86. “Let me show you what happens to little brats who don’t follow the rules.”
87. “Think you can handle that much?”
94. “Be a good girl/boy and do what I tell you.”
100. “Call me selfish, but I don’t ever want anyone else to touch you.”
Peter is the world’s biggest brat. One of his favourite hobbies is to rile Tony up by sending rather scandalous photos of himself while the man’s at work.
Tony pretends not to be as amused as he is. He says things like, “Let me show you what happens to little brats who don’t follow the rules.” But Peter knows he’s bluffing, because Tony clearly enjoys this as much as him, if not more.
So Peter just grins and informs him via text that he can try, but it won’t work.
Tony takes it as a challenge. “Think you can handle that much, hm?” It’s not hard at all for him to knock Peter off balance with a few simple words. “Be a good boy and do what I tell you.” Tony doesn’t disappoint. He proceeds to direct Peter to send more photos.
Peter is a very, very good boy.
And at the end of the day, Tony has just one thing to say. “Call me selfish, but I don’t ever want anyone else to touch you.”
Content Warning: Kink Negotiation, Daddy Kink, Verbal Degradation, Bratty Peter
Excitement couldn’t begin to describe the elation Tony felt after receiving a text from Peter on the Thursday after their dinner. That dinner, the way Peter talked to him, the dim lighting in the room making Peter glow, Tony was enchanted, bewitched, and irrevocably smitten. He couldn't help but ruminate on the evening, on everything, really. It was true that Tony was a powerful man. Tony lived at the top of the world, everything at his disposal, be it people or things, but he couldn't seem to possess Peter. He had been waiting all week to hear from the confident, beautiful, sassy boy, whether it was an order or a question or a sweet word. Tony wanted anything and everything from him.
Did you deposit my allowance, Daddy? I want to buy a new outfit for when I see you.
Tony grinned like an idiot at his phone and quickly began typing back.
I did, angel, just as you asked.
Good job <3
What’s your favorite color?
The fact that Peter cared enough to ask filled him with joy and those damn butterflies again. He supposes he should be grateful, after all he was an old man now and this pretty young thing brought him back to life. It’s not like he was ever alone, after all he was surrounded by people every day, be it at the office or at a party of some kind. Though he was never really alone, he was lonely; and then along came Peter.
Red, any shade. I’m also a fan of gold.
Why?
One, because I asked. Two, I’m trying to find a suitable outfit for our date. Does Saturday at 11 work? I want brunch.
Tony could do brunch. He knew the perfect place in the Upper East Side that had amazing french toast and the best mimosas. It had a french country aesthetic and it was just a charming little place owned by a woman from Paris. Tony liked it so much he had his own table reserved for him at all times on the patio, it was a peaceful place away from all the paparazzi and fans.
I’d love to see you then, sweetheart. I know the perfect place to get brunch, so leave that to me. Do you want me to pick you up?
Tony held his breath as he watched the three little dots keep going. What all was Peter typing out?
You can come pick me up. Be here around 10 so we can get to brunch on time. I want you to have a list of terms. Things you will agree to do, be it financially or sexually, and what you expect of me. I’ll have mine, too. I don’t want you in over your head.
He sucked in a breath, heart swelling at the last sentence. Peter cared, he had to in some capacity. Tony could feel his blood pulsing through his veins.
I’ll make sure to have something put together.
Good Daddy. I expect you to wear something nice for me. Don’t text me for the rest of the week and focus on your list. XOXO
Tony’s hands started to shake with nerves- or was it excitement? He wanted to text Peter and talk to him, but he had his orders.
Orders…
Tony was normally the one giving commands, not following them. It felt kind of liberating in a strange way. These were things to think about another day, right now he had to work on that list and in spite of being a genius he had no clue where to start.
-
He was outside Peter's building at exactly 10 o'clock and he had been waiting on him for 5 minutes now. Tony's palms began to sweat as he waiting, anticipation building higher and higher still. He did as Peter asked and dressed up some, wearing a black graphic t-shirt saying “Han Shot First” in red writing and a charcoal gray blazer and matching pants. Tony couldn't change his style completely after all.
