
Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/6876961.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      The_Avengers_(Marvel_Movies)
  Relationship:
      Peter_Parker/Tony_Stark
  Character:
      Tony_Stark, Peter_Parker
  Additional Tags:
      yup_still_going_to_hell, Sequel, peter_is_a_bab, Anal_Sex, Anal
      Fingering, Loss_of_Virginity
  Series:
      Part 3 of Mentoring
  Stats:
      Published: 2016-05-17 Words: 1382
****** next time ******
by WattStalf
Summary
     Sequel to firsts.
     He swore that there wouldn't actually be a next time.
Notes
     IT'S THE SEQUEL TO MY ORIGINAL IRONSPIDER FILTH AND IM STILL GOING TO
     HELL
See the end of the work for more notes
He swore that there wouldn't actually be a next time. Once the guilt had really
took hold of him, he swore that it wouldn't happen again, and he really
believed himself until "next time" became "this time", and he had Peter alone
again and was showing him how a real kiss worked. And his hands were in the
kid's hair and he was moaning and he wanted him so fucking badly, because even
though he had guilted himself nearly constantly since last time, he was still
so lonely.
Not to mention the fact that, yeah, there was something attractive about Peter,
no matter how creepy it made him feel to admit that. There was something really
attractive about the kid, and he was still just a kid, he had to keep reminding
himself that. The feeling was mutual, or at least Peter was naive enough to
think they were feeling the same thing, and, Christ almighty, Tony was the
absolute worst.
Pulling back from the kiss, he almost said something, but then he saw that damn
look on Peter's face, eyes lit up like Tony had hung the moon, cheeks flushed
like this was the best thing that had ever happened to him. And maybe he
thought it was, and maybe that should have been even more reason to tell him
that they should stop, but instead, all Tony said was, "Still sure about this?"
"Yeah," he said, "yeah, I'm good. I mean, if you're good, I'm good."
Tony was anything but good, but he forced a smirk and took him into another
kiss, wishing they had somewhere more comfortable to do this, at the very
least. He didn't want to risk this becoming obvious, so of course they had to
do this in his office, just like last time, and so he was slowly easing Peter
onto his desk, glad that he had at least cleaned it off in preparation.
He straightened, staring at the young man laying back, looking up at him,
nervous and excited and so fucking tempting. His hands nearly shook as he
removed Peter's pants, but he managed to keep himself steady, if only barely.
He'd really prepared for this, despite his hesitation, and had lubricant ready,
which he dipped his fingers into, scooping out a generous amount.
The first finger didn't take that much effort, but the second took a little
work and Peter winced a few times. Tony tried to be a little gentler, and when
he'd finally eased his second finger in completely, he let it rest for a moment
before he began to scissor the two, helping the young man to stretch in
preparation. He whimpered as Tony did this, but his sounds were not entirely
pained and so Tony did not stop, and eventually was able to fit a third finger.
He stayed like that for a while, letting him adjust to the new fullness, before
stroking inside him and flexing his fingers, causing Peter to moan over and
over again. It was such a delicious sound despite the fact that Tony knew it
should only sound wrong, simply because of how young even the sound was. All he
wanted was to be able to forget how wrong everything about this encounter was,
but he didn't let himself forget, knowing that he deserved every bit of guilt
that came with this pleasure.
Finally, he decided that it was now or ever, and slowly removed his fingers
before unfastening his pants and applying an even more generous amount of
lubricant to his cock. He lifted Peter's legs, resting them on his shoulders as
he got himself into position and the young man looked up at him with something
too much like adoration. Tony was torn between being touched that anyone would
look like him like that anymore and continuing to hate himself for taking
advantage of the poor kid.
And then he pushed it all to the side as he pushed himself in, slowly entering
Peter and hoping that he wasn't hurting the younger man. It was far from the
first time he had taken somebody's first time, even this way, though he
couldn't remember what the case was the last time he did this with another man.
He at least knew how to take it slow and try not to do any damage, but Peter
still had a pained expression on his face as Tony pressed himself in.
“Doing alright?” he asked. Peter opened his mouth, but when he tried to speak,
he only let out a few short breaths before nodding, rendered completely
speechless. “I'm gonna give you a minute to get used to this before I move, so
just let me know.”
