I’ll Be Home - Starker
@starkersecretsanta @lilsoshie For you <3
The story starts when Soldier Tony comes home for a few days, and is introduced to the love of his life.
TW: Mentions of war, overload of fluff, A/O dynamics, mutual pining
Happily Holidays, my dancing sugar plums!
Tony remembers his first station.
Just off the coast of Kuwait, he was a fresh recruit, eighteen years old and awkward with a gun in his hand.
Though the army is Alpha-only, Tony had never really thought he’d want to join until he finished school. He remembers that first year, remembers the fear, remembers the confidence building, remembers the shared-smiles of people in his platoon.
Stephen had been his bunkmate during training camp, and the two have been inseparable since. Stephen’s an irritating, self-righteous ass, a damn fine medical doctor, and Tony would lay down his life for him.
One night in February, fresh off the plane, their general hires out a bar and fills it with dancers and family and lays on a huge spread. Tony’s just about to treat himself to the most expensive drink on the menu, when Stephen taps his arm.
“Anthony, I want you to meet my brother. General Rogers had him flown out as a surprise for me.”
Tony lifts his eyebrows, already a little bemused at the softness around Stephen’s eyes. He’s never seen that before. A gentle smile on the doctor’s face, relaxed in a way that’s impossible to be unless you’re home.
Out from behind the other Alpha, a little omega steps.
He can feel his lips part, feel his mouth drop open a little in awe. The omega is beautiful. Tony’s never seen anyone so beautiful in his whole life. He has dark hair like Stephen, but it’s all fluffy and curly. He’s tiny, with huge honey eyes and lips like pink oceans.
Tony doesn’t know what love at first sight is. He’s never read about it in books, never known anyone who experienced it, never heard stories. All he knows is that the second he lays eyes on the boy, he can see it all. In a flash he sees a future of shared smiles and kisses, he sees a family of curly haired children and a dog running in with the paper in his mouth. He sees the boy in white walking down an aisle, a veil framing him in all his glory, he sees-
“Peter, this is Tony, he’s the most narcissistic, egotistical, brilliant soldier I know. I’m very proud to call him my friend. Tony, this is Peter, the best little brother in the world and Brooklyn’s finest obstetrician in training.”
Okay, Stephen’s gotta be pretty drunk to be this nice, but Tony doesn’t even have the focus to mock him for the sentimentality. Peter. Perfect, beautiful Peter Strange. He’s got the loveliest blush on his cheeks, ducking his head like he’s shy and Tony’s heart-
Peter holds out his hand. “Nice to meet you,” he beams, a sunbeam, a fucking ray of sunshine- “and I’m not very good, Stephen’s the real doctor.”
Stephen scoffs in outrage and Tony grins, tipping his head.
“I’m sure that’s not true. There’s quite clearly something special in your family’s genes.” Tony murmurs, feeling stupid even as the words leave his mouth. He can just picture this omega with babies now, babbling in his arms, babies with big eyes and soft skin and-
A woman from across the bar calls Stephen’s name and he wanders off leaving the two with each other. Peter blushes again.
“Let me buy you a drink.” Tony offers and Peter smiles.
“No, no, please let me buy you one. It’s the least I can do- thank you for-for your service, it’s- so- so brave-“
Tony laughs, feeling a little giddy. “I’ll have a beer. And I’ll get you a…” he glances at the drinks on the board. “A blueberry horizon.”
The omega hops onto a barstool and Tony slides in beside him. Peter nods delightedly. “Okay. Are they nice?”
“I think you’ll like it, I have an eye.” The alpha hums, “it’s very sweet. Like you.”
Another glorious blush.
Tony remembers that night. Eighteen years old and his first time back. He remembers talking to Peter all night, remembers them leaning into each other, feeling the heat of the omega’s body, he remembers Peter’s giggle, remembers steadying him when the two had gone outside for some fresh air.
He remembers the starlight in Peter’s eyes, and the flush across the bridge of his nose.
“I want you.” He’d whispered, drunk off alcohol and lust.
Peter had blinked up at him sweetly. “Want me to do what?” He’d whispered back, and Tony’s chest had clenched something fierce.
“To…to take a walk with me.” He’d offered instead, holding out his arm like a gentleman. “To look at the moon with me.”
Peter had been speechless for a moment, looking up at him in wonder. “It’s like an old movie.” He’d beamed and Tony laughed.
They’d strolled away into the darkness and by the time dawn came up, Tony was in love.
***
It’s been a few years since then. Tony’s twenty-five now, and his six-year contract has finally come to an end.
