Work Text:
Halloween at MIT is actually one of the better parts of the semester. Peter, MJ, and Ned have a system. Firstly, they work ahead in their classes–a seemingly unimportant detail, but one that comes in very handy after wasting away an entire weekend on candy and booze. Secondly, they try and come up with their costume ideas. MJ says it pays off to blend in with the other Halloween party enthusiasts; dress up, and people are more willing to give you free food and alcohol. She has yet to be proven wrong. Thirdly, with said free alcohol, Ned and MJ try to ply Peter with so much liquor that his enzymes don’t stand a chance at metabolizing it all.
It's a ye olde tradition at this point, so when it hits the first weekend in October, MJ brings up the idea over a round of cups of noodles. “What about dressing up as characters that we share names with?”
Ned sits on the couch with his laptop balanced over one knee and a cup of noodles perched precariously on the other. “That..that could work. Hm…” Ned shifts his laptop around and immediately starts typing. “Ned…Famous Neds…”
“Well, while you’re looking into that, I was thinking I could go as Michael Jackson. You know, King of Pop.”
Both boys immediately stop what they’re doing and look up at her. Peter’s eyes narrow in suspicion., “You were planning this from the start, weren’t you?”
MJ doesn’t even bother looking up from stirring the fork in her cup. “Maybe I’m just a quick thinker.”
Neither Ned nor Peter look like they believe her.
“Oka-a-y, well. Anyways, Lord Eddard Stark, also lovingly referred to as ‘Ned’. What do we think?” Ned asks.
MJ brandishes her fork like it’s a sword and swings it in Ned’s direction. “I’ll never bend the knee to you.”
“Harsh, but I respect it.” Ned nods his head and then turns to ask, “Peter, what about you? Any ideas?”
Peter pauses from fiddling with his webshooters and looks up to the ceiling in thought. “I could do, like, Peter Pan, maybe?”
MJ shakes her head. “No offense, Parker, but green isn’t your color and you can’t pull off being a redhead.”
“Yeah, that’s…that’s fair, actually”.
Ned starts typing on his laptop and exclaims, “Oh, no, dude I got you.”
He turns the laptop screen to face Peter so he can see the Google images pop up. “What about Peter Rabbit? You could just get a blue vest and some bunny ears and call it good!”
Peter scrunches up his nose. “Peter Rabbit? You don’t think that’s, like, weird or anything? Would people even get it?”
MJ snorts, “Uh, yeah, I think the bunny ears would give it away, dork. Besides, you have the perfect fluffy hair for it. I’m with Ned; my vote is for Peter Rabbit.” She nods like the decision is final. And really, Peter doesn’t see any issues with it, so...
“Alright, yeah. That should be easy enough. I’ll just wear some khaki shorts and, uh, what should I wear under the blue vest?” He turns to Ned and MJ. “Maybe like a tan tank top?”
Ned stares at him for a moment and seems to think about what he’s going to say before he says it for once . “You know I love you, but I don’t love you like that, right?” He pauses. “With that said, I think I’d be doing the rest of the party goers a great disservice if I told you that you should be wearing anything underneath the vest.”
The reaction is instantaneous. Peter gets flustered and starts to turn a faint pink. “Y-You want me to go shirtless?” His wide eyes look from Ned to MJ, like he can’t believe his own friends could imagine the possibility of anybody wanting to see him shirtless.
MJ leans closer to Peter and grabs his hands. She looks him deep in the eyes and speaks in a voice that sounds like someone who’s lived for a very long time and carries all the wisdom in the world. “Peter. Sweetie. You’re shredded. Absolutely phenomenal body with an ass that doesn’t quit. 5 gold stars all around. 10 out of 10 billionaire sugar daddies would love to fu-”
“MJ!” Peter squawks, positively scandalized, his cheeks and ears flushing a deep red.
Ned can’t stop laughing. Shoves his laptop onto the seat next to him and rolls on his side absolutely howling.
MJ mercilessly continues with a smile that seems a touch too feral. “Ah. My bad, you’re right, the statistic is off. Let me correct myself. One out of one billionaire sugar daddies would love to-”
She doesn’t get a chance to finish because Peter completely flings himself over to her and covers her mouth with his hand.
“Okay, I think you’re done talking now! Goodnight, MJ!”
She rips one of his hands away, “TONY STARK LOVES TO FUCK PETE-”
Peter decides that he’s had enough, so he grabs a nearby pillow and shoves it onto her face. “Go to sleep. Go to sleep.”
