murdock were just arguing over who had the better partner. Obviously I do, but he had a pretty convincing argument for why Ms. Jones might give you a run for your money. Mainly because she has boobs and boobs are sort of hard to beat but--”
“Wade.”
“--but I told him your ass puts her boobs to shame and--”
“Wade, that doesn’t even make any sense.”
“--and he got all upset about it--”
From Matt Murdock in the background-- “It’s not a legitimate argument and it wouldn’t stand up in a court of law!”
“-- and started spouting shit about what or who would stand in court and--”
“Wade!”
“Yes, snickerdoodle?”
“Wade, are you guys drunk?”
A moment of silence, a hushed conversation and then Wade came back on the phone. “We plead the fifth.”
“For fucks sake.” Peter grinned at the sheer ridiculousness of his boyfriend and the lawyer/ vigilante they sometimes ran around with. “Is that your whole conversation? Which of you has the better partner?”
“I already told you, I do.” Wade’s cheesy grin was nearly audible. “What are you doing tonight, sweet cheeks? I know you aren’t saving the world because you wouldn’t dare have fun without me. Also, did I tell you I’m making it illegal for you to wear that suit without me around? Because that spandex does things to me, Webs. All this Valentines Day shit, you know they try to sell you all sorts of lingerie or scanty things but if you just wore your Spidey costume all the time I would be ruined, I swear.”
Murdock, sounding like he was yelling from the other room-- “Gross! I don’t need to know that you guys have a Spandex kink!”
“You’re one to talk!” Wade retorted. “You and Ms. Jones obviously have a weird leather or maybe latex kink so whatever me and my Petey-pie do is completely normal compared to that!”
“I really don’t need to hear about Matt’s kinks, babe.” Peter was laughing too hard to even get the words out. “Please don’t ever talk about this ever again. I’d like to be able to actually look Jessica in the eye when we meet for coffee next week.”
“Ugh fine.” Wade must have gone into the bedroom and shut the door, because everything was suddenly a lot quieter. “What’s on your mind, lemon-smooch?”
“I thought you only threw out ridiculous nicknames when I was upset.” Peter smiled over the squeak of the springs on Wade’s bed as the big merc lay back against his pillows. “What’s with lemon-smooch?”
“Eh, when I’m drunk all bets are off. I hit up Thor for some mead and whoo-boy have you had some of this? I’m hearing colors right now, and I gotta say, white and yellow are bitches.”
“White and yellow are bitches.” Completely derailed from his earlier anxiety, Peter relaxed a little further into the chair. “How’s blue?”
“Surprisingly Eeyore like.” Wade laughed at his own terrible joke. “So what’s on your mind, Pete? I was going to call you with some bullshit, but you only call when you actually need to talk, so what’s up?”
“I just wanted to talk to you.” Peter cleared his throat. “About-- about Valentines Day.”
“I thought we decided on dessert and porn.” Wade protested. “I was very excited about dessert and porn!”
“Okay, no where did we say porn, Wade.” He said in exasperation. “Not ever.”
“Pete, what did you think I meant by a movie with terrible plot and terrible acting but lots of gratuitous nudity?”
“I dunno.” Peter shrugged to himself. “Something on HBO?”
“Oooh.” Wade teased. “Sass-mouth. What would the good folks at HBO say about you ragging on Game of Thrones like that?”
“You don’t know I was talking about Game of Thrones.”
“I know exactly that you were talking about Game of Thrones.” Wade countered good naturedly. “And not to rush you, because I can talk to you just about forever, but is this going to be an all night thing? Because if so, I’m gonna send the blind man home so he stops drinking my liquor. That mead didn’t come cheap and I wanted to save some of it for us.”
“No, this won’t take all night.” Peter promised, glancing over at his computer. “I just um-- I just thought about what you said wearing something silky.”
“Yeah, and then I took it back because no one needs to see this belly in a plunging v neck romper that leaves all but a strategically placed string to the imagination.”
“Oh good Christ.” Peter dragged a hand over his face as Wade died laughing on the other end. “Thanks for that mental image.”
“Anytime, baby boy.” Wade’s voice muffled like he was taking his shirt off. “So. You were thinking about silky things. What about them?”
