i read a fic a while ago about interwebs with ace!peter and tony being supportive. i don’t remember much but i remember that one time tony went to pick them up from school and found out someone wrote “no wonder Peters asexual, who’d want to f*ck ned’s fat ass” on the bathroom wall
Iron Man's Destiny by @baloobird
Tony has never seen his boys in a more depressed mood.
Since he picked them up from school, Peter and Ned have barely said a word to him.
Did they get in a fight? Tony looks at them in his rearview mirror to be sure.
It doesn’t look like it, he thinks. The young couple is staring out the window with Peter in the middle seat and he has his head on Ned’s shoulder, rubbing his boyfriend’s arm in comfort.
the latest installment (third one i’ve written but technically second in sequential order) of my ace!peter series (can be read as a standalone)
read it on ao3
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The first time Peter came out to Ned, he was fourteen and, so it had seemed, hopelessly in love.
I’m bisexual, he’d said, and Ned had looked away from whichever Star Wars movie they’d been watching to stare at him.
I’m bisexual, he’d said, and Ned had smiled and high-fived him and thanked Peter for trusting him enough to tell him.
I’m bisexual, he’d said, and Ned had accepted it with no second thought. No questions asked, other than whether he was out to anyone else or not (to which the answer was a hard no). Simple as that.
The second time Peter comes out to Ned, he is sixteen and not so hopelessly in love.
It’s not simple anymore.
There’s more pieces at play this time. Things are more...delicate, now, because it doesn’t just affect Peter. As soon as he says what he needs to say out loud, everything will change. Their relationship will change, the way Ned looks at him will change, the expectations for their future will change.
Maybe he’s being dramatic, but this could be the thing that ruins them.
He’s definitely being dramatic. Ned would never break up with him because of this, they’re too good together.
Right?
Right. He has to be right.
He’s been trying to find the right time to tell Ned for weeks. It’s four months into their relationship, four weeks since he came out to himself, three weeks since he came out to Tony, and all the while, the anxiety’s been eating at him. He’s stressed. He’s so incredibly stressed, and he’s pretty sure Ned can tell.
“Babe, I can hear you thinking.”
He’s one hundred percent sure Ned can tell.
“Sorry,” Peter says quickly, clumsily spinning his pencil between his fingers. He’s supposed to be doing his homework, but his focus is elsewhere. “I just...have a lot on my mind.”
“Spider-Man stuff?” Ned asks, eyes sparkling with excitement even now, so many months after the accidental reveal.
He could say yes. He could just say yes and make up some story about a robbery or a mugging or, better yet, an Avengers mission - because he goes on those now - and that would be that. The conversation would be over, and Peter could go back to pretending to do his homework and stressing.
“No,” he says, because he has to. Because if he doesn’t do this now, it’ll be another four weeks before he finds the courage to even think about telling Ned again. He can’t handle another four weeks of being this scared.
He’s gotten used to being scared over the years, but this is a different type of fear. It’s different than his secret identity fear. It’s different than his patrolling fear. It’s different, even, than all the other variations of his coming out fear, of which he’s discovered many.
(It’s most similar, he thinks, to his fear of not being good enough. That one’s been here for as long as he can remember and no matter what he does, he can’t seem to get rid if it.)
Ned didn’t look at him any different the first time, but Peter knows that he will this time.
He could just not tell him. He could just pretend for the rest of his life, and let Ned continue to believe his boyfriend is perfectly normal.
Tony says he is perfectly normal. Says Peter’s not allowed to think he’s not.
Peter’s usually pretty good at following rules, but he’s still working on that one. He knows - rationally, logically, he knows - but sometimes the word damaged still rings in his ears and he forgets.
“Peter?”
Ned is looking at him weird. He’s been quiet too long, missed whatever his boyfriend was saying.
He puts his pencil down. “Huh?”
“Are you okay?” Ned asks, and his concern is practically etched into his forehead.
Great. His stress is stressing Ned out.
Really, Peter should have expected him to know something was off. The two of them have always been so in tune with each other, since long before they kissed in Ned’s bedroom over a half-built set of Legos, that they have practically a sixth sense.
Ned knows him too well. No matter how good of a show he puts on, he always sees through it. Every time, without fail.
(Although, truth be told, he’s not a very good liar anyway.)
“I, uh -” Peter rubs circles into the inside of his left wrist with his thumb. His head hurts, the gentle pulse of anxiety thrumming behind his eyes. And he has to do this now, he has to rip the bandaid off, or else the pulse will never fade. “Ned, I -”
“Are you breaking up with me?” Ned interrupts, and he’s joking, sort of, mostly, but there’s a glint of real worry under the teasing.