Again, he nodded, taking a few deep breaths, and his face was so flushed that
it was honestly adorable. It was a few moments before Peter let out a shaky,
“I'm good now,” and that was all Tony needed to hear. It had honestly been
driving him a little bit crazy, having to hold still like that when Peter was
so hot and tight around him, but now that he had the go-ahead, he bucked his
hips into the young man, finding it increasingly more difficult to be gentle as
his own lust overtook him. He hadn't realized just how long it had been or how
much he had needed this.
Peter whined, and once again Tony hoped that he wasn't hurting him, but he
didn't slow down, past any point of self-control. His thrusts grew more and
more powerful, and he grunted, driven only toward release. He'd managed it on
his own a few times, just thinking about their last encounter, but it had never
been enough to satisfy him and had instead on fueled his need for this more,
pushing him to do the unthinkable and actually go through with it.
And now here he was, fucking Peter like it was going to solve any of his
problems, like it wasn't going to cause more problems for the both of them,
with Peter still looking at him like he was the more important man in the world
whenever he wasn't wincing, and he did seem to be adjusting at least. He whined
again, looking desperate, looking close, and Tony only had to reach forward and
take his cock in hand to have him wailing and biting his lip to stop anymore
noise. There wasn't supposed to be anyone else on this floor, but they couldn't
be too careful.
It took only a few swift jerks to get Peter off, all over his stomach, and Tony
realized too late that they hadn't taken his shirt off. But he'd worry about
that later, he'd find some excuse for why Peter had to borrow one of his, and
he kept driving himself into the kid, his breath coming shorter and shorter
until finally, at long, long last, he tipped over the edge and to say it would
be glorious would be a little too cliché, but he was a little too overwhelmed
to worry about those particulars.
It wouldn't be long before the weight of what he had just done really came
crashing down on him, but crushing guilt had become par for the course and he
really just wanted to enjoy himself right now, just for a little bit. Panting,
he pulled out of Peter and they made eye contact, the young man grinning up at
him, and Tony couldn't help but grin back.
The worst part of it all was that he cared; that he really, really cared about
this damn kid and helping him reach his potential and making him happy, and if
things had been different, if one of them hadn't been so young and the other
hadn't been such a failure, he might have even wanted what he knew Peter wanted
with him. But things were too complicated and Peter was too young and Tony was
a failure, and this entire encounter was just further proof of his failures,
and even so, he never wanted this moment to end.
Was there going to be a next time? He didn't know, but he knew that there
shouldn't be and yet he also knew that he looked forward to it as much as he
dreaded it.
 
End Notes
     WEEEEEEEEE SKY'S THE LIMIT WHEN YOU DON'T GIVE A SHIT
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o stifle the resulting scream.
Jon, emboldened, picks Robb up again and slams him down just as he thrusts
upward. Robb moans around his fist, rutting his cock against Jon's stomach, and
Jon moans, too, and both of them are gasping and moaning because it's hothothot
and good, so good, Robb is tight and Jon is powerful and there's so much
sensation and stimulation that neither of them last too long, spurting at the
same time, moans turning to swallowed screams and suppressed shouts.
"You feel so good," Jon pants in the aftermath. "I want to stay this way."
Robb collapses on top of him, just breathing and feeling Jon's chest rise and
fall. "Me, too."
"Yeah," Jon says.
"Yeah," Robb says. "I— hey, wait. Hey." He gets up.
"What?" Jon says.
"You tricked me." he pouts. "I wanted to be on top."
Jon laughs. "You were!"
"Oh, you knew what I meant."
"Well," Jon says, smiling mischievously, "It ended up being good, right?"
Robb rolls his eyes. "Yes," he admits. "But don't do that again next time."
*
"You're joining the Night's Watch?"
"Don't say it like that."
"Like what?"
"With such... disdain."
"I am disdainful! You're better than that!"
"Yeah?" Jon spits out. "Yeah? Who are you to say that? I'm just the bastard of
Winterfell, right? I've got no place here."
"Of course you do," Robb says, exasperated.
Jon shakes his head. "You say that, but you don't know what it's like. You've
never been in my position."
"Then tell me! What's it like, huh? Is it so bad that you have to be a coward
and run away to the Night's Watch?"