“Nothing… particular.” Peter hedged. “So you uh-- you like me in my suit?”
“Of course I do, Pete. You know that.”
“Okay then.”
“Okay?” Wade echoed. “That’s it? Just okay? You called me away from a hilariously belligerent drunk lawyer to check on my feelings for your suit?”
“Yeah.” Peter smiled a little. “I guess that’s the only reason I called. I mean that and obviously to hear you and Matt argue about who has the better partner.”
“Oh well, good.” Wade still sounded confused, but he made kissy noises at Peter through the phone. “Love you, sugar snack.”
“I love you too.” Peter said quietly and hung up.
A moment later he was back at his computer, typing in a quick Google search and clicking through the websites that popped up.
He finally settled on one very specific product with a very specific design in very familiar colors and felt around for his debit card to complete the purchase.
Valentines Day was on Thursday, and he had a boyfriend who loved him, who wouldn’t be disappointed by a lack of sex, whose favorite thing to see Peter in was the suit he wore every day they worked together.
Peter bought the silky thing, then opened a new search bar and typed in a few words, scanning through the results with a growing smile and a flutter of anticipation in his stomach.
This was going to be a good Valentines Day.
*****************
If Wade noticed that Peter lingered a little longer over their kisses, or touched him more as they passed in the kitchen, he didn’t say anything about it at all, just let his smile get a little bigger each time.
Going out for Italian had been decided against, while homemade Italian had been enthusiastically agreed upon, and now the kitchen was a mess of noodles, tomatoes, garlic and various other spices and ingredients. Wade was trying his hardest to make a decent pasta sauce, and Peter was attempting meatballs amid all of Wade’s comments about ‘handling balls so well’ and “my god that meat looks huge in your hands.'
It was a recipe for disaster made even worse by mead-spiked red wine being gulped rather than sipped, and compounded by the romantic pop music playing in the background, and every time Wade bent to kiss Peter, Peter stood on his toes to make it happen faster, which of course only led to more kisses and spilled sauce and knocked over spices.
When it was all said and done, the meatballs weren’t quite cooked all the way through and the sauce was burnt, splattering all over the stove and floor and counters. The home made noodles were somehow decently delicious, so Wade ripped the top off of canned sauce and tossed it in the microwave while Peter grabbed bowls and the wine that was really just mead at this point and headed for the living room to wait.
“I hate that this is so much better than most of the Italian places I eat at.” Wade said around a mouthful of pasta and Peter slurped up a long string before adding, “That’s because most of the places you eat at are literally holes in the wall.”
“Hole in the wall restaurants have the best food.” Wade argued back, slopping a hunk of bread through the sauce. “You don’t need franchises and fancy tablecloths to make good eats.”
“I’d settle for a clean kitchen.” Peter said wryly, taking a long drink and cursing when some spilled onto his shirt. “Damn it, I’m a mess. This was a terrible idea.”
“I beg to differ.” Wade reached over and wiped another spot from Peter’s chin. “You are fucking delightful covered in pasta sauce and mead.”
“Yeah, well this shirt is a lost cause, definitely.” Peter put his bowl on the coffee table and stood up, stripping off his shirt and tossing it aside. “I can probably get the stains out of my pants but the shirt isn’t really worth saving.”
“I--” Wade’s eyes glazed over just a little bit as Peter sat back down, his mouth falling open when the muscles in the lean back flexed as Peter reached for his bowl again. “Uh yep. Lost cause. Um, are you sure your pants can be saved? Because--” his eyes went right to the distracting amount of red satin poking out from Peter’s waistband. “Because um--”
“Wade?” Peter tried not to smirk quite so big. “What’s the matter?”
“Nothing.” It obviously took all of Wade’s concentration to look away and go back to eating. “Nothings the matter, Pete. You want some more bread?”
Peter wet his lips nervously and stood back up, kicking out of his pants with a little wiggle that made Wade’s eyes bug out. “Nah, you’re right, the pants are a lost cause too.”