Okay, what?
“What?” Backwards. That’s so backwards. Ned’s worried about Peter breaking up with him, while Peter’s been expecting the reverse for weeks. “No - no, of course not!”
He’s too far away. They’re too far away from each other to have this conversation, with Peter at his desk and Ned sitting cross-legged on the bed, and he’s itching to hold his boyfriend’s hand. He slides off his chair and moves to join Ned on the bed, scooting forward so tat their knees touch.
Peter reaches out to take Ned’s hands in his - Ned doesn’t protest, but his nerves do show in the way his shoulders shift - and sits up just the tiniest bit straighter.
“Okay. Okay, we’re - we’re doing this,” Peter says, mostly to himself. Ned’s fingers tighten around his, and he’s fairly sure it’s involuntary. “Ned. My angel. There’s...something I need to tell you.”
Ned’s eyes still have that oh god, he’s breaking up with me look. It’s an awful look.
This is...not exactly how he thought this was going to go.
Firmly, earnestly, he says, “I am not breaking up with you. I’d never, okay? But - but you might want to break up with me after this.”
“I - why would -”
Peter kisses him, gently. Lingeringly. When he pulls back, Ned is quiet, his eyes still half-closed and the worry lines in his forehead blissfully smooth.
He wonders if he made it worse for himself by putting it off. Wonders if it would’ve been easier had he just bit the bullet and told him four weeks ago, as soon as he’d realized. Wonders if Ned should’ve been the first person he told, whether he was ready or not.
Wonders if, maybe, he owed it to Ned to tell him first and fucked that up just as surely as he’s going to fuck up their relationship.
No. No, that’s not right.
He wasn’t ready then, and nothing would’ve made this conversation harder than starting it prematurely.
He wasn’t ready then, but he’s ready now.
Peter takes a deep breath -
(In. Out.
Everything’s going to be fine.
He can do this.)
- and, all in one go, says, “I’m asexual. And maybe you know what that means, but maybe you don’t, so in case you don’t...it means I don’t experience sexual attraction and I don’t really...get the whole concept of finding people sexy and I - I don’t want to have sex, with - with you or anyone.
“I know it changes things, so I understand if this means you want to break up. I - I’m sorry I didn’t tell you when we first started dating, but I only just realized recently and -”
“Peter, baby, breathe.”
Peter sucks in a breath so harsh it burns as Ned rubs his thumbs, lightly, across his knuckles - a way of calming him down that Ned’s been using since long before they got together.
He’s smiling. Ned’s smiling this soft, fond little smile, and there’s so much affection in his eyes, so much adoration, that Peter can’t believe he ever thought Ned would dump him over this.
“Hi,” Ned says softly, once Peter’s breathing steadily again, releasing one of his hands to carefully tuck a stray lock of hair behind Peter’s ear before giving his hand back. “Pete - alright, first of all, thank you. Thank you for telling me, thank you for trusting me with this, just - thank you.”
Peter’s not tearing up. He’s not.
He didn’t cry last time, with Tony - not really, at least - and he’s not going to cry this time. He’s not going to cry because it’s not sad, and at this point, he doesn’t have tears to spare on things that aren’t sad.
He nods jerkily. Ned squeezes his fingers and continues, “So, just to make sure I’ve got this right - you don’t wanna have sex, like, ever?”
Another shaky nod.
“Like, ever,” he confirms.
“Okay,” Ned says, and there’s nothing in his voice that even implies that it’s not. “Okay, then we won’t have sex.”
It’s so matter-of-fact, like another answer never even crossed his mind. Like another answer doesn’t even exist in his book.
Don’t cry. Don’t cry. Don’t cry.
“Ned, I - I can’t ask you to -”
“You’re not asking.” Ned’s tone leaves no room for argument. “I’m telling you, Peter - if you don’t want to, then we won’t. Simple as that.”
Simple.
Peter opens his mouth, but nothing comes out except this odd stuttery noise that he thinks is the beginning of...something. Something that doesn’t seem to have an end. Or a middle, for that matter.
The way Ned’s looking at him now is the same way Ned looked at him twenty minutes ago. The same way Ned looked at him four months ago. The same way Ned looked at him two years ago.
He might cry. He’s trying really hard not to, but he’s teetering.