Ned smiles at them as he sits back up and maneuvers his laptop back into position. “I think that only works in movies.”
Peter finally releases the pillow and MJ looks at him like a frazzled cat, strands of hair flying everywhere as she gives him the most faux outraged face he’s ever seen. “That was ATTEMPTED MURDER, MR. AVENGER”.
He leans back on his hands, gives her a lazy smile, and replies, “Yeah, well, turn me in then. I’ll just get my billionaire sugar daddy to bail me out.”
Ned sends a searching look his way. “As much as I love hearing how much influence you carry by having the world’s most powerful man wrapped around your finger, I really need to know I’ve done my civic duty, Peter.” Ned narrows his eyes and asks, “What are you wearing under the vest?”
Peter stays sitting on the floor but lets his eyes drift up to the ceiling and lets out a deep sigh. Completely resigned, he replies, “Nothing. I’m wearing nothing underneath the vest.”
MJ and Ned nod at each other happily.
The next few weeks go by in that wildly chaotic way that college students are oh so accustomed to. Peter lays on his bed while Facetiming Tony and tells him, “I was able to finish my latest thesis draft earlier this week. I think Dr. Osborn is going to like my new approach with the tissue engineering section.” He shifts his eyes to the side and bites his lip. “You don’t think it’s cheating if I already had Bruce read my notes, do you?”
Tony is in his workshop, wiping his hands on a rag. His forearms are covered in engine grease, and Peter can see the Audi R8 in the background. “Uh, I don’t think using the resources you have available to you would qualify as cheating, no. Plus, it’s your thesis, not something directly comparable to any other student, so no unfairness going on.” He pauses wiping and looks back up at Peter. “Why? Did someone say something to you? Did Osborn say something to you? That guy wishes he had the resources you do; don’t listen to him, Pete.”
Peter shakes his head and replies, “No, no, it’s nothing like that. Dr. Osborn has been nothing but nice to me.” He sits up and leans against his headboard. “I can’t help but feel as though you’re letting your grudge of Norman Osborn leak onto my professor. He’s a relative, Tony. And he’s really great–he’s been teaching me so much.”
At that, Tony gets a look on his face. Peter instantly watches him try and wipe it away, but it’s too late. He probes, “What? Why do you have that look on your face?”
Tony drops his head down. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He pretends to fiddle with a spare piston left on the table.
But Peter persists, “Yes, you do. You’re literally looking away from me so I won’t see it. What’s up?”
Tony looks down at his hands and starts wiping them again. “I remember when you thought I was the best teacher.”
Peter lets out a loud guffaw, terribly amused by Tony. “Are you serious right now? Are you actually jealous of my thesis advisor?”
Tony stubbornly won’t make eye contact and continues to use the rag on the rest of his arms. “I have no idea what you’re talking about. And I’m most certainly not making any kind of face.”
“To-o-ny,” Peter says, dragging his name out. “Don’t be ridiculous. You’re still my favorite teacher.” Peter leans forward into the camera and bats his eyes. “How could you not be when you give me the best practical lessons , Mr. Stark?”
Tony clucks his tongue and says, “God, you’re such a brat.” He puts down his rag and gives Peter his attention. “You’re not allowed to say those things to me when you’re away in Boston. I’m not a strong man, Peter. I may just pop over on the jet and come deliver a personal assignment.”
Peter gives an indulgent smile but says, “I’m afraid I have plans this weekend. Maybe next time though.”
“Oh yes, the infamous Ted and MJ Halloween weekend. Is your costume all set to go?”
“Almost. You know how I’m going as Peter Rabbit? I have everything I need, but the headband with the ears is too big and keeps falling off my head.”
“Hmm…can you remove the ears and attach them to something more fitting?”
“Not sure I have time to find something new, but I’ll make it work. I actually-”
Just then, FRIDAY chimes in from above. “Boss, Miss Potts is here.” And right on time, Peter sees Pepper burst through the doors in a wave of fashionable fury. As always, she looks immaculate in a form-fitting pantsuit, tall heels clacking on the floor. With each step she takes, Tony’s eyes grow more panicked. He reaches out a hand as if trying to physically keep her temper at bay. “Pepper, I can-”
Her eyes are piercing when she says, “I have been waiting for you to show up for the past 30 minutes, Tony. You promised me you would attend this meeting.”