“Okay.” Wade all but bolted from the couch, putting some distance between him and Peter and folding his arms over his chest. “Okay okay okay, Pete. You are one hundred percent allowed to be in my living room wearing--” a helpless little sound. “-- red satin briefs with like… a Spidey-mask on that booty because no matter what it’s doing to me, you can wear whatever you want. But I-- I need a minute, okay?”
“It’s um--It’s alright.” Peter gathered his courage and patted the couch beside him. “Come back and sit with me.”
“I can’t do that.” Wade shook his head adamantly. “Pete, I love you and I never ever want to pressure you in anyway at all so to make sure that doesn’t happen, I’m going to stand over here until I get my dick back under control and then I’ll come sit by you again.”
“God, I love you.” Peter breathed and Wade scrunched his eyes shut. “Please come here. Please?”
“Pete…” Wade sounded like he was begging. “I really really need a minute.”
“Okay, you need a minute.” Peter nodded encouragingly. “That’s fine, god knows you’ve given me more than my fair share of minutes when I needed some time. I just-- when you’re ready will you come here?”
It took a good ten minutes, but Wade finally inched his way around the living room and back to the couch, then made his way across the cushions until he was right next to Peter again.
Peter held his hand out and waited for Wade to take it before saying, “I’m not grossed out by sex, babe.”
“Pete--”
“Hush and listen.” Peter pressed a kiss to Wade’s scarred knuckles. “I’m not grossed out by sex. I love to kiss you and hold you and god I love when you hold me close at night, I love all of that. I’m not weirded out knowing that you want me, I'm not grossed out when we spoon and you get hard against me, and I’ve walked into the apartment a few times and known you were--” a vague motion towards Wade’s lap. “That doesn’t bother me, not at all. You know for me it’s just not… I’m just not interested in sex. But I'm not...not like repulsed by it, okay?”
“I don’t--” Wade took a deep breath. “I didn't--Pete, that doesn't matter to me. I told you I was fine with it and I am. I swear.”
“I was really worried about this Valentines Day.” Peter shuffled closer until their thighs rubbed together and their shoulders bumped. “I was sick to my stomach worried that you would expect something I couldn’t give you, but of course you don’t expect that. And I got all worked up thinking about maybe buying something sexy for you and then I worried that it would just be leading you on and I hated that thought. I really did.”
“Wearing something sexy isn’t leading me on!” Wade objected. “That's not true at all!”
“I know it's not.” Peter interrupted. “Wade, I know. And then you told me that you thought my suit was the sexiest thing ever and I realized that I didn’t have to make myself uncomfortable by wearing something super sexy just to make you happy. Because you like me just looking like... like me.”
“Red satin Spidey-themed briefs are definitely on the list of things I like.” Wade snarked lightly. “Wow. I love these, Pete. Love you in them.”
“I know you do.” Peter sassed back, a grin stretching the corners of his mouth. “And you pretty much reacted how I thought you would- by needing to put some distance between us and trying to be super respectful and I feel like I’ve said this a lot tonight, but I love you for that.”
“So I did a lot-- a lot-- of reading.” He emphasized. “And wanted to try something with you tonight if you’re--if you’re up to it.”
“We’re not having sex.” Wade didn’t mean to be so loud, but Peter still jumped. “You’ve had a lot to drink and it’s late and just because it’s Valentines Day doesn’t mean you have to push through your boundaries to try and--”
“Hush!” Peter clapped his hand over Wade’s mouth. “Wade, stop running your mouth for just a minute and listen to me, alright?”
Wade tried not to groan when Peter’s hand landed rather north of his knee, when warm lips brushed against his ear as Peter whispered something soft and sweet and--
“You want to what?” He jerked away in surprise, and Peter’s cheeks flushed crimson. “You-- are you-- yeah? That would be okay?”
“Yes.” Peter leaned in again, this time to kiss Wade firmly. “Yes.”
****************
“You’re sure?” Wade asked for about the thirtieth time as he lay back on the pillows, inching his jeans down his thighs to his knees and then off. “Because we don't have to. I'm just as happy to snuggle on the couch with you as I am to do this sort of thing.”