“I don’t ever want to do anything that makes you uncomfortable.” Ned lets go of him entirely this time to link his hands across the back of Peter’s neck. His fingers tangle in the hair at the base of his head. “I love you, Peter, and in terms of importance, that beats out literally everything else. I’m with you for you, baby, not for sex. Or, just to cover all our bases here, for Spider-Man. Or for anything else you can think of that’s not my best friend and boyfriend, Peter Benjamin Parker.”
Best friend and boyfriend. Ned always puts best friend first, always says that the best thing about them is the fact that they were best friends first. That they’d loved each other in a million ways already, so when they fell in love, that number just became a million and one.
The bed creaks as Peter tilts forward to press his face into Ned’s shoulder. He lets his eyes flutter shut and twists his fingers into the front of his boyfriend’s t-shirt. Wetly, muffled in his sleeve, he says, “I love you too, Ned.”
He promised he wouldn’t cry, but the wet spot forming on Ned’s shirt is telling him he broke that promise.
“So this means you’re...it’s ‘biromantic’, right? Instead of ‘bisexual’?”
The question itself isn’t funny, but Peter still huffs a choked laugh, because of course that’s what he asks. Not the things he was actually scared Ned would ask (How would you know if you’ve never tried it? Can’t you just fake it?), just...just whether he’s got the terminology right or not.
“Yeah, that’s right,” Peter says, and god, he loves this boy. He loves him more than he ever thought he could love someone, more than he ever thought he had the capacity to love someone.
Ned’s fingers run up and down Peter’s spine, tingling all the way down to his toes. He gives a contented sigh. “Sweet. Got it.”
There’s something else he wants to ask, he can hear it in the hitch of his boyfriend’s voice.
He’s fully prepared to wait, but it’s not long before Ned says, “Hey, I - I have to ask...I know it’s different for everyone, I know that sometimes it’s not just sex, it’s other types of - of intimacy -”
Not quite what he might’ve expected, but the question isn't surprising, not at all. Now that it’s been asked, Peter knows he would’ve wondered the exact same thing if the tables were turned.
Pulling back, Peter sits up straight and places his hands on Ned’s knees, making him stop mid-sentence. Waits just a second for his boyfriend’s eyes to meet his, then, in as firm a voice as he can muster, tells him, “Anything that we’ve already done is okay, Ned. Better than okay. Nothing you’ve ever done, nothing we’ve ever done, has made me uncomfortable, alright? Never.”
Ned exhales, and his relief is palpable. “Good. Okay, good, I’m glad.”
Peter kisses the tip of his nose. Ned laughs, face scrunching up automatically, and playfully shoves Peter’s shoulder before his expression sobers quickly. “But Peter?”
“Yeah?”
“This means you have to tell me when something does make you uncomfortable. I don’t want you forcing yourself to do things you don’t want to do because you think...you think you owe me or something.”
Peter starts to speak, but Ned shushes him and his mouth snaps shut.
“Babe, I need you to promise that you’ll talk to me.” Ned takes his hands again - this time with palms facing Peter, fingers laced together, and elbows resting on his knees so their hands sit in the space between their chests. “Whatever it is, however disappointed you think I’ll be, I want you to promise me that you’ll tell me if I do something you don’t like. Promise me that you’ll tell me if I suggest something you know you won’t like. I can’t read your mind, Peter, as cool as having telepathy would be, which means you have to tell me when you don’t like something so I know what not to do.”
“Ned -”
“Promise me.”
“Okay!” Peter leans forward to rest his forehead against Ned’s, then lowers his voice to say again, “Okay, angel. I promise.”
They meet in the middle in a soft kiss, lips slotting together perfectly, like they were always meant to.
“And if you want to have a real talk about boundaries,” Peter whispers when they break, hovering just inches apart, “we can have that. Another time, though, if that’s okay.”
He feels him smile more than he sees it. “Of course it’s okay. Whatever you need, Petey.”
“You’re amazing,” Peter says, pressing another kiss to Ned’s lips, “and I love you.”
Ned squeezes his hands one last time. “I love you too. Until the sun swallows the earth.”
Peter grins against his mouth. “Until the sun swallows the earth.”
And somehow, despite all the complications and obstacles and hurdles, despite everything, that’s all that matters.
Can you find a fic for me please? In it Peter has fangs and hasn’t treated them in a while so there’s a build up of venom and it’s superfamily with Steve and Tony, i forgot the name sorry!!
Tooth problems and MJ problems by alltheSinnersandalltheSaints
Peter’s fangs are acting up and he’s been getting awful headaches. But what’s worse, is that he’s got a massive crush on MJ and has no idea what to do.
