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Peter didn’t know quite how it had happened. When he’d introduced the two of them, he hadn’t expected how well they’d hit it off. He hadn’t imagined the blossoming relationship it would create. The sheer idea of Prince Alexander and Timothy Hammer as a couple was mind-boggling, but when they’d announced to him that they were engaged to be married? Well, Peter had almost been brought to tears by how beautiful it all was.
His influence was truly, truly magnificent.
Prince Alexander of England, the guy who’d flirted with Peter on his first trip to London, had met Timothy Hammer (the guy who’d initially spied on Stark Industries as ‘Not-Paul' for his father’s company, Hammer Industries and then had become Peter’s favourite pet project as he tried to convince Justin Hammer that Peter and Timothy were lovers) at a gala Peter had invited them both to. He’d introduced them because they were of a similar age, and both of them had looked slightly lost. Peter had people to charm, but he’d taken a second out of his day to do some quick match making.
And now they were getting married.
One bonus of it was that Timothy had in fact been upgraded to heir of the company as a result of his engagement, so there was that. Timothy was genuinely undervalued in Hammer Industries: his father Justin was downright neglectful and had never paid much attention to his son, leaving him largely in the shadows. Peter was quite sad about it, actually, and hadn’t been far away from asking Timothy if he wanted a job at SI instead.
But when Timothy had gotten engaged to a royal? Well, that had changed everything. Suddenly Timothy was in the limelight, and it had people questioning what his role in Hammer Industries was. They immediately compared him to Peter, hence Justin was forced to make Timothy the heir of Hammer Industries. What a wonderful result of the whole thing!
“Peter, can I just remind you that Hammer Industries is in fact one of our competitors?” Tony complained as he put his cufflinks on, disgruntled. He was attending the wedding, of course, but was most upset about having to go.
“I know that. But they’re not much competition,” Peter told him. “And besides, we’re not here to support Hammer Industries. We’re supporting Timothy.”
Tony stared at him for a second, finishing the last cufflink. “And, just to clarify, you mean Timothy the guy who spied on our company and posed as Paul in Marketing? That Timothy?”
Peter nodded, and then remembered something about Tony’s role in the day that he’d conveniently forgotten to tell the man. “Yeah—oh, and you’re walking him down the aisle, by the way.”
Tony spluttered at that, and turned to glare at Peter. “I’m what?”
Peter winced. “Justin couldn’t make it. Something about an important meeting, so I told Timothy that I’d get you to do it instead.”
“I haven’t even met this kid and you want me to pretend to be his dad and walk him down the aisle in the place of his father?” Tony was still glaring.
“Please?” Peter begged. He himself couldn’t walk Timothy down the aisle himself, he had another role to play. If he could have done it, he would have.
Tony paused to think, and then said, “His dad blew him off at his wedding? Because of a meeting?”
“Asshole move, right?” Peter said, daring to hope. It seemed like Tony was actually considering it. That was good, cause the back up option was Thor, and Peter was pretty sure he was off-world.
Justin had said it was for a meeting. Peter privately thought it was because he was off sulking somewhere. The man always wanted good publicity for himself, and now his son was skyrocketing to fame because of Prince Alexander. He was likely just jealous. Peter had seen it before, in Justin’s case, whenever Peter had focused his attention on Timothy instead of Justin.
“Howard Stark kind of move,” Tony frowned, and then sighed. “Fine, fine. I’ll walk this kid down the aisle at his own wedding. But no-one—absolutely no-one—is filming me doing it.”
Most royal weddings were filmed, which was something that Peter hadn’t known. However, for this one, Alexander had requested for it to be slightly more authentic and therefore not to film the actual ceremony, or the reception. It also gave them the freedom to invite people who didn’t want to be filmed.
“That’s fine,” Peter accepted quickly, taking the win. “Lizzie and Alexander have agreed only to have professional photos, nothing’s being filmed. I’ll make sure they don’t get a shot of you.”
Obviously, it being a royal wedding, they’d had to go to the UK to have it, so they were based in Buckingham Palace. They got Jeremiah to drive them to the location of the wedding, a cathedral somewhere and as they got out of the car, Peter turned into his strategist mode. He found Timothy in a room somewhere by himself, tugging on his shirt and staring into a mirror.
“Peter,” Timothy’s eyes widened as he caught sight of him through the mirror. He seemed nervous, which Peter had kind of expected. It was his wedding day, and Timothy tended to be quite jumpy on a normal day.
“Timothy,” Peter greeted, and pulled his dad into the room behind him. “This is Tony, he’s agreed to walk you down the aisle.”
Timothy seemed thankful, and was about to say something, but that was interrupted by Tony’s next words.
“Oh no,” Tony shook his head in horror as he stared at Timothy Hammer for the first time. “No, no, no, no.” He gestured to Timothy. “This won’t do.”
