Chapter Text
“Mr. Stark!” Peter called through the thick glass of the Tower’s lab, tapping rhythmically with one hand and clinging to the pane with the other. He tugged off his mask, letting the wind wisp through his slightly sweat-damp curls. Only a few moments ago, he was out on patrol but after stopping a bank robbery and keeping a train from careening off its tracks, the city had gone mostly silent. On days like this, he liked to visit his mentor. “Mr. Stark, are you there?” He started knocking again. “Hey! Mr. Stark!” Without warning, the glass shifted, slowly rotating inward and locking into place with a resonating click! Inside, Tony was hunched over his desk, tinkering with the Iron Man helmet. “Mr. Stark!” Peter joyously called out once again, pleased to be let inside as he climbed across the ceiling and lowered himself upside-down by a rope of web fluid. “Mr. Stark-”
Tony glanced up, face-to-face with the spider kid’s inverted visage. “Getting someone to scream my name that many times usually requires a bit more effort.”
Peter laughed as he flipped sideways off of the web, landing gracefully in the lab stool across from his mentor. “Sorry, sorry, I actually came here because I have a question for you.”
“Okay,” Tony raised a single brow, putting his screwdriver down and relegating his full attention to the kid. “Shoot.”
“So today,” Peter began, hands already gesturing wildly as he spoke. “There was this huge train – very fast, extremely heavy, tons of people on it—“
“Sounds like most trains,” Tony jested.
“—exactly! But this train malfunctioned. Controls? Useless. People? In danger. Train? It was flying off the rails, literally and figuratively.”
“This is some riveting narration, kid.”
“Thanks, I try,” Peter quipped, smiling when Tony smiled. “Anyway, I tried using my web fluid to slow down the train, which it should and kind of did, but the strands started snapping and I needed to use like half a cartridge to stop one train,” He stressed his point, dramatically holding up his index finger. “What if more trains need stopping? What if the sky opens up and aliens rain down from the great beyond on the same day? What if a cat is stuck in a tree, Mr. Stark? I’ll be out of web fluid before I know it!”
Tony snorted, reaching for his neglected screwdriver and easing back into his tinkering. “And I suppose you have a solution to this problem you’ve fabricated.”
“That’s rich coming from the king of fabricating problems,” Peter teased, leaning forward to observe his mentor’s skilled hands as they worked. “Exactly how many suits have you built now? Hundred? Thousand? Ten thousand? Stop me when I get near the right significant figures.”
“Watch it, kid,” Tony retorted, the subtle threat hidden just beyond his grin.
Peter gave a grin of his own, causally reaching inside the toolbox on the desk and handing Tony a wireless soldering iron, knowing from his observations that his mentor would need that next. “I need you to help me perfect the web fluid formula.”
“Perfect it?” Tony asked, taking the soldering iron with an impressed expression. “Alright, exactly how much perfecting does it need? It can stop a train. I’ve seen you pin Barnes and Capsicle with the stuff… hm , what about you? Can it stop you?”
Peter paused, brow furrowing, “No, I don’t think so.”
“Well,” Tony nodded as he concluded his soldering. “Then let’s get to work.”
*~*~*
“What’s wrong, kid?” Tony asked, raising his eyebrow but not bothering to glance in Peter’s direction. Instead, he kept his focus on the beaker, carefully mixing the viscous fluid so that it didn’t expand.
“I can’t move,” Peter whispered, more desperately than Tony would have imagined but he chalked it up to a general surprise. After all, this was the first iteration of their test fluid that actually managed to restrain him. “Mr. Stark…” The kid whined this time – definitely not just surprise. “ I can’t move. ”
“Well, that was the desired outcome,” Tony pointed out as he carefully condensed the fluid into a cartridge, focusing on keeping his movements steady so the lab wasn’t coated with webbing.
“No, Mr. Stark, I- this is… a lot …I’m- I can’t -” Peter was squirming, the webbing locked around his arms and torso shaking with each jerked motion. “Dissolve it, please.”
“Sure, kid, but why—” Tony sealed the cartridge and grabbed the solvent off the desk, finally giving Peter his attention. “–Oh.” He hummed, his gaze traveling from Peter’s wet eyes to his struggling torso to his svelte waist. “Are we talking about this?” He asked as he sprayed the solvent against the binding webs. “Or is this one of those things we ignore?”
Peter responded instantly with some frantic amalgamation of yes and no before settling for a defeated, “I don’t know.” His face started turning red, or redder, considering the tomato hue flushing his cheeks. “This doesn’t usually happen. I don’t know why I’m- ugh , I’m sorry, I- I should go.” He tucked his head in shame, covering his tenting groin with one hand and hiding his shameful expression with the other.