Fandom: MCU
Characters: Peter Parker, Tony Stark
Category: Gen
Relationships: Peter Parker/Ned Leeds (mentioned)
Rating: T
Warnings: discussions of sex
Words 2k
read on ao3
first | previous | next (febuwhump series)
first | previous | next (ace!peter series)
this is a direct sequel to this fic
this is really loosely interpreted lmAO but also loosely based off my own struggles with my sexuality so. take it i guess
“What was your first time like?”
Tony looks over at the kid, hands stilling and eyebrows automatically creeping up his forehead. This is…not what he expected, to say the least. Peter’s been quiet all evening, disconcertingly so - it was clear from the moment he stepped into the building that something was off, but Tony couldn’t quite figure out what is was.
He still has no idea where the hell this is going.
Eh. One way to find out.
“My...first time,” Tony repeats, slowly. Just to be sure he heard it right.
Peter won’t look at him, eyes trained on the table in front of him. His voice is small when he says, “Yeah. Like - like the first time you -”
“No, I know, kid.” Tony squints at him, as if that will make this any clearer. He wants to ask - why on Earth do you want to know? - but he gets the feeling that the question wouldn’t be appreciated right now. “I, uh - my first time was…short. Awkward. It kind of sucked, to be honest.”
The kid nods slightly, absently chewing on the fingernail of his left thumb. There’s something...sad, in his demeanor, in his posture, in the way he holds himself, and Tony wants nothing more than to put an end to whatever or whoever put it there.
It’s quiet for a moment. Tony can practically feel Peter thinking, and he turns back to his work, giving Peter space to work out whatever it is he needs to work out.
Eventually, gaze still downcast, muffled around the finger in his mouth, Peter says, “So did it…it got better, right? After the - the first time, I mean, it got better?”
Something is so wrong here.
This is such a loaded question, it’s clear in Peter’s tone. Though loaded with what, he doesn’t know. There’s layers to this whole conversation, really, like there’s something he’s supposed to say but no one bothered to tell him what it is. This wasn’t exactly in the Mentoring a Teenage Spiderling handbook.
(He wonders if this was in the Parenting a Teenage Spiderling handbook, and then he reminds himself that neither of those actually exist.)
This feels like a test of some sorts. Like this, rather than anything Spider-Man related, is the big test of whether or not he’s actually good at this whole mentor thing.
Okay.
Alright, Tones, you can do this. It’s just a kid. It’s just Peter.
Except there is no “just Peter”. Don’t fuck this kid up, Tony.
Is it really going to fuck up the kid if I mess up this one conversation?
Seems like it might.
…Shit. It kind of does.
“Yeah,” Tony replies, jaw tight with something like nerves. Peter stiffens, almost imperceptibly, and Tony feels like his words are already wrong. Turns out, his words are wrong a lot of the time, so he’s not surprised. But now he’s stuck in his answer. “Yeah, I mean, it - yes, it took a while to figure things out. To figure out what worked and what didn’t and all that.”
It’s the truth. What else is he supposed to say?
Peter doesn’t say anything, one foot kicking back and forth against the floor. He looks so small, so young, sitting at his work station (the one Tony set up specifically for him, because he’s like that, he’s always been like that).
Tony forgets, sometimes, that Peter’s just a kid. That the actual superhero sitting in his lab is just sixteen years old. A high school junior. A child.
An impressionable kid who’s currently asking him, Tony fucking Stark, playboy extraordinaire, about sex.
Well, it’s not like he has many other people to go to, Tony supposes. The list of trusted adults in Peter’s life is a rousing two, and maybe he just thought it’d be less awkward with him than with his aunt. Or maybe he just knows that Tony has more...experience in this department.
The kid is still silent. Which is not only concerning, but also sort of disturbing.
Peter doesn’t do quiet. Peter always talks, always has something or other to say, always aims to fill the silence even when he seems like he hates the sheer act of taking up space.
The roles are reversed now, it seems. Tony doesn’t like it.
“Pete -”
Hearing his name jolts Peter out of whatever stupor he’s in and he interrupts, finger dropping from his mouth, as if Tony hadn’t even spoken. “So you made it better. You - you found the things that f-felt good and you worked with those, yeah?”