“You keep talking and I’m going to think you don’t want to do this at all.” Peter teased, clambering up on the bed and sitting on his knees between Wade’s feet. “We can always put our clothes back on and--”
“Please don’t put your clothes back on!” Wade blurted, and Peter laughed at him, feeling much more confident in this plan now that he could see how excited Wade was.
“God, Pete you’re--” Wade let his gaze drop over Peter’s body, over the defined muscles and long legs, back up to that little smirk that never failed to make his blood pressure sky rocket. It wasn't often that Peter stripped down to nothing but underwear and Wade loved it. “You’re gorgeous, baby boy. Christ, I can't believe you're mine.”
Peter flushed a soft pink at Wade's words, preening under the attention. He might not be interested in sex but he still sort of loved that Wade loved his body. “Do you want me to just stay here so you can look?” Peter sat up straighter, not letting himself feel foolish when he hooked his thumbs in the waistband of the shiny briefs and edged them down the barest bit. “Or do you want me to be closer?”
“Can I--” Wade wet his lips, one hand playing at the band of his own boxers, the other held out cautiously. “Can I touch you? Or hold you or is that--is that too much? Do you need some distance for this?”
“What if I sit behind you?” Peter offered, and Wade’s face lit up, scooting down the bed to make room at the pillows for Peter to climb behind him, then settling back against him with a pleased sigh. “How’s that? Now I can hold you, and you can touch me too.”
“S’good.” The rush of their something new forgotten for just a moment, Wade relaxed into Peter’s chest, feeling the strength in the arms that circled his shoulders, shivering over a kiss on his bare scalp, another on his ear, ghosting down his neck. “Pete, this is good.”
“I like holding you.” Peter admitted quietly, digging his teeth in above Wade’s pulse just enough to make the big merc groan. “You’ve been so good about not pressuring me and asking before you even try to cop a feel and I forget to ask you what you need too.” A beat of silence. “Or what you want. And after reading a few things, I thought maybe this-- maybe this is something you want.”
“You’re okay with it?” Wade asked again and Peter chuckled into his shoulder, hugging him tighter and letting his nails scratch down Wade’s chest. “Pete, I’m serious. Don't feel like you have to do this, because you don't. I just want to--”
“I’m serious too.” A gentle push at Wade’s shoulders so he slid down further between Peter’s legs, his head lolling back onto Peter’s shoulder. “I want to be like this with you, babe. Happy Valentines Day to us, huh?”
“Okay.” Wade took another deep breath and grabbed his lube from the top drawer before he lost his nerve, palming down his quickly hardening cock before shoving his boxers off his thighs to his knees. “Happy Valentines Day to us.”
****************
Wade was a loopy, giggly mess for several minutes after he had finished and Peter kept trying and failing to muffle his laughter in his hands.
“Fuck me, that was so good.” Wade shuddered through a little ripple of pleasure. “Pete, that was amazing.”
“Is that how you compliment yourself every time you do this sort of thing?” Peter asked lazily, feeling the tension flow right out of Wade’s body as he stroked down his sides and over a sharp hipbone. “Because I didn’t do anything you know, it was all you.”
“It was better because you were here.” Wade clarified, throwing an arm up and around to hook over Peter’s neck, turning his head and puckering up for an awkwardly angled but no less heartfelt kiss. “Thank you. I've done this about a million times by myself, but having you here made it so much better.”
“You’re so big.” Peter murmured admiringly, glancing down at Wade’s cock. Sure, sex wasn’t his thing, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t appreciate Wade’s body, the thick length softening against a powerful thigh, the muscles bunching and tensing beneath his palms. “And gorgeous. You could be naked with me more, if you want. Or mostly naked I mean.”
“Mmm, I'd like that.” Wade closed his eyes and breathed out slowly, capturing Peter's hand and pressing it over his heartbeat as it started to slow and even out. “Thank you.”
“Are you sure this was alright?” Peter asked after another moment of content silence. “I know it’s not real sex. You were getting yourself off and I didn’t help or anything, just held you but it was good for me. Was it-- was it okay for you?”