“You’re not gonna stay on?” Stephen asks in surprise, renewing his contract as a field medic for another five.
“Enough for me,” Tony murmurs, looking up at the moon the way he always does when he feels like he could finally get everything he wants.
The problem with only being back in America a few weeks at a time is that over the past few years, he and Peter have only seen each other on a handful of occasions. They’re friends. Peter writes and sends care-packages to both his brother and Tony.
On average, Tony’s seen him maybe two days a year for the past seven years.
Each time Peter is more beautiful. Last time was at a New Years Party, with Peter breathlessly regaling him with a story of a premature birth, hands moving expressively, as the two of them leaned against the railing on the roof and watched fireworks going in the distance.
“I’ve missed you, Pete,” Tony had admitted, wincing at his own lack of tact. “I never get to see you.”
“Aw, Tony,” Peter had knocked their hips together, resting his head on Tony’s shoulder. “I miss you too. But it means we always have lots to talk about when you’re back.”
They talk and talk and they have a good time, but there are topics that are never touched on.
Tony’s never asked if Peter’s seeing anyone. Never broached it with Stephen either. It hadn’t seemed fair to express any sort of interest, to stake any sort of claim, not while he was away so often. The thought- the miraculous thought- of Peter liking Tony back, and then having to wait for him. To wait alone for a few days of snatched contact, to be lonely and unsupported and-
The thought was too agonising.
So, Tony has waited and waited and-
“I want to go home. Settle down. Be around.”
Stephen smiles, pouring the both of them some bourbon. “Any idea where you’ll go?”
Tony takes the glass as it’s offered. “Brooklyn, maybe.”
Stephen chuckles in surprise. “Well good, keep an eye on Peter for me. He adores you, you know.”
Tony’s fingers tremble and he hopes it’s true.
Stephen gives him a look then, curious and frighteningly intelligent, but he doesn’t say anything. They play cards and drink bourbon and Stephen accuses him of cheating.
At the end of the night in their bunks, Stephen talks into the darkness.
“I’ll miss you, Stark. You’re…you’re like another brother to me.”
Tony says, “I’ll miss you too,” and thinks about what it might be like having Stephen as a brother-in-law.
He thinks it might be pretty great.
***
As a young Alpha in Brooklyn fresh out of the army, he’s treated with a lot of respect. People nod at him, offer to buy him drinks and clap him on the back like he’s an old friend.
He finds a place to rent and gets a great deal even though he doesn’t need it. He’s got a lot saved up. His fingers itch to call Peter, but first he goes to a few job interviews. Tries to get a feel for living in the city and having his own space after so long of sharing and barracks.
He gets the first job he applies for. It’s as a security consultant for a big firm. It’s good pay and the female Alpha who shakes his hand is no-nonsense and impressed with him.
He buys himself a bed.
He spends a lot on it. It’s ludicrously big and the mattress is extra plush, queen, memory foam. He gets a fancy headboard and high-thread blankets. When he tries to sleep on it that night, it’s a little awkward. He sinks into the softness, feels unnatural.
He tells himself he wants a change, but he’s lying. The bed isn’t for him.
It’s for the softest, most beautiful, most deserving person Tony knows.
***
“Tony!” Peter cries, leaping into his arms in the March sunshine and clutching him tight. Tony lifts him clear off the ground: breathing him in.
Tony’s in uniform. He feels more comfortable in it, but also, he thinks that maybe- maybe Peter likes seeing him in it. A few people on the street around them aww and applaud, but Tony has eyes for none of them.
Peter’s in a bumble bee sweater and white jeans, looking so pleased to see him that Tony wants to- wants to make his move.
But no. It’s not the right time. He’s just got back, he’s just moved to Brooklyn, he’s just started his job- it’s too soon.
“Wow,” Peter murmurs, tracing his finger down the jagged line near Tony’s eye. His touch is like heaven and Tony leans into his caress. “A close call?”
“Real close.”
“I’m glad you’re safe.” Peter whispers, eyes huge, “and it’s very, very handsome.”
The scar had bled and bled and hurt like a bitch when it happened-
And Tony would do it again in a heartbeat, just for the way Peter wets his lips as he looks up at him.
***
Over the next few months, things move slowly.
Tony has a few bad dreams, writes letters to Stephen, and does his job. He buys more furniture, puts down more roots in the form of a real oak coffee table and a tv with cable.
He visits Peter at the hospital he works at. He sees Peter as everything he knew he could be. Capable, brilliant, eyes flickering over information and reassuring to the pregnant Omegas. Peter’s hands are confident, assured, as they touch round bellies or squirming, wriggly babies.