Peter opened his mouth to yell at Tony, because the groom looked like he was about to burst into tears at the refusal to walk him down the aisle, but Tony continued before he could get a word in edgeways.
“You absolutely cannot wear a pocket square like that,” Tony stepped forwards and pulled the fabric out, staring at it. “Did the royal stylist really choose that? It’s fucking awful. Good news for you is that I always keep a spare on me. It’s my back up one, supposed to be for Peter because his sense of fashion can sometimes be poor, but luckily he’s dressed well today.”
Timothy visibly relaxed as he realised Tony wasn’t in fact rejecting the idea of walking him down the aisle, and Peter let out a sigh of relief, before proceeding to frown at the ‘poor sense of fashion’ comment, offended.
Tony replaced Timothy’s pocket square and put a hand on his shoulder. His dad was the master of panic attacks—a self-given title—and clearly recognised the pre-emptive signs of one in Timothy. “Hey kid, you’re going to be just fine.”
“I’m good,” Timothy said quietly, his breathing faster than usual and his face pale. “I’m—it’s all good.”
It was fairly obvious that it wasn’t all good.
Peter glanced at his watch. They didn’t have long before the main event, and as much as he didn’t want to leave Timothy, he had some co-ordination to be doing so the wedding would go smoothly. There were probably about fifty royal advisors making sure everything was set to be fine, but Alexander had specifically requested him to check over everything. It was kind of his role, in any case.
He hesitated from leaving, wanting to make sure Timothy was okay.
“I’ve got this,” Tony mouthed at Peter so Timothy wouldn’t see, and made a shooing manoeuvre with his hand. Tony knew Peter had lots of things on his schedule to do prior to the main event, and was happy to take care of Timothy throughout his panic attack. Peter scrambled to the door. He heard Tony’s next words, soothing. “We’ve got this, I’ve got you, won’t let you fall, okay?”
Tony’s ability to essentially adopt anyone younger than him after one simple conversation with them was one of Peter’s favourite things about the billionaire. He was already acting like a better father than Justin Hammer by just showing up to the wedding, but the tone that he was speaking to Timothy in? It was certainly unlike any interaction he’d ever seen between Justin Hammer and Timothy.
You would have expected the Royal Family to be extremely homophobic, demanding that Prince Alexander marry a woman, but to everyone’s surprise, they’d actually been extremely understanding about it. Queen Lizzie was an ardent supporter of the community, in fact, which had made the whole thing a lot less stressful.
Next thing on the list: check everything was in order. Rings, flowers, venue, priest, seating arrangements, Alexander himself. He’d left the other groom in the trust of Tony, and Peter was set on filling out his role as Best Man.
There had been a fight between the two grooms over who got Peter as their Best Man, which Peter had found simultaneously stressful and sweet. In the end, they’d had to agree that Peter was just the Best Man, not either of theirs. He hadn’t expected to be asked, because he didn’t even realise Timothy considered him a close friend—hell, most of their relationship had been based off of Peter sending him irrationally tacky gifts. And most of his interactions with Alexander had been the Prince flirting with him, at least until he’d fallen for Timothy instead.
In theory, Peter was really an honorary groom. They’d even included in the fine print of the invitation that every single guest had to seek out Peter at some point and compliment him. Peter had no idea why, or how that had been signed off by the wedding planners, but he strongly suspected it had something to do with Queen Lizzie.
Everything was perfect, in the end. Peter went into his work mode to supervise everything, and after he personally had to remake three bouquets (he was the only one around who was skilled at floristry), give Alexander a pep talk and locate the rings, they were all set to go.
Tony walked Timothy down the aisle, the ceremony went well, and then Timothy Hammer was officially married to a Prince of England. Peter had stood next to the grooms as they’d gotten married and he’d almost cried at how beautiful it all was.
After that, it had been the reception, which was essentially the most expensive party Peter had ever attended—and he’d been to an awful lot of parties. Royal parties were something else. Besides, the Queen was in attendance, so it was bound to be a wild time.
Tony had freaked out about the fact that Peter was close with the Queen, at first, finding it extremely weird that Peter owned a room in Buckingham Palace, but had eventually settled down and had gotten used to it. Peter had been keeping them apart because of the whole feud about Tony making an inappropriate joke when he first met the Queen, but as the years had gone by, the pair had warmed to each other. Rather luckily, Lizzie had forgiven him for the joke and they’d become gossip buddies when they met up (it was rare, but it had happened before).
She’d chosen to wear a pink dress with a matching pink hat for the actual wedding ceremony, but had had an outfit change for the reception and had changed into a dress with polka dots (and a matching hat, of course, she wasn’t a heathen). Tony hadn’t been sat with her during the wedding ceremony because of his duty as father-of-the-groom but she’d immediately found him at the reception so they could shit-talk the guests they didn’t like.