Peter waves to her from where he’s positioned on Tony’s screen and sheepishly says, “Hi, Pepper. Sorry, I uh- I think it’s probably my fault that he’s late. I’ve been commandeering his time.”
“Nonsense, Peter.” Pepper turns to look at him, and her shoulders drop from where they’ve climbed up from yelling. “Tony is a fully grown, capable adult who should be able to remember his schedule.” She gives him a kind smile that puts Peter at ease and says, “It’s always great to see you. I hope we can catch up soon. I want to hear your thoughts on the Don't Worry, Darling drama.”
“Yeah, definitely. I’ll be home for Thanksgiving." Peter leans in conspiratorially. "We have MUCH to discuss regarding Olivia and Miss Flo.”
“Wonderful. I will see you then.” She turns back to Tony, and fury once again enters her eyes. “Well?”
Tony’s hands haven’t dropped from where he’s raised them in surrender. Essentially waving the white flag, he turns to Peter and gives him the ‘I’m going to pay for this’ smile. “Sweetheart, I’ll call you back later, okay?”
“Sure, no problem. Bye Pepper! I’ll talk to you later, Tony.”
FRIDAY ends the call and Peter is left thinking about his costume for the night. The party starts in little more than an hour, and he still needs to figure out the headband situation. It’s hardly a big deal but, well, the rabbit ears are essential to his costume and really, without them he’d just be some douche wearing an unbuttoned blue vest.
He rolls over on his bed and faces the TV. He’d left The Lord of the Rings playing in the background when he called Tony and just as he’s wondering what to do next, Gandalf appears on the screen in all of his “YOU SHALL NOT PASS” glory.
That…that could actually work. He grabs his phone and scrolls through his contacts list in search of one particular person.
It’s always so weird to call Dr. Strange, Peter thinks. He never knows if the man is doing his regular, normal (as normal as a wizard can be) duties at the Sanctum Sanctorum or if he’s going to catch him in the middle of a battle with some ancient warlock hellbent on destroying the world and all of its inhabitants.
Dr. Strange answers the phone, and before the older man can get in anything more than a perfunctory “Hello?”, Peter blurts out, “Do you know what cosplay is?”
Dear God, Peter. Real smooth. He mentally slaps himself. Listen, he didn’t have time to prepare a respectable, informative introduction to this, okay?
He hurries to complete his thought. “Sorry, that came out wrong. I actually, uh, have a Halloween party in an hour or so, and I’m going as Peter Rabbit. My friends and I–we, we’re doing costumes based on characters with our names this year, and I was wondering if you knew any spell or some kind of magic that could, like, give me temporary rabbit ears?”
There’s silence on the other end of the line and Peter can practically feel Dr. Strange considering his options. Apparently, Dr. Strange has been attempting to study the Orb of Agamotto to aid in his interdimensional research and last Peter heard, there hasn’t been any progress in weeks and Wong isn't due to be back at the Sanctum until the end of the month.
“You know what? I could use a break. Come on through, Mr. Parker.”
A bright whirly portal appears in Peter’s bedroom, and he sees Dr. Strange beckoning him in. When Peter steps through, he sees open books covering almost the entirety of the giant desk where Dr. Strange sits. The cloak of levitation is resting on the back of his chair, and Peter is always, always amazed to feel the energy of the Sanctum. He can practically feel the magic in the air, almost like the particles here are different from anywhere else outside.
“Sir, thank you so much for letting me come over. You see, for my Peter Rabbit costume, I have the blue vest and everything, but the headband with the ears doesn’t fit right and it’s too late to try and figure something else out-”
“And you want me to use my sorcery to give you a more realistic design.” Stephen steeples his hands on the desk. “Is that right?”
Peter is bashful as he looks back at him. He shyly admits, “I-um. Yes. Please.” He runs one hand through his hair, making it even fluffier than usual. “I just thought that, well, since you can do all this amazing magic, then maybe there’s also a spell for partial transformations?”
Stephen huffs out a tiny laugh. “I can’t say that I’ve done it before, Peter. Or that I’ve ever really thought about it.”
“No, yeah, that makes sense. I don’t imagine it’s a super common request.” Peter wrings his hands. “Have you seen that Harry Potter movie called the Chamber of Secrets?”
Stephen gives him a wry smile. “You’re referring to when Hermione accidentally turns herself into a cat.”