“I...I guess,” Tony says, and his voice sounds strange even to his own ears. Peter hasn’t stuttered around him in ages. The hero worship hasn’t quite worn off, exactly, but the stuttering hasn’t been an issue in forever. “But listen, kid -”
“So you didn’t just...automatically like it. It wasn’t s-something that just - just clicked?” Peter barrels on, head finally jerking up to look at Tony. There’s desperation in his eyes. A sharp, hysterical type of desperation that Tony hates, hates more than anything else he’s ever seen on Peter’s face. He’s seen fear, he’s seen pain, and he’s seen anger in Peter, more times than he’d like to say, but none of that compares to the distress he sees now. “Everyone always says that it just clicks, that - that - that you’re just supposed to know what to do and how to do it and what feels good and what you want and -”
“Peter.”
“What?” The kid is practically panting, what with all his words coming out in one breath. And it’s hard to tell from across the lab, but he thinks Peter is shaking.
“Look, Underoos, if you - if you have questions, I’m more than willing to give you the answers. If you want to know what’s what, I’m here for you, okay? But Pete, you came out to me like two months ago.” Tony scrubs a hand across his face, left wrist twinging in that way that it does, every so often. “I mean, if you’re telling me now that you’re actually not asexual, if you’re not sex...averse, was it? Then okay. That’s okay, Pete, if your label has changed, that’s fine, buddy. But if that’s it, then you have to tell me, because right now, you’re kind of scaring me.”
For a second, Peter just stares at him. Then he shakes his head, slowly, like he wishes he didn’t have to. “It’s - it’s not. I’m…still asexual.”
“Okay. Okay.” Tony stands and walks over to Peter, kneeling next to the stool he’s sat on. Because he was right. Something is so wrong. “Then why are you asking about sex as if you’re thinking about having it, Pete?”
Peter looks down again, staring at his hands. Tony has to lean down and tilt his head a little to see Peter’s face, and he watches in vague horror as the kid’s eyes fill with tears. “I just…if everyone else has to work at it for them to like sex, why - why can’t I?”
Shit. Shit.
That’s what this is.
He’d thought, when Peter came out to him two months ago, that he was comfortable in it. Relatively so, at least. That he done all the soul-searching, that he had accepted himself, that he didn’t need any help with all of it. And he was wrong, clearly.
Fuck.
He’s been trying so damn hard not to be like his father. And yet, here he is, with no idea what the hell his kid needs.
His kid.
Peter’s not his kid. Not biologically, at least.
But who is he kidding? In some way, somehow, whatever that way may be, Peter’s his kid. And his kid needs him to say the right thing here.
“Peter…Peter, look at me.” When he doesn’t, Tony lifts his head up with two gentle fingers. Peter’s eyes dart around for a moment before settling on Tony’s nose. Not quite what he was going for, but he’ll take it. “Peter, the reason my first time sucked was because I was fifteen, stupid, and immature. I didn’t know what I was doing and neither did the girl I was with. God, we were in a car, Peter. I had sex for the first time in the back of a car, at fifteen years old, and it sucked.
“But it still felt good, Peter. Emotionally, at least. Because I wanted it. Because my partner wanted it. Even if it was reckless and dumb and I wish, in retrospect, that I’d waited, we still both wanted it. Sex is never going to feel good if you don’t want it to begin with.”
“But - but -”
Tony pushes a few wayward strands of hair off of Peter’s forehead. “Peter, what’s going on?”
Tears run down Peter’s cheeks, and he makes no move to wipe them away. He just sits there, hands trembling on the table in front of him, and cries.
And then he’s sobbing, full-on sobbing, and saying, “T-there’s just so much pressure, Mr. Stark. I - everyone is h-having sex and then everyone is talking about it. Everything’s about sex and I - I know that sex isn’t everything, but god, it’s hard to believe that when virgin is the latest insult that p-people toss around at school. I - I just, I feel like I’m m-missing something, like I’m - I’m -”
“Like you’re what, Peter?”
“Like I’m broken,” Peter chokes out, and Tony actually feels his heart break.
Fuck, he doesn’t know how to deal with this. The first time he’d even heard the word asexual outside of high school biology class was from Peter. He’s never had to deal with peer pressure, or general societal pressure, when it comes to sex, because he’s never not wanted to have sex.
What do you say to a kid who doesn’t want the one thing everyone else seems to be obsessed with?
Tony rests a hand on Peter’s knee, takes a breath, and gives it his best damn shot. “Kid, you - you’re not broken, okay? Not wanting sex doesn’t make you broken. Does it make you different? Sure, in a way. But so does being Spider-Man. So does being a sixteen-year-old who can lift a car. Is that a bad thing?”
Peter sniffles. “No.”
“And neither is being asexual. Just because something makes you different does not mean it makes you broken. Not everyone wants sex. Not every couple has sex. I - I know it feels like the whole damn world revolves around sex, but that doesn’t mean your world has to. That doesn’t mean that you’re wrong for not wanting it.”
