7. Just One Kiss(pt.2) |Starker (smut)

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Peter was extremely giddy. He had just kissed Mr. Stark. On the lips. He didn't even think he would have gotten the courage to ask him, but all of a sudden the words, "could I have a kiss?" had come out of his mouth and then he was kissing the Tony Stark.

He could hardly think properly as he put his suit on and Karen wasn't helping. She kept asking him if he actually got a kiss. And what Mr. Stark's lips felt like. She kept pestering him until he answered at least one of her questions.

"Yes, Karen. I actually got a kiss. Two, if you count a kiss on the cheek. Now can you stop bothering me about him? I'm already embarrassed I asked him in the first place," Peter answered her slowly, a light blush rising to his cheeks.

Karen made a content humming noise. Apparently, his answer satisfied her.

It didn't satisfy him, however. He wanted more.

The 'more' in this situation was complicated. It wasn't how it was complicated. It was why it was complicated.

Mr. Stark simply wouldn't let it happen. And at the rate he was going, Peter wasn't going to let it happen either. He couldn't let it happen. It would ruin his relationship, however strenuous, and he didn't want that to happen.

Peter swung through the tall buildings of Queens, looking for any signs of trouble. At first, he didn't see any, but a distant alarm bell told him otherwise. He migrated towards the sound, where two men were attempting to rob a bank.

He dropped to the ground and webbed one guy's hand to the ATM he was attempting to hack into. The other charged at him, but Peter flipped out of the way and strung Robber Number Two to the glass.

"The cops will be here in about ten minutes. Good luck getting out of those webs by the way," Peter told them, and for good measure, he made sure Robber Number One's other hand up.

Then he finished his nightly rounds, leaving multiple people webbed against ever-increasingly weird places. And he returned back to the Avengers tower.

Unsurprisingly, the tower was quiet, with everyone most likely ending up in bed long before he got back. Peter glanced at the clock and did a double take. it was almost three in the morning!

He never usually got back so late, and if he did, it was because there was a huge problem he had to deal with.

There was one person he knew would be awake, despite his "nonchalant" attitude about him.

Peter did have to make sure though. "Hey, FRIDAY?"

"Yes, Peter? Did you need something? Or. Did you need to know if Mr. Stark is awake? If so, your answer is yes." The monotone female voice told him, and as she finished speaking, Tony himself walked into the bar.

Peter ducked down, but Tony was too sleep deprived to notice that he was there. So Peter contented himself with watching Tony from afar.

Tony's hair was tousled as if he had run a hand through it multiple times in the span of time he was in his shop. His eyes were red, and from the distance Peter was at, it looked like he had been crying. But never, in Peter's several years of knowing Mr. Stark, had he ever seen him cry.

He watched as Tony reached for a bottle of scotch and set it down on the counter extremely slow. Then Peter watched as Tony shakily poured the whiskey over some ice, splashing a few drops onto the counter.

That made Peter freeze. What had shaken Mr. Stark up so badly that he wasted whiskey? Mr. Stark never wasted alcohol, even when he was drunk.

"Peter. I know you're there. Would you stop hiding behind the couch? You look like an oddly shaped throw pillow that someone abandoned behind the couch. C'mere," Tony said, his back still facing Peter.

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