Peter walked out of the building at exactly 10:10, strutting his way to Tony's car. The boy looked ravishing again, wearing a simple pair of red skinny jeans (so tight, so perfect) and a white shirt with the Gucci insignia on it. The look was complete with what looked to be a gold Audemars Piguet watch. Clearly, Peter had expensive taste and Tony could definitely work with that. He’d step it up a notch and get Peter a watch covered in diamonds.
The older man stepped out of the driver's seat to open Peter's door, heart skipping a beat as the boy kissed his cheek as a greeting. His cheek was left sticky from lip gloss and up this close he could see a golden sheen on Peter's face that he couldn't decide on whether it was makeup or the boy's natural glow.
“Hi, Daddy. How are you?” Peter asked, somehow making getting in a car a graceful movement. Abnormal levels of grace must be a superpower Peter possessed.
“I'm great now that you're here,” Tony confessed, smiling down at Peter and memorizing his face. Peter smirked up at him.
“Get in the car, weirdo.”
-
Peter took in the little restaurant with a small smile, his gaze traveling from the soft, blue walls to the rustic furniture, and the lovely paintings of the countryside. That small smile felt like a triumph for Tony.
“Hello, Mr. Stark. I have your table ready,” the hostess said, guiding both of them to a table on the patio. It was a lovely August day, a perfect mesh of summer sunshine with a cool breeze. Tony couldn't hope for better. “I'll have the kitchen press the juice for your drinks. The usual mimosas, correct?”
“Please, Mimi. Ask the server to bring out some pastries as well-”
“No pastries, please. Some fresh fruit instead,” Peter interrupted, smiling as Mimi looked between him and Tony, clearly taken aback.
A tingling sensation ran from the top of Tony's spine down to his feet. “As he says. He's the boss,” Tony said with a chuckle, finding it to be too true. How did he feel about that? Well, it was feeling good so far.
Once the hostess left, Peter turned to Tony. “Good job recognizing who is in charge here. Your money is my money and I'll spend it on what I want,” Peter said with a bratty tone, “I'm the prince and you're my bank account. Got it?”
“Loud and clear, prince,” Tony said, voice breathy and eyes wide.
“Good. Now about these terms- thank you,” Peter said with a smile to the server that brought the fruit, looking so innocent and sweet. Seeing both sides of the same coin just made that bratty, snooty behavior all the more appealing. Peter looked like a butterfly but had the bite of a cobra.
“As I was about to say,” he began, popping a berry into his mouth, “First thing, no sweets around me because I'm on a diet. Second, what do you want out of this? I know you're new, but what do you like so far?”
The question took him aback. He thought about this, made a list, but speaking up now seemed like a challenge, like his lips are sewn shut.
Peter sighed, reach across the table to hold one of Tony's hands, giving it a reassuring squeeze. “You can talk to me, you know? The brat thing is a service. I'm still a real person just as you are,” Peter said, voice quiet and expression soft. The change in attitude took Tony aback as he witnessed the hidden sweetness in the boy across from him.
“Thank you...I think I want you to keep on being spoiled. I like spoiling you. I like you calling the shots. It's...it's different, so different from how my life usually is and the role I have to play,” Tony began, looking at Peter for approval. He got a nod indicating that he should continue. “I want you to demand things of me. I want you to keep treating me how you have been.”
“Good attitude, Tony. Just remember this is not a romantic arrangement. This is a business transaction between us. I give you what you want and you give me what I want. Reciprocity. Remember what I said before, about the monetary requirements?” Peter asked and Tony nodded, “Are those truly something you agree to? I'm not the type to take advantage, I'm really not. I can and will work within your terms. What is the maximum amount you're willing to spend for me?”
The answer was so easy for him. “Yes,” Tony replied, “I want this arrangement and there is no limit. I'm a genius, billionaire, playboy, philanthropist after all.”
Peter bit his lip and sized Tony up, head tilted to the side. Tony sat up a little straighter, waiting for Peter's judgement to be decreed.
“Ok, I can work with that. It seems you like level of verbal degradation. How far do you want me to go with that? Do you want me to keep calling you ‘Daddy’? Do you want me to call you slutty or a worm? I can be a real bully if you want me to,” Peter said, giving Tony's hand another squeeze before pulling away to eat more berries.
Tony was about to respond when they were interrupted by their server who brought them their mimosas.