Peter throws his hands in the air and exclaims, “YES! Exactly! Just, you know, more controlled and, like, maybe less of the facial features and more just the ears?”
Stephen stands up from his desk, and the cloak settles instantly around his shoulders. Floating in a room with no breeze, Peter thinks. That’s wicked.
“Come with me, Mr. Parker. I believe I heard a story once where Wong made the grave mistake of taking a bet with a member of Ta Lo. I’m told he had to live as a Dijiang for a few days. Let’s see if we can make a few adjustments to that spell.”
Peter follows behind with a skip in his step and laughs. “Oh man. Thank you so much, Dr. Strange, sir.” He pauses to vocalize a hurried thought. “Wait, so, like, if you’re going to show me how to use a spell to transform myself AND provide the necessary materials…does that make you my Snape?”
Stephen falters in his steps. “That…” He turns to look at Peter abruptly. “I’m not answering that.”
It’s a half hour later and Peter’s going to be late, but he can hardly bring himself to care, because he has real, ACTUAL bunny ears on top of his head. They’re a brown that matches his own locks, and they’re fuzzy and soft to the touch. He admires them in a mirror with Dr. Strange watching him from behind. “This is better than I could have ever imagined, sir. Truly, it’s incredible.”
He does a half-turn and looks back at his tailbone where a tuft of fuzz peeks out from the top of his jeans. Peter’s smile goes a little wobbly, but no less enthused. “Not sure the bunny tail was completely necessary, but I’m sure MJ could cut a small hole into my pants.”
Stephen snorts indelicately and replies, “Hm…yeah. Can’t say I expected that to happen but you never know the full extent of what the spells will bring. I trust this is okay?”
“Oh, this is better than okay, sir. This is perfect. Thank you so much, I really-”
Peter’s phone begins to ring and it’s MJ, no doubt about to ask him for his ETA. As he answers, Stephen opens a portal for him to go back to this apartment and gives a warning. “Now, Peter, it’s important for you to know that the spell will wear off in tw-” Peter already has one ear completely absorbed by MJ asking him where the hell he is and you better not mess up the meeting time, Parker. “-four hours.”
“Yeah, no worries! That’s plenty of time. Thank you so much again, sir!” Peter calls gratefully as he hurries through the portal. God, he can already imagine the reactions MJ and Ned are going to have when they see his long fluffy ears and poofy little tail.
The Halloween party goes swimmingly. All of their costumes are a huge hit, and Peter ends up turning down more than a handful of men and women throughout the night. He has his little spiel on a loop– yes, he is in a relationship and yes, he’s more than happy. But thank you very much, that’s very kind, and no, he hasn’t started studying for thermodynamics yet, but he finished the pset so he’s feeling pretty good about it.
Ned loses his sword, Peter loses 2 of his vest buttons, and MJ loses her hat before the night is over, but the trio wind up back at Ned’s place safe and sound in the early hours of the morning. They’re sprawled around the living room under heaps of blankets. Empty bottles of liquor that were purloined given to them and a shit ton of empty candy wrappers and popcorn bags litter the coffee table. There’s a Harry Potter movie playing on the TV, and none of them has the energy to change out of their costumes before crashing out among the pillows.
They don’t wake up until the early afternoon, and even then, it’s only because MJ throws pillows at Peter and Ned and says that she wants coffee and food because no, Halloween-themed cocktails and candy are not actual sustenance. And yes, she is capable of being crankier than she already is, so someone needs to move.
Peter lets out a big yawn as his curly head pops up from his mountain of blankets. “Yeah, yep, got it. I’m on it.” He climbs out of his heap and runs a hand through his hair as he walks to the coffee maker. “Not to brag, but man, this no-hangover thing is really gr-” There’s a pause, and just as MJ turns to look at him to see why the hell he stopped talking, Peter screams at the top of his lungs. “Holy shit! I still have ears!”
Ned pokes his head up at Peter’s yell. “Wait, weren’t they still on you last night?” He swings his feet over the couch and goes over to Peter. “Oh yeah, they’re still there. Huh. That’s weird.” Ned proceeds to yank on the bunny ears as if physical force is the way to go.
Peter raises a hand to rub at the spot where Ned tugged. “Well, yeah, he said they could last around 4 hours, but it was a new spell so I figured the time estimation was probably off a bit. But…now it’s been…” His eyes go wide as he exclaims, “It’s been, like, 15 hours?! Oh god…this is… not good.”