“But - but what if...someone I’m dating wants -”
“Ned’s not pressuring you, is he?”
Peter blinks in surprise at him. “What? No. Jesus, no, of course not. He - he’d never. Just - I mean, we’re sixteen, I know there’s - there’s no guarantee that I’ll be with Ned forever. What if someone else, somewhere down the line, wants...something that I can’t give them?”
Tony sighs. “I don’t - Pete, look, I don’t have all the answers. I can’t tell you what will happen somewhere down the line or - or how to handle some hypothetical future relationship. But what I will say is just…don’t hurt yourself to help someone else. Don’t - don’t force yourself to do something you don’t want to do to please another person, whether they’re your boyfriend or girlfriend or husband or wife or whatever. You take care of yourself first, alright?”
A pause, then Peter nods. “I - okay. I will.”
“Good. And kid, I know I can’t just fix all of this with one little pep talk. I know that…accepting yourself, your sexuality, it takes a lot more than someone telling you that it’s okay. But it is. It is okay - it’s more than okay, it’s perfect. Because it’s you. And you are perfect just the way you are, Peter.”
Finally, finally, a smile. A watery, shaky smile, but a smile nonetheless.
Take that, Howard.
“It might -” Peter swipes a hand across his cheeks, sniffs, starts again. “It might take a while for me to…to believe that. To really, actually believe it. But it’s really nice to hear, Mr. Stark.”
“I’ll say it as many times as you need me to, kiddo.”
“I know. Thank you...Tony,” Peter says, and the smile widens.
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.
Asexual!Peter by parkrstark series of ficlets about asexual!Peter
Pride by funnygirlthatbelle13It took Peter a long time to figure out who he was. And he’s proud to be asexual biromantic. But that doesn’t mean it’s any easier to come out. Especially when you’re coming out to your hero.
Peter’s Secret - No, Not that One by hemingwaysgirlPeter Parker has a secret - all it takes to turn him into a terrified heap of nerves is the simple thought of dating anyone. Why can’t he do normal teenage things without freaking out? His anxiety has turned out to be yet another flaw that separates him from his normal peers, and he hates it. (read tags!!)
Chocolate Cake by SailorChibiPeter has a problem that he doesn’t have a name for. Dad Tony to the rescue.
Do you have fics where Peter is the ace one and not Stiles?
Well, if you’re looking for only Peter being ace there’s:
Services Rendered by UnstableIntention (BeneficialAddiction) [WIP, 11/?, 30k]
Peter's ace and Stiles is disillusioned, but neither can afford to move through the world that way, so for now a little cash and a little non-disclosure will have to do.
and this steter drabble
if you want them both ace there’s:
the Domestic Bliss series by @moonstalker24
Please Hold While I Connect You by moonstalker24
Ace!fic. Romance that starts over a sex hotline shouldn't work should it? Wrong! Because Stiles and Peter have never conformed to anything. Also Erica is a meddling troll, but it gets them together so they forgive her.
Full of Grace by WritersAreLiars[WIP, 1/5]
After five years of being in a committed relationship, Stiles wants to try something a little different with Peter.
No one ever told her that couples' masturbation would be this difficult.
How Renting Led to Dating by Akira_of_the_Twilight [stetopher]
Chris had been eating his lunch as he went over the finance books to make sure they were balanced for the month and that he’d be able pay his personal bills when realization dawned on him.
He was dating Stiles Stilinski and Peter Hale.
Chris stopped scrawling in his books and gaped as his brain turned over this realization.
He had been dating Stiles Stilinski and Peter Hale for months now and he hadn’t noticed.
Gasoline by SmartKIN [WIP, 3/?, 10k]
It’s been a long time since Peter’s had any control over his life, and he craves it every second of every day. Stiles, on the other hand, has been forced to be in control far too early in his life, taking care not only of himself but also his dad whenever it was needed (and sometimes when it wasn’t).
When Peter realizes that it would do Stiles a world of good if he let somebody else take care of him for a change, he may have found a way to make both of their lives more bearable.
Summary: Peter's teammates try to figure out his and Wade's relationship.
Peter and Wade’s relationship was an absolute mystery to the rest of Peter’s team.
They couldn’t begin to fathom how it even happened. One day, the two were as distant as they’d always been, and then suddenly Deadpool was hanging around and going on dates with the youngest member of the team. One second he wasn’t there, the next he was everywhere. And Peter seemed completely comfortable with it.