“What can I get you gentlemen today?” she asked, taking out her pen and paper.
“Uh….” was Tony's clever response. He forgot to look at the damn menu.
“He’ll have the eggs florentine and I'll take some type of egg white omelet with vegetables in it. Surprise me,” Peter said for both of them, smiling that sweet smile at their server, who all but cooed over the faunlet, hurrying away to put in their order.
No one had ordered food for Tony since his mother was alive. It made him feel cared for, it made him feel something nameless that swelled in his chest, expanding his rib cage and emptying his lungs.
“So,” Peter started, sipping on his mimosa, “we were going to talk degradation limits. How far do you want me to take it?”
“Well, I know I like the Daddy thing and I'm definitely not a worm. Let's just...keep it Daddy for now, prince,” Tony answered, sipping at his mimosa as well. The champagne did nothing to get rid of the dryness that took over his mouth.
“About sex now. I'm up for it if you are. You have that sexy silver fox vibe that I'm into, it's why I called you Daddy in the first place. So, do you want to touch me, Daddy?” Peter asked, lashes fluttering and a devious grin on his face. Very unfair and sexy of the boy.
“I definitely want to touch you, baby boy. I have some rules for that-”
“Me first. Remember it is always me first in our upcoming arrangement,” Peter reminded, setting his glass down to nibble on more berries. The fruit was staining his pink little tongue all bright red. “I plan on getting tested soon.If you pass an STD test, I am open to oral sex without a condom, being eaten out, anal sex with toys and with you as long as you wear a condom. No fisting, no biting, no attitude. We won’t sleep with anyone outside our arrangement, but don't worry, I'll be more than enough to satisfy you. Got it?”
Those rules seemed reasonable enough.
“I can follow along with that. I don't bottom for sex, at all. I top only. That good with you?” the older man asked, setting his glass down to pop a berry in his mouth. He sure hoped the boy would be good with that.
“Sounds good to me. I prefer bottoming anyways. Do you have any limits I should be aware of?” Peter asked, all business but the embodiment of pure pleasure, of milk and honey and venom.
They were interrupted once more by their server arriving with their plates and fresh mimosas. “Bon appetit,” she said, smiling at the couple before leaving them to enjoy their food.
Tony watched as Peter began to dig in. He was really cute when he ate and he ate with gusto. Peter might be a delectable and sensual being but he still had the appetite of a young man, whether he would admit it or not. That egg white omelet must be good because it was almost gone.
“Limits, huh?” Tony said thoughtfully, taking a bite of his food as he turned the idea over in his mind. Two things came to mind immediately: One, a grown man should be able to rattle off their limits with ease. Two, Peter made a great choice with the food. “My limits are similar to yours. I'd like to add no leaving marks where they can be seen and no disclosing our arrangement to anyone. That good for now?”
“It is. Now for the fun part. Tell me what you like, Daddy? What do you want this little prince to do with you?” Peter asked in a teasing voice, picking up his glass and licking it in a blatantly sexual manner from the where the stem met the glass to the rim, berry stained tongue licking over the glass like it was a cock before taking a sip of his drink. Yeah, Tony was in over his head but at least a strong swimmer. Tony gulped, eyes trained on Peter's mouth.
“I definitely want to see those lips wrapped around my cock,” Tony said, taking another bite of food before noticing Peter's disapproving look. “What? Did I say something wrong?”
Peter scoffed, downing the rest of his drink. “Remember who you're talking to. This is about me. All of this,” Peter gestures between them, “is about my pleasure. Try again.”
Tony looked anywhere but at Peter, feeling truly dressed down by a boy. How did he wind up in this position?
“I'm sorry, prince. I would like to see your lips wrapped around my cock if…” Tony paused, glancing up at Peter to see if he was on the right track, breath catching when Peter waved for him to continue, “if it pleases you.”
“Good answer. Eat your food and I'll tell you what I want you to do,” Peter said, once more sounding like it was an order and not a choice, “I want to suck on your fat cock, Daddy, I really do. I wanna choke on it and drool all over it. But here's the catch- you'll be wearing a cock ring and you don't get to come until I say so. You'll fuck both my mouth and my hole and you get to come after me if you're lucky. Sound good?”