He leans back against the kitchen counter and puts his head into his hands. “I have class on Monday! What am I supposed to do if they don’t go away by then?”
MJ walks over to them, wearing her blanket like a cape. “Calm down, Parker. It’s Saturday afternoon. Can’t you call Dumbledore and see if he can change you back?”
“Yeah, no, yeah, I can-I can definitely do that. Okay, um, I’m-here…” Peter starts the coffee machine and lets it whir to life. “The coffee is started, but I’m going to head back to my place. I’ll see you guys later, bye!”
The front door bangs closed as Peter rushes out of the apartment. Ned turns to MJ. “Do you think we should’ve told him he’s still only wearing the vest?”
MJ walks around the kitchen island and grabs a mug from the cupboard. “Nah, he’ll figure it out.”
You’ve reached the voicemail of Dr. Stephen Strange. If you’re hearing this, then please leave a message and don’t call back. I’ll call you if necessary. Goodbye.
Peter stares blankly at his phone. He’s back at his apartment and has been trying to text and call Dr. Strange for nearly 30 minutes. When that doesn’t work, he moves on to Wong. No matter how many “URGENT” messages he sends, he doesn’t get a response. He still hasn’t changed out of his costume and is starting to feel a little stale, but what in the world does that matter because he’s still a rabbit.
Class is on Monday, and not just any class–it’s Polymer Science Lab, and that room is always sweltering warm. There’s absolutely no way he’ll be able to hide his ears and tail. Everyone’s going to see him and wonder why he has them, and then they might start asking questions. “Oh, how did you get those real ears and tail, Peter?”, “Do you know Dr. Strange personally, Peter?”, “Did you meet him through your Stark internship, Peter?”, “Are you Spider-Man, Peter?”
No, no, this—he’s not out of options. There’s one other person that he knows at the Sanctum. Brigitta. He can call Brigitta, and she can reverse the spell, or she’ll be able to contact Dr. Strange. It’ll be fine.
“I’m really sorry, Peter. I have no idea what spell he used or how to even begin looking into how to reverse something like this.”
He can’t say he’s entirely surprised, but it feels like a giant let down. “Yeah, no, it’s okay. I’m really sorry to bother you out of the blue like this. I-I’ll figure something out.”
Her voice takes on a gentle quality, and Peter can tell she’s trying to be soothing, even if it’s not quite working. “Have you tried any of the other Avengers? Maybe Banner or Stark can help?”
Tony. Of course. He needs Tony.
He’s not out of options. Not yet. “I’m sorry to bother you even more but do you think…can you portal me to the Stark Tower?”
She gives a small but comforting smile. “Sure, Peter.”
Tony’s leaning over his workbench, making adjustments to new prosthetics for Rhodey, when he hears FRIDAY. “Boss, Peter is here.”
He’s startled enough that the screwdriver slips from this hand. “I-what? Peter’s here?” He barely has enough time to face the doors before Peter barrels in.
“Tony!” Peter’s eyes are wide, and his voice has taken on the shaky quality that it sometimes gets when he’s overwhelmed but trying not to show it.
“Pete? What’s wrong? Are you okay?” He immediately reaches out, but Peter is already there, winding his arms around Tony and tucking his head against his shoulder. Tony wraps his arms around him.
“Pete-” Tony starts, but then he notices something soft underneath his chin, something that very much feels and looks like… “Are you still wearing your costume?”
Peter shakes his head, his face still buried in Tony’s shoulder.
“Baby, wha-”
Finally, Peter pulls back but keeps his eyes trained on the floor. “S’not just my costume.”
Tony can clearly see this is not the headband Peter showed him when they chatted not so long ago. These ears are real, and they’re attached to his head. Why does Peter have bunny ears growing out of his head? Curious, Tony reaches out and pulls on one fluffy ear.
“Ah!” Peter makes a squealing noise as he jumps back. His hands go up to rub the soft ears on his head as he looks at Tony with what seems like betrayal shining in his eyes. That’s when Tony gets a better look at Peter.
Peter in his unbuttoned, open blue vest, wearing nothing underneath, putting all of that biteable skin on display. Tony’s eyes drag down the rest of him and then do a slow sweep back up, finally resting on what has got to be the reason Peter came here in such a hurry.
“How-” He takes a second to clear his throat. Pull yourself together. “How did this happen exactly?”
“Remember how I said that my ears didn’t fit and I didn’t have a whole lot of time before the party?”