No one knew how the teenager had managed to keep his relationship under wraps; Peter was a notoriously bad liar, no matter what subject it came to. Plus, it was a fact that Logan could smell sex on any of his teammates from a mile away, making secret relationships or hookups impossible. And apparently Tony was the first one to find out about the couple, the biggest gossip in the Tower, and he had already given it his seal of approval.
“They’re kind of cute,” Tony shrugged when Logan and Luke had demanded why the hell the billionaire hadn’t told them about it. “It wasn’t your business, anyway. Petey’s allowed to date who he wants.”
He went to go get a drink, leaving his teammates flabbergasted. Really? Wasn’t it Tony who had given Peter’s last girlfriend a complete background check, and even gone as far as interviewing her before deeming her average and not good enough for his protege, nagging Peter to break up with her? The hypocrisy was not lost on them.
“I just...I don’t get it,” Jessica said for the millionth time.
She was leaning against the wall, next to where Logan and Luke were lifting weights. The superhero was watching Natasha spar with Peter, knocking him down every other time he stood up.
“Whatever it is, I don’t like it,” Logan growled, putting down the weights harder than necessary. “Wherever Wilson is, bad things follow.”
"But how does it work?" she stressed. "Like, how can Peter kiss that face? And do other things..."
"Jess, I really don't need to be hearing about his sex life," Luke cut her off, cringing. "Leave it be."
"I can't," she moaned, slumping her shoulders. "I gotta know everything about it. Seriously. And what is he using to stop smelling like sex? 'Cause I could use a bottle or ten of that."
"Jessica, please."
"I'm gonna go ask him," she said, eyes sparking, pushing herself off the wall.
“No, no you’re not,” Logan intercepted her, setting down the weights and grabbing her arm. She raised an eyebrow at him. “‘S obviously somethin’ he doesn’t want to talk about. You pushin’ him isn’t going to help.”
She shrugged out of his grip. “Oh, relax. A couple of questions aren’t going to hurt.” Ignoring Logan’s warning expression, she approached the sparring area.
Natasha had deemed Peter beaten up enough to stop using him as her personal punching bag. She told him briskly that he did well, clapping him on a sore shoulder before heading to the showers. Peter was crouched next to his backpack, rummaging around and pulling out a water bottle. He glanced up at Jessica as she stood over him.
“Hi, Jessica,” he greeted her, still breathless from the workout.
“Hey,” the superhero said, wearing a lopsided grin. “What’s up?”
“Ah, just packing up,” he said, gesturing to his bag before standing up and slipping on a jacket. He watched her with growing wariness, sensing that she was up to something; her grin said that there were some other motivations in their conversation than friendliness.
“Got a date tonight with scarface?” she teased. Peter winced at the nickname, but nodded nonetheless, slinging in bag over his shoulder.
“Yeah, with Wade. We were going to watch a movie at his place.”
She waggled her eyebrows suggestively. “Just watch a movie?” she said suggestively. “No...funny business? No fooling around?” She was rewarded with a bright blush. “Oh ho. So you are going to do something.”
“No, we’re really not,” Peter said, shifting uncomfortably.
“Lies,” she said, following him into the nearby kitchenette. “All lies. And you still haven’t given me any of the deets on that stuff yet.”
Peter sighed heavily. “Because there’s nothing to tell,” he said, shyly keeping his voice low. He was keenly aware of the fact that there were other people in the gym, and one of them had superhuman hearing.
She frowned. “You guys really haven’t done the deed yet? Why, does he not think you’re good enough?”
Peter swallowed. “It’s because I don’t want to,” he clarified, throwing the empty water bottle into the kitchenette’s trashcan.
Realization dawned on her. “The scars?” she asked sympathetically. She had dropped her voice low to match his, even though she knew everyone in the room had an ear open to the conversation.
“No. I just don’t like sex,” he explained, shifting uncomfortably, “ah, in general.” The look of confusion on her face sat like a rock in his stomach.
“You’re a teenager,” she laughed decisively, waving away his words. “You’re just lying so we won’t tease you.”
“No, really,” he protested. “I don’t care about it.”
“Oh, please, Peter. I went through puberty, too. I know what it’s like.”
“Jessica,” Steve warned. Jessica and Peter looked up to see him next to them, not having noticed him coming up. “Just drop it.”
“Why should I?” she grinned playfully, nudging Peter with her shoulder. “Aw, c’mon, man, I was messin’ with you. I didn’t mean to get you all wound up.” Peter grunted in acknowledgement, and that quickly clued Jessica in that her teasing had been taken personally by the teenager. “Peter--”
“I gotta go,” Peter said, glancing at the clock on his phone. “I’ll see you guys later.”