"Run away? Run away? Fuck you!" Jon shoves Robb roughly against the wall. "I
suppose you know what it is to be brave, then, sitting back in the castle, 
drinking wine and pretending to rule while the real Lord Stark is away!"
"Shut up!" Robb shoves Jon right back.
"Why? Why?" Jon pushes Robb back again, making his head bang painfully into the
wall behind him. He grabs Robb by the shoulders and shakes him."Why?" he
repeats.
"I never asked for this! Okay? I never asked to rule!"
"But you're going to do it anyways," Jon says scornfully.
"Because I know my place. Because I—"
"Your place? Ruling?" Jon grabs Robb by the collar of his shirt and brings him
close, right up to his face.  "Would the north really accept you as Lord of
Winterfell if they knew your place was on your back, taking a bastard's cock up
your arse?"
"Fuck you!" Robb yells, leaning forward to get out of Jon's grip, and one
moment he's reaching up to push him off and the next his hands are tangled in
Jon's hair and they're twisting, mouths colliding, ripping off each other's
clothes and stumbling blindly onto the bed.
"No," Jon says, breaking the kiss, "Fuck you, Stark, fuck you." He attacks
Robb's mouth with renewed fervor, sucking and biting in a way that he's never
done before that makes Robb's lips raw and red and his cock ache with need.
Jon breaks the kiss again and turns Robb over. Robb's on his hands and knees
now, and Jon is right behind him, thrusting his lubed fingers into him and
curling them so that Robb moans pitifully and has to brace one hand against the
wall for support.
"Put it in already, Snow," Robb rasps.
"Fuck, yes," he says, voice so deep and hungry that Robb trembles. He withdraws
his fingers and slams into Robb, viciously, savagely, brutally. Robb cries out
and arches his back and gods, his arms grow weak with the force of Jon's
thrusts. He drops both of them, clutching the bedsheets instead while Jon takes
him from behind. He's merciless, fucking Robb with fast and frantic thrusts,
holding him by the hips so tightly that Robb knows there will be bruises.
"Faster," he moans, and Jon growls.
He lets go of Robb's hips, hooks his arms under Robb's armpits, and lifts him
so they are level with one another.
"Yes," he says. "Gods, yes."
Jon lets go of Robb's arm, moving down to take his cock in his hand instead,
and Robb stifles a moan and braces his hand against the wall again, and Jon
leans over with him, mouth on his neck, and he bites, hard, leaving his mark on
Robb like a wolf would.
"What would the other lords say?" Jon says. "To see you like this— claimed—"
Robb makes a choking sound, halfway between a moan and a sob, but otherwise
doesn't say anything.
"What would Lord Stark say, to see his bastard— and his son, his noble,
honorable son— like this." He bites Robb's neck again, in the same spot. Robb
cries out, gasping back a scream and Jon's hand speeds up, jerking Robb's cock
at the same brutally fast pace that he's thrusting into him and Robb can't hold
back anymore. He screams as his orgasm is ripped from his body and his come
splatters the wall in front of him.
"Robb," Jon says, once the both of them have recovered from the white-hot haze
of their orgasms.
But Robb doesn't respond. He turns away, coldly, pulling on his clothes as fast
as humanly possible, and he just wants to get away, because this was a bad
idea, and so, very, very, wrong.
"Robb," Jon pleads again, but Robb has already shut the door. He doesn't want
to see Jon right now. He knows he can't avoid him for long. But he still dreads
the next time he'll have to.
*
The next time they see each other is two days later and that's completely on
accident. Robb had taken his meals separately, taken different routes to his
bedroom, and made sure to avoid any place that Jon usually was found in. It's
on one of his alternate routes that he's turning the corner and bumps right
into Jon.
For a second they just stare at each other until apologies come tumbling out.
"I'm sorry, I really—"
"No, I am. I said some—"
"Me, too, I know, I shouldn't have—"
"It's okay, I—"
"No, no, please, I just—"
And it's so stupid, so absurd that Robb has to laugh and Jon soon joins in, and
they're howling with laughter over this stupid, stupid fight and when they both
finally calm down Robb has tears in his eyes and he's not sure it's entirely
because of the laughter.
"Jon," Robb says.