Tony hums in agreement as he pulls Peter’s head closer for inspection.
“Well, I thought about Dr. Strange and how he can do all sorts of things, ya know, with his magic? So I called him and he, like, shockingly was all for it-” His words start coming out faster “-so he performed a spell, like in Cinderella, and they’re supposed to have disappeared by now, but they haven’t! They’re still here, attached to my head, and I have class on Monday!” He nervously peeks up at Tony. “Does that make sense?”
Tony nods. “Yeah, I think I’m getting the picture here. You’re saying the wizard pretended to be your fairy godmother for a night, but instead of the clock striking midnight, you’re forever stuck at the ball. And your evil stepmother waiting for you back at home is your class on Monday.”
“Yes.”
And Peter is so heartbreakingly distraught that Tony obviously has no choice but to try and figure this out to help his boy.
His hands begin to rub at Peter’s newly acquired features, and a scientific curiosity immediately takes hold. “I’ll give the wizard this, it is fascinating. Are there receptors? Can you feel when I touch you like this?”
Peter tilts his head forward to hide his growing blush. He hadn’t realized how sensitive they were until Tony started petting them. “Y-Yeah, I can uh-I can feel you.”
Tony uses one hand to gently press Peter’s forehead closer; with the other, he grips onto an ear and slides his hand upwards from root to tip. Peter jerks forward, knees knocking into Tony’s.
Peter’s eyes shut tightly and a muffled moan breaks through from where he’s biting his bottom lip.
“Oh, is that- are you okay? The ears are twitching. Are you voluntarily moving them?”
“N-no, that’s not on p-purpose.” And this isn’t fair, because Peter is seconds away from making a sound he’s sure has only been heard in the most explicit of porn, and then Tony will know, and–God, he’s so embarrassed that he can feel his cheeks burn.
FRIDAY chimes in right on time. “Boss, perhaps a DNA sample could elucidate these matters.”
Peter makes a silent promise to himself to give FRIDAY a whole year’s worth of upgrades.
They start with the basics. Tony extracts a blood sample from Peter and texts Bruce to let him know that he’ll be receiving some data that needs to be checked out ASAP.
As they wait for the sequencing results and Bruce’s interpretation of them, Peter hops on top of the metal table. There’s not much that can be done until they have more data and ultimately see if the spell had any internal effects. If there’s no change to his genomic code, par the spider influence, then the spell really did only give him external features, and that might mean nothing can be done in the lab. But if his DNA is altered, then this might turn into a real problem. What the hell would a spider/rabbit mutant even be able to do?
It's not until he's deep in his musings when FRIDAY interrupts. “Boss, the sample and analysis are ready.”
At this point, all Peter can do is look at the results and use them to determine a new path forward. Tony walks over and sits down on the stool. “Alright, baby girl, let’s see ‘em.”
Peter needs to know the results. He needs to see them, needs to read what the analysis says with his own eyes, but god, he can’t bring himself to look. So instead, he keeps his head down and focuses on the small chocolate stain on his khaki shorts. This is insane, just absolutely absurd–how could this happen to him again?
There’s a pounding in Peter’s ears, and he can’t believe that he’s going to have to have another conversation with May that starts with him saying, “Oh, hey, so this crazy thing happened, and now I’m not entirely human…”–only now he’d have to add “or spider.”
“Do you want the good news or the slightly bad news first?” Tony wheels around on his stool to face the table Peter is sitting on. His face reveals nothing as he waits for Peter’s answer.
“Bad, obviously.” Does anyone actually ever want to hear the good news first? Sounds too much like setting yourself up for disappointment. MJ wouldn’t approve.
“Your DNA hasn’t been altered. You’re still…well, I was going to say human, but we both know that’s not entirely true.”
“Okay, so no genetic modification, which is good, but then that means…”
“And that brings us to the slightly bad news.” Tony leans forward and places his elbows on his knees, pressing his fingers together. “If it’s not internal, then our problem is less scientific and more voodoo magic.”
Peter blows out a large breath. “So, we have to wait for Dr. Strange then.”
Tony simply nods his head in agreement.
“And there’s nothing else we can try? Do we know any other sorcerers?” Peter’s trying not to sound upset, but it’s written plain as day all over his face. The idea of having to go to class and try to hide life-size bunny ears is humiliating.
“Aw, sweetheart. Come here, we’ll figure it out.” Tony pats his knees and Peter clambers over to him and straddles his lap. He winds his arms around Tony’s shoulders and rests his head in the crook of his neck. So obedient.