Peter had been supposed to monitor them—Pepper was always concerned that Tony would manage to commit a serious offence and get arrested for treason—but he was in a whirlwind of chaos trying to ensure everyone was where they should be. Also, he kept getting interrupted whilst he was running around by strangers coming up to him and complimenting him on everything from his hair to his ability to make a bouquet.
Anyways, he finally got everyone sat in their places ready for dinner with a great deal of effort. His table was the main table—it had the grooms, Peter, Lizzie, Tony and a couple of other members of the Royal Family. Before dinner, of course, came the Best Man speech.
Peter’s best man speech for Timothy went something like this:
“The first time I met Timothy here, I knew him as Not Paul.”
There was a scattering of laughter from people who were in the know about the field trip incident. It had become a story they’d told many throughout the years, and it brought a smile to Timothy’s face as Peter said it. It was really nice to see the guy genuinely happy, sat holding Alexander’s hand.
Peter continued, “It was many moons ago when he was spying on Stark Industries, and I have to say, I never thought I’d end up at his wedding. Nor would I have thought it would be a royal wedding. But here we are. I’m proud to say that I consider him a friend, and he’s a truly intelligent and wonderful man who will definitely go far.”
And then of course he couldn’t forget Alexander.
“As for the other groom, well. I have had the pleasure of having his company several times over the last couple of years since the first time I visited the UK and I have to sat it manages to get better every time. He had one request when he asked me to write a speech for this event, and it was that I didn’t tell everyone about the events of the night we went out to a club in London and ended up trying to find a rubber duck that Alex had become attached to and subsequently somehow lost in the Thames.”
Another wave of laughter shot through the audience—some of it nervous laughter as they didn’t seem to know quite what to say about that. Peter’s favourite thing was trying to humanise the Royals—most people treated them as though they weren’t people, and Peter thought that was a shame. Alex was genuinely a normal guy, at the end of it.
“Of course, I have to uphold his wishes there, which is a terrible shame because it was a truly wonderful event which I will certainly never forget. But alas, you’ll have to ask him for details there.”
Alex had his head in his hands, and Timothy’s hand was gentle on the back of his neck. Peter sent Timothy a Tony-Stark-worthy smirk.
“So then, as I was brainstorming what I was going to say for the speech, I thought about telling you all about the time I went out for drinks with Timothy when he’d just started dating Alexander.”
Timothy’s eyes widened in horror and he started shaking his head. Peter shot him another grin, remembering the night vividly. Timothy was a very expressive, emotional person when he was drunk and Peter had heard lots of declarations about how pretty Alexander’s eyes were.
“The things he said—well, it was sweet, really. But I decided not to do that, either, because then I’d just embarrass him, and as he’s a Royal now, I feared I might be banned from this wonderful country for life. Which would be quite sad, because I quite like my room at the Palace.” Peter smiled at the Queen, nodded at her and Lizzie smirked back.
“In order to avoid that tragic fate, I decided to do what I do best when I have no idea what to do for something—which is make a PowerPoint. So, here, have a PowerPoint presentation about thee love story of these two handsome grooms.”
Peter waved at the projector screen as the PowerPoint started to appear, patting both Timothy and Alexander on the shoulders as he sat down and watched his handiwork unfold. He just made a presentation about their love story, complete with illustrations by Steve (the best artist Peter knew) and photos from throughout their relationship.
There were appropriate awws and claps as particularly emotional moments were shown, and Peter was satisfied that he’d done a good job as Best Man. Because he was a little shit, he had also snuck in a blurry picture of Alexander diving to find the rubber duck from the Thames, and also a shot of Timothy gesturing wildly to a picture of Alexander on his phone from the night he’d been waxing compliments about his boyfriend. But after that was over, and the appropriate glares from the husbands had been delivered, Peter was able to settle back and enjoy his food as it was served, settling easily into the conversation being had over the dinner table.
“Simply must have Peter come visit this summer,” Lizzie discussed, and Alexander was nodding profusely.
“Oh?” Tony commented casually, sipping at his coke-in-a-wine-glass-so-he-could-feel-distinguished. He was still alcohol-free.
Lizzie gestured to Peter offhandedly, “We built him a wing in Sandringham, you see, by popular vote, due to his part in this wedding.”
Of course they had.
Peter’s eyebrows raised just slightly and he watched as Tony’s hand clutched the glass slightly tighter in serious effort to not let his mouth fall open in shock.
“A—a wing?” Tony spluttered, unable to stop his voice from raising by about half an octave. He was adjusted to the Royals loving Peter, sure, but there were limits to it.
“Naturally,” Alex smiled. “Our Best Man certainly deserves it after all his hard work.”
“It’s nothing,” Peter waved it off. “Really. Only a couple of flower arrangements.”