“Hold on, kid,” Tony reached out, gently grabbing Peter’s arm. “You don’t have to be sorry for popping a boner at eighteen,” He explained, attempting to be as comforting as possible. “It’s natural and all that.”
Peter shook his head, shyly lifting his blushing face. “It’s not that…I think I- what I mean is that I- with the web fluid being stronger than me, it’s weird…it makes me feel weird .”
“So you discovered your kink in an awkward situation?” Tony casually asked. “Happens to the best of us.”
“M-My kink ?” Peter’s eyes went wide. “Mr. Stark, I don’t… do I… have a kink?”
“Getting tied up is a common one,” Tony let his mouth run, probably more than he should have. “Power imbalance, submission, sensory deprivation. There’s a world of things you don’t know about, kid. I would say use the internet but the very responsible adult-thing to say would be to talk to someone about it.”
Peter nodded, flashing his mentor vulnerable eyes, “Can I talk to you?”
“No,” Tony immediately answered, stepping back towards the work desk to finish loading the cartridges. “I meant a counselor or something. I’m disqualified because I’m your-”
“Mentor?” Peter interrupted. “You’re always teaching me stuff so why not this?”
“And what exactly do you expect me to do?” Tony stressed. “In case you weren’t following, I’m not the best person to explain sex, kid. Ask your aunt, ask your friends – hell, ask Cap, he did those PSAs back in the day – just not me.”
“Maybe you can tie me up again,” Peter offered. “O-Or I could do it myself! I just need someone to let me out that won’t judge me or…I don’t know. Am I being weird? It’s just because I would break through normal ropes. Oh god, I am being weird, aren’t I? Fuck, something’s wrong with me. I’m sick, I- I’m asking you to-” Peter gave a horrified expression as he dropped his face into his hand. “Oh my god, I’m sorry, I-”
“Alright, alright, stop with the teenage insecurities. You’re going to give me a headache.” Tony capped off another cartridge before turning towards Peter. “I’ll help web you up but this is a strictly clothes on, lights on, solely educational kind of ordeal, understand?”
Peter lifted his face, brandishing a hopeful grin so sweet that Tony thought it should be illegal. “Yes, Mr. Stark!”
“Then come to the lab tomorrow after school. We’ll do it then.”
*~*~*
“Is this too tight?” Tony asked as he checked the webs at Peter’s wrists, watching the subtle struggling movements the kid made as he tested the binds.
“No, but I can’t move,” Peter concluded, his face already burning with a soft red hue. “Like before…”
“That’s good,” Tony remarked, his expression twitching as he held back a smirk. He didn’t want to admit it but the kid looked good like this; bound, flushed, a bit frantic, so clearly horny, and already sporting an erection. “I adjusted the formula a bit more so it sticks to hard surfaces better. Though it’s still nearly the same. Your original formula was genius, Pete.”
“Mr. Stark,” Peter gasped, his gaze bouncing between his mentor’s eyes and the floor. “That’s…” He paused, biting his lip and breathing out a short whine.
“What?” Tony squinted, curiously staring at the kid’s face. “You felt good?” He guessed, the tone of his voice unintentionally revealing his amusement. “From what? The compliment?” He smiled, “I probably should’ve predicted a praise thing with you.”
“A praise thing?” Peter’s voice cracked, eyes flickering upward and body squirming in the mere millimeters of give in the binds. “W-What do you mean?”
“It’s just another kink,” Tony explained. “You get off on being praised, complimented, told you’re a good boy, among other things.”
“Other things? Fuck- ” Peter let out a groan that turned high-pitched when he glanced down, glaring at the zipper on his jeans like it was hurting him. “Can you tell me, Mr. Stark?”
“Tell you?” Tony repeated, uncertain about the trajectory of this situation but deciding against his better judgment. “Sure, kid, it can sometimes just be pet names like honey, sweetheart, princess or prince – baby’s a popular one – baby girl, baby boy. You got options.”
“That’s nice,” The kid practically moaned. “Yeah, I might be like that, I don’t know…it’s weird. You’re not even calling me those things directly but my whole body feels hot, Mr. Stark. Is that normal?”
“Yeah, b-” Tony swallowed hard, mentally at war with himself for almost slipping up. “Yes, kid , perfectly normal. You’re not weird.” He let out a deep breath and stepped closer to check the binds once more. “Are you still okay? Still got all the feeling in your limbs? No tingling, right?”
“Just my c-” Peter paused, shaking his head. “Never mind.”
“Just what?” Tony’s brow furrowed, genuinely concerned. “I didn’t catch that. Does something hurt?”
“No, it’s just m-my…um,” Peter sighed, his expression falling shameful. “I can’t say it around you.”
“Say what around me?” Tony repeated, his mind already speculating on words the kid would be too embarrassed to say. “You’re tied up in my lab having a discussion about kinks but you’re still being shy?” He teased. “Say it or I’ll stop, Peter.”