"Yes?"
"Don't leave."
Jon's eyes widen in surprise at first, and then he smiles warmly. "That was it?
Was that why you were so angry?"
Robb rolls his eyes. "Of course."
Jon smiles even bigger and ducks his head, rubbing his hand along the back of
his neck."Honestly I... I didn't know you'd care that much."
"What? Why?" Robb furrows his eyebrows in confusion and concern.
Jon looks hesitant. "With father gone... you'd have a whole kingdom to rule,
you know? And you'd get married, eventually, and I... I'd have no place here
anymore."
"You'll always have a place here," Robb says comfortingly, touching his hand to
Jon's cheek. Jon looks up, smiling, and Robb presses his lips to Jon's lightly.
Jon kisses him back, sweetly and tenderly, so different from their savage
kisses a few days earlier.
And when he fucks Robb, it's sweet and tender, too, and Robb's orgasm isn't
ripped from his body this time— rather, it's teased out of him with gentle
strokes and warm kisses and soft, murmured nothings that Jon whispers in his
ear.
Robb is sure, then, that Jon has no surprises left. They've fucked drunk and
sober, roughly and sweetly, on beds and against walls.
Nothing, however, prepares Robb for the next time.
*
Jon blushes deeply when he asks.
"Really?" Robb says, shocked.
"Yeah," Jon says. "I want to know— I mean, because you enjoyed it so much— I
want to know how it feels."
Robb lets out an incredulous laugh and shakes his head. "I'd just about given
up hope, you know."
Jon grins. "So is that a yes?"
"Yes." Robb smiles.
It's different being on the giving end. Robb has a general idea, but it's a lot
different in practice. He only hopes Jon doesn't see how nervous he is, because
Jon already looks nervous as hell and Robb doesn't want him to lose his nerve
and back out. So he makes sure to be careful and calm in his movements.
Still, when his finger enters Jon for the first time, Jon is so tight that Robb
can barely work it in.
"Ow," Jon complains.
Robb frowns. "Relax," he says. "Just— let your muscles unclench. You're too
tense."
Jon bites his lip and looks like he's going to protest, but he eventually
manages to relax. He lets out a shuddering breath when Robb begins to move his
finger.
"I'm going to add another one now," he says, slicking up the next one. Jon
nods, though his eyes are closed and he looks to be concentrating very hard on
not tensing up.
Robb adds the second and Jon screws up his face, breathing becoming more
labored.
"Okay," Robb says. "We should stop. This isn't working."
"No!" Jon protests. "I mean. Just. I don't know what to do. How to relax."
Robb shakes his head. "Just let go. Don't think. Clear your mind."
"Help me," Jon says, so Robb kisses Jon until the both of them are so relaxed
that they melt together, a pile of limbs and fingers and two hard cocks. Robb
almost can't work up the energy to fuck Jon but eventually he does, and this
time, his fingers slide in much easier.
He looks back to Jon in askance, because he's still not sure if he's doing it
right, but Jon's eyes are closed and this time it doesn't seem to be in
concentration, but in pleasure. So Robb adds another finger, and this time he
curls them and Jon's eyes fly open.
"What was that?" he gasps.
"That was what makes it feel so good all the time," Robb says.
"Well, don't stop," Jon says, so Robb crooks his fingers again and he moans.
It's not long before Jon is open enough for Robb to oil up his cock and stick
it in. Jon is so, so tight and Robb has never felt anything quite like it.
"Yes," Jon hisses, and Robb echoes the sentiment with a moan of his own.
He starts slow, in deep thrusts at a slight angle that hit Jon in the right
spot and make him bite his hand to keep silent. When Jon finally moves to grip
his cock and pump it, Robb goes faster, setting his speed to match Jon's own
strokes. He knows how good it feels, and he feels how good it feels, when Jon
clenches and gods, it's so good, and tight, and hot, and Jon comes first and
Robb finally understands why it never took long for Jon to come after he did,
because he's clenching again and Robb can't bear the pressure— it's so hot— and
Jon's moaning turns to a roaring sound in his ears and he comes, hard, inside
of Jon.
Jon grabs Robb by his back and clutches him and together they breathe, just
lying there.
And oh, how Robb looks forward to the next time.
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