Can I have some fluff please??? The cliche of people not believing Peter is dating the infamous Tony Stark and they make fun of him for it? I really just want some fluff 😊, I love your writing so much!
“I can’t believe he let’s you up here, Penis,” Flash mutters. He’s walking the perimeter of the room taking in the penthouse: the incredible view from the windows, the framed photo of the Avengers on the wall, all the glassy, modern furniture. It’s a beautiful room; Tony designed it.
“I live here, Flash,” Peter says flatly. “Tony and I are dating. I moved in, like, three weeks ago.”
“Sure,” Flash says, rolling his eyes. “Tony fucking Stark, and some pissant from Queens. That’s a match made in Heaven. What is it that he sees in you? Your excellent lineage? Your future prospects? Does May have a dowry of goats and cows to offer him, just like in Biblical times?”
“What the fuck are you even rambling about,” Peter sighs. He sits down heavily on the sofa, opening up his backpack. Teaming up with Flash for their assignment in Calc III at NYU was the last thing he had wanted, but the teacher had paired students together at random. And really? Peter has never been lucky. It was his own fault that, eagerly, he had mentioned, We can study at Stark Tower!
Flash sits down next to him. He puts his feet up on the glass coffee table.
“Feet off, heathen,” Peter says.
Flash ignores him. “This is just—so much work. So much effort for you to go through to try to convince me. I bet you’ve even got a room set up too, don’t you? With a toothbrush and a couple of your shirts and everything. Look, Flash, I live here, Flash, I promise!” The other boy snorts. “As if!”
“My room is Tony’s room,” Peter says flatly, flipping through his Calc book. “I don’t use a toothbrush because Tony licks my teeth clean every night. And I don’t need clothes because Tony likes me to walk around completely naked. Can we get this assignment over with? Like, yesterday?”
“I’m learning so much about us,” Tony says. Both boys jump, giving him identical expressions of shock: mouths agape, eyes wide. Peter’s softens, his cheeks flushing pink. He takes one of his mechanical pencils and throws it at Tony who barely manages to dodge it in time.
“Jerk,” Peter says, smiling. “Eavesdropping is morally wrong.”
“So is feet on my goddamn coffee table—Pete, kick him for me, won’t you?”
Peter kicks gently at Flash’s legs that drop with a heavy thud. The kid still looks like he’s about to have a stroke. “Mr. Stark,” he says. “I’m, like, your biggest fan.”
Tony pretends not to hear him. He crosses the room to drop a kiss on Peter’s forehead, and then (when the younger man tips his face up) on his lips. “I’m thinking we go out for dinner tonight, so work quick, okay sunbeam?”
“This won’t take long,” Peter says. “Can we go to that nice restaurant we went to for Natasha’s birthday? They served this bread, and I’ve been dreaming about it, I swear—”
“Anything for you, Pete.” He points a finger at Flash, finally acknowledging the other man’s presence. “Keep those feet off my table, understand?”
Flash looks like a bobble-head nodding. Tony loosens his tie, disappearing into their bedroom. Flash’s eyes follow him, mouth still refusing to shut all the way. When his eyes finally return to Peter, they stay wider than usual. Seeing him differently, now, most likely.
“So,” Peter says coolly. “Let’s get to work. I’ve got a date.”