“Pete.” Wade managed to turn himself over, wiping carelessly at his stomach with a discarded t shirt before wrestling Peter down onto the mattress and pinning him with a long kiss. “I told you before that I’m happy to just hold you. I get to hold you and kiss you and call you stupid nick names and somehow you still love me for it. That was enough. But this--” he groaned, kissed Peter again, nibbling at his bottom lip and getting a big hand around to grab at Peter’s ass.
“Pete, this was incredible. I never thought to ask if this sort of thing was alright but I’ve dreamed about--” this time Peter leaned up to kiss him and Wade lingered over it until he could barely see straight. “I’ve dreamed about doing this with you. You being here with me is amazing.”
“It’s enough?”
“You’re more than enough.” Wade promised. “You’re more than enough, baby boy. Always have been.”
******************
The sun was coming up by the Wade and Peter were ready to call it a night. The remnants of their disastrous dinner had to be cleaned up and an entire gallon of ice cream was eaten as dessert, the rest of the mead put away for another time.
Sauce stained clothes were thrown in the wash, Peter stealing Wade’s fluffiest robe to cover up and laughing when Wade gave a long suffering sigh about not being able to see the ridiculous underwear anymore.
Kisses were sweet and lazy, Wade thrilled with this new step in their relationship, Peter content and secure knowing that even before tonight he had been enough for Wade, that they had been enough for Wade.
“I love you.” he whispered as they finally climbed into bed, Wade cuddling him close over his heart. “So much.”
“Aw, I know you do pumpkin-licious.” Wade squealed when Peter pinched him. “Okay fine! Fine! I love you too! I love you too!
Fandom: MCU
Characters: Peter Parker, Tony Stark
Category: Gen
Rating: T
Warnings: mentioned aphobia
Words: 1.2k
there’s some continuity errors between the two because i wrote day 2 first even though it would come after this lol but this kinda ties into my day 2: peer pressure fic
“Hey, Petey-pie.”
Peter shoots Tony a look, nose wrinkling in confusion. “That’s…a new one.”
“Hated it the second it came out of my mouth, so I’ll definitely be using that,” Tony replies, grinning at him as he settles next to Peter, swinging his legs over the side of the building to match Peter.
Peter laughs, leans back on his hands and sees Tony do the same out of the corner of his eye. The sun is setting, slowly, lazily, on the horizon - reds and oranges mix with blues and purples swirling together to look exactly like Peter feels now.
Conflicted.
Most days, the sunset is beautiful and nothing else. Today, the sunset cannot decide what it wants to be any more than Peter can.
Perhaps this makes it even more beautiful. It’s full of contradictions, and yet it continues to just calmly exist.
God, he sounds like a children’s poem.
“So…did you come up to the top of a building in civilian clothes just to watch the sunset, or is there something going on?”
Peter exhales, breath whistling through his teeth. His webshooters dig into the insides of his wrists, and he doesn’t really know what to say. Doesn’t really know what he’s feeling right now, only that it’s a lot and he thinks better when he’s high up. Something about being so far away from the hustle and bustle of New York clears out a lot of the extraneous noise in his head.
(Some of it always remains, because Peter’s brain has never quite grasped the concept of silence.)
He wasn’t planning on talking this out with anyone, not today. He’s not even sure why Tony is here. But Peter does tend to process faster when he gives voice to his thoughts, so maybe talking to Tony will get him home before May starts to worry.
With his eyes trained on the horizon, Peter says, “Some kid in Health class called me damaged because I asked if people were allowed to not want to have sex.”
He doesn’t look at Tony, but he knows Tony is looking at him. Probably trying to figure out if Peter is fucking with him or not.
He wishes he was. He wishes he hadn’t spent the rest of the day turning the word damaged over in his head and wondering if the kid was right.
After a long moment, Tony says, “That kid’s an asshole.”
Huh. He’s never seen Tony this clearly out his comfort zone. If that’s because Tony’s comfort zone is incredibly large or because Tony is incredibly skilled at faking it until he makes it, he has no idea.
“He is,” Peter agrees, and leaves it at that.
He wants Tony to ask. If he’s going to say it, he needs Tony to ask.
Thankfully, Tony has gotten pretty good at knowing what he needs, either consciously or subconsciously. “Do you - were you asking because you don’t want to have sex?”