After his shift, they go and get lunch.
“It’s like watching Stephen,” Tony says in awe, “you’re brilliant.”
Peter blushes and smiles, a classic Tony adores, and takes a bite of his salmon. Tony watches it go past his lips. “Well I think you’re brilliant.”
“And devastatingly handsome.”
“It’s devastating alright,” Peter teases. “So, what’s new? Have you made any friends in your building yet?”
Tony makes a face. “Why on earth would I want friends in my building?”
“Fine, Mr Grumps, what about…um…have you been…dating, or- or anything? Seeing someone?”
Tony stills, eyes flickering over Peter’s face trying to read him. What does that mean? But the omega looks carefully schooled, focused on his lunch. Is Peter asking as a friend? Or asking because- because- “I’m not seeing anyone,” Tony murmurs, waiting for Peter’s reaction. “Are you?”
“You’re- me? No, no…”
“No?” Tony hums, “no Alpha swept you off your feet?”
Peter’s honey eyes meet his. There’s silence for a beat, before Peter looks away. “Well, I mean- it’s just hard to find the time.”
“Is there someone you’re interested in?” Tony asks, voice a little too rough.
Those big, beautiful eyes keep looking at him, and then Peter’s pager beeps and they both seem relieved.
Tony finishes his lunch alone and tries to think. Maybe it’s time, maybe it’s time he made a move. He’s wanted Peter since that night in the bar. He’s back now, he’s-
But no. No, it’s not the right time and Peter’s right. The omega works so hard and doctors’ shifts are long and tiring and-
No. Not yet.
***
Peter’s apartment is all bronze accents and fluffy pillows. It’s near the hospital and has a pretty good view that makes up for all the sirens that go by.
“I swear you’ve spoilt me.” Tony moans after he’s finished dessert. Peter’s cooking is phenomenal. After three helpings of spaghetti and chocolate brownie for dessert, he’s so content he could purr.
Peter laughs, licking chocolate from his fingertips in a way that’s obscene. “I love watching you eat. I wish I could just feed you all the time, make sure you’re getting enough.”
It’s a very omega thing to say to an Alpha. Very traditional. Very domestic. Very intimate. What does it mean?
“It’s late,” Peter says, standing up and stretching. Tony can’t drag his eyes away from him. From the gorgeous figure he makes even in his frumpy green sweater with the floral collar and chocolate on his mouth.
He pulls himself to his feet and reaches for his coat. “You’ve got an early shift-“
“No, I mean-“ Peter takes a step closer, swallowing hard, looking brave. “I mean, it’s late, you could…if you wanted, you could just stay over…”
Tony frowns, “what do you mean? The commute will be a bitch in the morning.”
Tony doesn’t understand when Peter looks embarrassed. “Nothing, no, don’t worry, I was just being silly, sorry.”
Tony doesn’t like that. Doesn’t like Peter looking awkward and humiliated. He feels like he’s missed something. “Pete?” He prompts gently, “are you alright? Was it a…was it a bad shift today?” That happens sometimes. Tragic things happen and Peter gets small and sad and needs someone to lean against for a few days, Tony gets that. “I’ll stay, sweetheart-“
“No, no, you don’t-“
“Hey, hey,” he collects the boy into his arms. “I’m here for you, okay? I’m here for you.” He kisses Peter’s temple: holds him tight. It takes a second, but eventually Peter relaxes into his embrace and they stand there, wrapped around each other.
Eventually they pull apart a little, and Peter peeks up at him.
Maybe now, Tony thinks to himself. Maybe this is the moment, maybe this is the right time-
But no. Peter’s had a long day and-
Warm and soft and perfect is the kiss placed onto the corner of Tony’s mouth.
He’s so stunned that he can only stand there, unmoving, staring down at the omega in shock.
Peter’s the colour of a rose petal, looking like the bravest thing in the world.
Tony can’t even move. Does this- is this-
Peter stretches onto his tiptoes, hands still clutching Tony’s shoulders, and slower, much slower, presses another little butterfly kiss right onto the corner of Tony’s mouth.
He can hear his heart beating in his ears- is this- does he-
He’s hyperaware of his hand on Peter’s waist, one on the small of his back, of how they’re pressed together, of how perfect-
“Tony, I really like you.” Peter whispers, breath fanning over Tony’s face. “I was um…I was wondering if-“
“Yes,” Tony croaks, “yes, yes, yes, yesyesyesyes.”