Flower arrangements that had looked downright criminal before Peter had gotten his hands on them. Seriously, who was the Royal florist? Peter was appalled.
“And weeks of hard work and planning to make it all happen,” Timothy muttered under his breath.
“It’d be a pleasure to join you again in the summer,” Peter replied to the request graciously, glancing slightly at Tony who had gone silent. He kind of thought Tony was jealous, his mind likely spiralling with ideas about building Peter a wing as well just to make sure they matched. It wasn’t like Tony had you know, given him a company or anything. Two companies, technically, if they were counting Netflix as well as Stark Industries.
Tony didn’t need to give him a wing to show Peter his love—Peter hoped he knew that. He made a mental note to ensure that the man didn’t try to build him an actual castle or something later.
“Shame about your dad,” Alex mumbled to Timothy, and his new husband’s face tightened just slightly. It was a sore subject, and that seemed to snap Tony back into action.
“It’s not a shame,” Tony put down his glass, his voice laced with an edge of coolness. “I assure you, it’s much more pleasant without Justin Hammer present.”
Peter privately thought Tony was correct. Justin Hammer was just…well, he was annoying, to say the least. His flashy smiles and remarks would not have been appreciated at a wedding. Besides, he was a shit father.
“Well,” Timothy picked up his own glass and took a long, slow sip. “I’ll drink to that.”
Peter grinned and they did a collective cheers to the fact that Justin Hammer wasn’t present at the wedding. After that, it devolved into chaos, pretty much. The classic concept of a first dance to some sappy classical song had been utterly smashed to pieces as Alexander and Timothy did a beautiful duet to U Can’t Touch This by MC Hammer.
And why, pray tell, did they do a dance to U Can’t Touch This? by MC Hammer?
Well, of course, for the lyric halfway into the song that said, “Stop, Hammer Time” enabling Timothy to seize his time and do a solo breakdancing performance. It was the most astonishing thing Peter had ever seen in his entire life and Tony seemed to equally enjoy it.
Overall, the wedding was easily the most dramatic event Peter had ever been to. The sheer scale of it had been incredible, beyond anything he’d ever experienced or organised before. He was so very glad it had gone well, and that Tony had managed to fit in with the crowd. Peter hadn’t been monitoring Tony throughout the night but given that he’d managed to do a karaoke duet with Lizzie to (and he shits you not) Dancing Queen by Abba halfway through the night, he presumed Tony had also had a good night.
Peter and Tony decided to make a move and as they made their goodbyes, Timothy turned to talk to Tony, and, as he did so shot Peter a smirk. A chill was sent down Peter’s spine. Oh god oh fuck Timothy had decided to get him back because Peter mentioned the drinking incident—and the rubber duck incident. Shit, shit, shit.
Peter was in the middle of saying goodbye to one of the royal associates and was unable to tear himself away from it in order to prevent Timothy from traumatising Tony forever. Which was how it happened:
“Tell Peter to call me after,” Timothy winked at Tony, and shot a wistful glance at Peter, checking him out from head to toe. Tony’s face instantly paled as he stared, mouth gaping, between Timothy’s longing face and Peter’s horrified one. “I’ll always have time for him, even though I’m married now.”
Alexander was clearly in on it as well, because as Timothy moved on from Tony—who seemed to be stood in shock, unable to do anything other than blink, his mouth still wide open—the prince encroached in on the empty space his husband had left behind. “Your son is always welcome in my bed, just let me know when so I can get rid of the hubby for the night.”
Tony spluttered at that, eyes widening in horror. Peter could imagine exactly what his dad was thinking. Oh god, my son’s secretly sleeping with both of these guys—these married men, one of whom is a prince—he’s a philanderer! A male concubine, a paramour! Other synonyms for that!
Damn his fucking friends for making his dad think Peter was sleeping with both of the grooms on the downlow—he never should have mentioned the rubber duck incident, even in passing. It wasn’t worth it, not to see Tony’s face like that.
Peter was finally able to excuse himself from his awkward goodbye to the associate and made his way over to Tony quickly, a pleading look on his face as he met his father. “Dad, I promise I’m not a homewrecker, I promise.”
Alexander had his arm wrapped around Timothy’s waist and they were both sending him identical smirks of joy that indicated revenge had been achieved.
“Let’s….let’s just go, Pete,” Tony replied, sounding dazed and not quite making eye contact with him. Peter wanted to put his head in his hands and groan, but he settled for shooting a glare he normally reserved for military officials at the two grooms he’d grown to love. They grinned back, both waving with their hands where the newly-adorned wedding rings glinted in the light.
“Don’t forget to come back in the summer!” Lizzie yelled at them as they left, pushing open the door and exiting into the cold air of a British night. “We have to unveil the new wing!”
Yeah. Royal weddings. Definitely not something to miss out on.