“But Mr. Stark-!” Peter’s eyes went wide, frantically needy and almost desperate. “I-I don’t want you to stop,” His voice trembled. “I just- please don’t.”
Tony audibly tsk ed, stepping toward the lab desk and grabbing the can of solvent. “Hold still,” He ordered, his hand inches away, threatening to spray the webs.
“Wait!” Peter interrupted, letting out a low whine before finally admitting, “I was going to say that just my cock is tingling.” His words came out slow and embarrassed, maybe even more so than Tony thought they would be. “I’m really hard right now, Mr. Stark. I’ve never been like this. I feel strange and- you, you’re watching me and it’s making me feel good and that makes me feel dirty and like I’m a bad person.”
“You’re not a bad person, kid,” Tony eased, abandoning the solvent can against the table and dragging a lab stool closer to Peter, sitting only a couple of feet away. “You just have kinks and, like I said before, they’re normal. Everyone has something, whether it’s vanilla or—“ He gestured up and down Peter’s frame. “—not.”
“What kinks do you have?” Peter asked, curiosity gleaming in his eyes.
“Me?” Tony grinned, his mind flying through the plethora of sexual tendencies he enjoyed. “You want an honest answer?” He remarked, instantly regretting how into this he had become. He shook his head, “Never mind.”
“No fair!” Peter whined. “You made me talk but you get to be quiet?”
“As the one with the web solvent, I make the rules,” Tony quipped but knew deep down he was tip-toeing on a dangerous line.
“But Mr. Stark!” Peter defied, struggling in his binds and full of frustration. Maybe it wouldn’t hurt to take a single step over the line, Tony rationalized.
“My lab, my rules. So be a good boy and behave.” Tony kept his tone firm, dropping his grin for emphasis and reveling in the way it made the kid flinch.
“O-Okay,” Peter muttered over a shallow breath, nodding slowly and relaxing against the webs with red-tinted cheeks and obedient eyes. “Yes, Mr. Stark.”
Tony couldn’t fight off the smirk that worked its way onto his face. “Add subbing to the list.”
“What?”
“What do you think about the way I spoke to you?” Tony asked as he leaned forward, elbows connecting to knees, eyes catching a glimpse of a tiny wet spot just beside the kid’s zipper.
“I wasn’t paying attention to the exact way,” Peter lazily confessed, his hips shaking and his breaths getting heavier, looking like he was getting off against the fabric of his jeans.
And Tony watched intently as Peter desperately sought out any ounce of pleasure he could get from that barely-there friction. The kid was losing himself in it. Too horny for embarrassment, Tony guessed. The sight was mouth-watering and the sound, even more so. Those sporadic little breaths that ended on moans and whines. The overwhelmed expression keeping his brow tense as he squirmed. The cute way his peach lips would part and close in repetition or the way his soft curls clung to his forehead. It was all so tantalizing that Tony couldn’t stop himself from pushing beyond that line.
“You come in here, asking me to tie you up, near begging,” Tony stood up, approaching Peter slow and methodically. “And you’re not even paying attention to me?” He accused, grabbing the underside of Peter’s chin and forcing his gaze upward. “Look at you, happily getting off on nothing but words and you’re this hard —“ He clutched Peter’s erection with his free hand, a gentle but firm grip that made the kid gasp and flinch. “—but you can’t even focus on the person that got you there? Where’s the gratitude, baby?”
Peter’s lips parted and, at first, it was for words but the sounds that came out were strained and pleasured. All heady moans and breathy whines as his eyes glassed over and his hips jumped forward and, suddenly, that tiny wet spot on the front of his jeans was not so tiny. “Oh no,” Peter muttered with a panicky post-orgasmic clarity, and the disbelief and humiliation in his tone were clear as day. “I’m- I just- Mr. Stark, I’m sorry, I-”
Tony took a step back, smugly appreciating his handiwork, “Did you just-?”
“It’s my senses!” Peter interrupted, hectically attempting to explain himself. “My nerves sometimes have a mind of their own! I didn’t mean to-!”
“Did you just come in your jeans, Peter Parker?” Tony grinned.
“I-” Peter struggled on his words. “Mr. Stark, I-I’m sorry, I didn’t mean- It was just- I-”
“The next word out of your mouth better be an answer to my question.”
“Yes,” Peter whispered, ducking his head in shame. “Yes, I just… came… in my jeans.”
“Maybe I should be impressed with myself then?” Tony stepped forward, tenderly running his fingers through the kid’s curls. “Practically no effort and you’re making a mess.” He pressed a kiss to the top of Peter’s head. “How cute.”
“Um…Mr. Stark?” Peter glanced up with demure eyes.
“Yeah, kid?”
“I think the web fluid still needs work. Can I come back tomorrow to do more tests?”