Obviously, he thinks.
Aloud, he only hums. He’ll tell anyone who will listen that his mouth has a mind of its own.
Tony makes a noise in the back of his throat, doesn’t seem to know if he’s supposed to take this as an affirmation, a denial, or neither. “You - okay, Pete, you’re gonna have to give me more than that. I don’t -”
Just to put him out of his misery (and, hopefully, put Peter out of his own), Peter cuts his eyes to Tony and tells him, “I’m asexual.”
Saying it out loud is...less climactic than he thought it’d be.
Something shifts in his chest. His insides unknot, just a little.
And that’s that.
It’s not like he was expecting fireworks to go off or a choir of angels to start singing as soon as he spoke. It’s not like he was expecting gravity to stop working or the sky to change colors. It’s not like he was expecting some sort of groundbreaking, earth-shattering moment.
But he's still just a little surprised when it’s not groundbreaking. It’s not earth-shattering. It’s just Peter.
“I get the feeling this has nothing to do with plants.”
Peter snorts. “Definitely not.”
Tony’s waiting for an explanation, he knows. He should give one, he knows.
He just...needs a minute.
Tony doesn’t push, watching him carefully as he sits up and pulls his legs up from over the ledge to fold them underneath him. Peter hopes his gratitude shows in his demeanor, but he’ll worry about that later.
He takes a breath. Then another.
“Being asexual means you don’t experience sexual attraction,” he says, measuredly. Detachedly. Like he’s giving a presentation, because it’s easier that way. “It - it doesn’t necessarily mean that you don’t like sex, or don’t want sex - I mean, it does for me, but that’s beside the point -”
“That definitely doesn’t sound like it’s beside the point, Pete,” Tony interrupts.
Peter stops.
Not actually a presentation. Right. This is - this is him coming out.
He’s coming out. Not for the first time, technically, but for a first time. He’s come out as bi enough times that the gravity of the whole coming out experience is dimmed, but it’s still different this time.
“I know,” Peter says. “It’s not, I know.”
Tony follows suit in pulling his legs up from the ledge, turns to fully face Peter. His eyes are soft. Fond. “Kid, is this the first time you’ve come out as - what was it, asexual?”
He nods.
The corners of Tony’s mouth quirk up in a warm smile. “Well, I’m honored, Underoos.”
He’s not being weird about it. Not that Peter expected him to be, per se, but…he is Tony Stark, playboy extraordinaire, so maybe Peter didn’t expect him to understand so easily. So many people can’t even comprehend how anyone could not like sex - a fact that Peter doesn’t really get because sex just seems gross and sticky and uncomfortable to him, but apparently he’s the exception, not the rule - so yeah, maybe he thought Tony would take longer to process. Sue him.
Peter’s about to speak when Tony says, “You know that kid was wrong, right?”
“What?”
“Whoever it was that said you were damaged - I can get him expelled if you want, just throwing that out - he was wrong.”
“Oh, that.” Peter rolls his eyes, and it almost doesn’t feel forced. “Yeah, I know. He’s an idiot. And no, you don’t need to get him expelled.”
Tony knocks his knee against Peter’s, smile widening. “Just remember that I could, though. Him and anyone else who says anything bad about you.”
“You can’t just -”
“I’m Tony Stark, of course I can.”
“Technically, yes. Ethically, no.”
“Eh, who needs ethics, anyway?”
“Mr. Stark.”
“I mean, in this day and age, no one gives a fuck about ethics.”
“Mr. Stark.”
They both start laughing at the same time, happy and open and light. The weight on Peter’s shoulders hasn’t exactly lifted, but it’s not quite as heavy anymore.
“Hey, kid.”
“Hm?”
“Teach me more about this whole ‘asexual’ thing later on, will you? If this is a part of you, I wanna know all about it.”
He’s not going to cry. He’s not.
If his eyes are wet when he looks at Tony and says, “Yeah. Yeah, I will,” then that’s nobody’s business but his own.
MJ: What are the healthiest teas?
Peter: Honesty, integrity, loyalty.
MJ: …
MJ: Can you ever give me a straight answer?
Ned: That would require him to be straight.