“Wait,” she stopped him, grabbing his arm. She bit her lip. “Do you want me to drive you? I mean, Wilson’s apartment is far away, right? And it’s kind of cold...”
“I can walk. It’s fine.”
He awkwardly waved goodbye and hurriedly walked to the elevator, avoiding the eye contact of the others in the room. JARVIS was kind enough to close the doors behind him almost immediately, instead of waiting a few moments, as most elevators did.
“Way to go, Jess,” Clint called from where he was practicing shooting, giving her a thumbs up. “Sexually harassing teenagers is a great pastime.”
“Oh shut up, Clint,” she grumbled, crossing her arms. Guilt creased the skin between her eyebrows. “I didn’t mean to get him so worked up. I thought we were on the same page, but apparently not.”
Steve sighed, putting a hand on her shoulder. “It’s probably a touchy subject you hit with him,” he said. “He’ll be fine in a couple of days.” She pursed her lips, obviously still feeling guilty. “I’ll go give him a ride--”
He was interrupted by JARVIS. “Mr. Rogers, Director Fury requests your presence in a meeting.”
“Tell him I’ll do it later,” Steve responded as Jessica moved to go back to her workout.
“It wasn’t a request, sir. Director Fury is having...difficulties with Mr. Stark.”
Steve groaned tiredly, already sensing a headache. “Then I guess I’m going now,” he said reluctantly. He turned around the room. “Anyone care to give Peter a ride? Anyone?”
“I will.”
Luke and Clint made sounds of surprise when Natasha spoke, watching her come out of the showers clean and wearing civilian clothes. Her face was cool and collected, as it always was, and a pair of car keys were hanging from one of her fingers.
“Uh, are you sure?” Steve asked warily. He knew that her intentions were good--she did have a softspot for the youngest on the team--but she had a habit of being much too blunt with emotional situations.
“Yup,” she responded shortly, already in the elevator. “Tell Stark I’m taking one of his cars.”
The men watched the doors close, uncertain how to feel. Steve made a pained sound and left the room when JARVIS called for him again.
***
“Peter.”
Blinking, the teenager stared at the car that had pulled up next to him. It was almost...unnerving to see Natasha wearing messy, casual clothes, in the driver's seat of a sleek sportscar.
"Get in," she instructed, unlocking the passenger door. "I'll drive you to Wade's."
Peter hopped in, eager to get out of the bitter cold. He closed the door behind him, holding his freezing fingers against the warm vents.
There were a few moments of uncomfortable silence, until Peter finally cleared his throat. “Thanks for giving me a ride.”
She shrugged a shoulder, not taking her eyes off the road. “It was going to be Luke, Logan or me. I figured you’d prefer to talk to someone who actually has conversational skills that don’t consist of grunts.”
That earned a weak smile. “So we’re going to talk?”
Natasha sighed, stopping at a light. “Steve wants someone to talk to you about sex and relationships. He wants you tell me what’s going on, me to tell you everything’s alright and give you insightful advice, and then we have a touching moment before we go on with our days.”
Peter couldn’t help but laugh at the sarcasm and bluntness of her statement. “Isn’t that what you’re going to do?”
“Wasn’t planning on it. I figured you’d tell me when you were ready, and judging by how Tony was acting, he’s already talked to you.” She glanced over, and Peter nodded. “Good. As long as it’s someone.”
Natasha pulled smoothly up to the curb in front of Wade’s apartment building. As Peter unbuckled his seatbelt, she turned in her seat to look at him. “I’m going to try and not be so gushy and emotional. But really. If you ever need anyone to talk to, or need me to kick someone’s ass for messing with you, I’m here.”
“Uh, thanks,” Peter managed. He gave her a sincere smile. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“And please, for the love of God, talk to Jessica,” she called to him before he shut the door. “There’s enough angst around the Tower as it is without her moping and whining about how much she hurt your feelings.”
Peter chuckled. “Yeah, I’ll talk to her. Thanks, Nat.”
She gave him a rare smile. “Have fun with Wade.” Peter shut the car door and Nat left, smoothly avoiding cars.
Wade buzzed Peter into the building, greeting him at the door of his apartment with a kiss on the cheek.
“Nazi zombies sound good?” he asked cheerily, gesturing grandly to the pile of movies on the couch.
“Ugh, no,” Peter wrinkled his nose. “Try to come up with something better.” His boyfriend squawked, earning a loud laugh.