Peter makes the most adorable sound of delight, and kisses Tony right on the mouth.
He tastes of chocolate and love and Tony sees it all again. He sees the golden mornings and the crosswords in bed. He sees the dog coming into the kitchen with the paper in his mouth, he sees a future, his future, with the love of his life-
“Hey Tony,” Peter giggles, lashes all wet with tears, “I adore you.”
Tony lets out a sob and buries his face into Peter’s curls.
Coffee tables and cable can go screw themselves. He doesn’t need roots to be tethered somewhere- with Peter, he’s always home.
***
On Christmas Eve, Christine and Peter are making mince pies and competitively quoting It’s a Wonderful Life, and Tony’s in the living room, phone to his ear.
“How’s Christie?”
“You just spoke to her-“
“How is she really, Anthony?”
Tony sighs. “She misses you, but we’ve got her, Stephen, don’t worry. She understands. It’s just hard.”
Stephen’s silent for a while. Tony wonders if he’s thinking about his contract. Stephen clears his throat: “It’s a squeeze the three of you in that tiny flat, when are you and Peter going to get a house?”
“We’re gonna start searching after Christmas,” Tony chuckles, “Guess what I’ve got Pete for Christmas.”
“Something ingenious no doubt. A framed photo of yourself?”
“Ha ha. No, get this,” Tony drops his voice, “it’s a puppy.”
“Really?”
“Uh huh,” Tony grins, “Rhodes is bringing it over tomorrow morning, crack of dawn.”
“Tony, he’s going to love it.”
“I know, right? Best-present-ever-sex is definitely on the table.”
“That’s my brother, Tony.”
“Not literally on the table, Christie’s here-“
“I’ve got you something.”
Tony laughs in surprise. “Really? How’d you pull that off? You didn’t have to do that, Stephen-“
“Shut up and let me tell you what it is.”
“Is it good?”
“Obviously. You’re going to feel bad about making sex jokes.”
“I’m excited.”
“Christie should’ve put it under the tree- in an envelope.”
Tony hums in surprise, looking under the tree where all the presents are. Sure enough, there’s a red envelope with his name on it. He examines it curiously. “What is it?”
“Open it, you moron.”
Tony rolls his eyes, balancing the phone in the crook of his neck, and opens it up. Inside is what looks like an old letter. He glances at it in confusion. “What am I looking at here, Doc?”
“It’s a letter Peter wrote me a very long time ago.”
Yes, he can recognise Peter’s handwriting now, doctor-scruffy with lots of loops. It’s very sweet. Tony gets the gist of the first few paragraphs. Peter asks if Stephen’s safe, tells him he misses him, how his studies are going and then- and then-
You might not remember but you introduced me to one of your friends when you were here last month. His name’s Tony. Is he single? He’s got the prettiest dark brown eyes and he was really nice to me and I was just wondering if he’d told you about me? We went for a walk and we talked all night. Do you think he might like me? Could you tell him I say hi? Don’t make me sound like a dork! He’s not like any Alpha I’ve ever met before. And mom said to call her! And-
“Holy shit.”
“Indeed.”
“A month after we met- a month after-“
“Yes, Tony,” Stephen sighs, but his voice is fond. “I’ve had the pleasure of seeing you two pine for seven years. I thought you might like it. I don’t say it often, but I do love you, Tony. I’m very glad you’re with my brother. However, you do worry. You’re a soldier and you have a keen sense of time and when to do things, but you hesitated with Peter. I’m not sure why, maybe you thought he didn’t like you, but regardless, I think, in love, just doing what feels right is okay, from time to time. Especially with you and Peter.”
“Stephen…”
“Merry Christmas, Tony.”
“I’m so glad I met you. You’ve changed my life.”
Stephen sniffles, like he might be crying. Tony calls Christie in, to let the two of them say goodbye, and heads into the kitchen.
Peter beams at him, flour on his cheeks. “George Bailey, I’ll love you till the day I die!” He quotes merrily, skipping over to peck Tony’s cheek, and Tony thinks about Stephen, and about love and about the puppy he’s going to give Peter tomorrow and the dog it’ll grow into and the kitchen they’ll have. He thinks about timings and all the waiting and the missed moments and then- he doesn’t think, he just does.
The first thing he says is: “I love you so much, Peter.”
And the next thing he does is get down onto one knee.
--
merry christmas @lilsoshie your prompts were all equally amazing so it was really hard to choose, so I tried to merge a few of them together. I hope you liked this and that you have an amazing Christmas! All the love in the world1
#starkersecretsanta2019