Tony runs his fingers through Peter’s curls and scratches his scalp with his nails. Peter all but purrs as Tony works his hands over the bunny ears, rubbing them with rough hands. He slides his hands further along down Peter’s back and he’s making way to grab that glorious ass when he stops abruptly. How had he-
He grabs Peter’s thighs and yanks him closer so they’re groin to groin. Tony looks down and how in the hell did he miss this?
His voice is strangled because he’s not a strong man and there’s no way this is real because, “Peter, honey, do you-” he clears his throat, “-do you also have a bunny tail?”
Tony doesn’t get a verbal answer, but he does hear Peter sniffle and nod his head from where it’s still tucked into his neck. His baby, his precious boy, his own little bunny.
One hand stays where it’s situated near Peter’s tail and the other drifts back up towards his ears and caresses one between his fingers. He can feel Peter give a full body shiver and oh. Peter wasn’t shaking in distress earlier when Tony was examining him, he was trying not to react. These ears and tail of his are clearly sensitive and Tony is a bad, bad man because all he wants to do is exploit the hell out of this.
This shouldn’t excite him as much as it does, but Tony has never been one to look a gift horse in its mouth. Maybe what Peter needs isn’t to think about the negatives of the current situation but to think of all the naughty positives.
Tony grabs a fistful of tail in one hand and tugs harshly on an ear with the other. Peter’s response is instantaneous as he whines and shifts his crotch to rub against Tony’s.
His face is beginning to flush that delicious shade of pink that Tony adores when he whimpers, “They’re, ah-” and when he pulls back to look at Tony his eyes are half lidded. “- really sensitive.”
“Baby, you can’t make a face like that.” Tony continues stroking the small fluff on Peter’s back. “I won’t be able to hold back. I might just bend you over the desk and take what I want.”
Peter’s flush spreads down his chest. His cheeks run hotter, Tony can tell because the soft pink hue turns more red, perfectly ripe. He gets a better hold on both ears and yanks.
Peter’s chin is tilted up at an angle, his neck is exposed, and big wet eyes blink up at Tony. In the sweetest voice, he hears Peter say, “You can take what you want. It’s all for you.”
What a perfect boy, Peter is. “Oh?” Tony trails one finger down the side of Peter’s face. “All for me, hm?” The hand that’s been petting Peter’s tail grabs onto it roughly and forces Peter to thrust hard against him. “Are you Daddy’s little bunny?”
Peter can only weakly nod his head; almost all movement is restricted by both of Tony’s callous hands.
Tony tsks at the movement. “Sweetheart, I’m not so sure that’s true. You were at that party, weren’t you? All dressed up like the cute little rabbit you are, with no shirt? I bet you were practically hopping at all the attention you were getting, weren’t you, baby?”
“N-no, daddy.”
“No? Are you sure? Wearing an outfit like that, I don’t doubt people were all over you. Did they try to touch you, baby? Were you letting people touch your cute ears?”
Peter weakly shakes his head side to side. “They tried ah- wouldn’t let ‘em.”
“Good boy. That’s a good boy, Peter.” He slides his hands under Peter’s perfect thighs and stands up. Carrying Peter over to the work table, he asks, “Do you think good boys should be rewarded?”
Peter nods fervently as he’s carried. He leans forward and kisses Tony sweetly on the mouth. “Please?”
Tony lowers his feet to the ground but immediately flips Peter around and pushes a firm hand on his back, bending him forward so that he can get a good look at his prey.
Rough hands drag down the lengths of Peter’s ears and over his neck, giving it a firm squeeze. They continue their path towards the collar of the vest and begin to pull down the straps. Maneuvering Peter’s arms backwards, Tony continues dragging the vest down until the fabric is bunched up around Peter’s wrists. Peter is left tied up, back instinctively arching.
“I think I’ll keep you just like this. All tied up and at my mercy.” Tony reaches around to the front of Peter’s waist, and Peter begins to squirm as he feels the tantalizing drag of a zipper. “I bet you’d love that.”
Peter can’t help but feel triumphant when he hears Tony’s breath catch. His voice is clearly strained when he asks, “Pete, baby. Why aren’t you wearing anything underneath?”
Peter’s already panting in anticipation, but Tony’s reaction causes even more excitement to bubble up within him. This hadn’t been planned. He just hadn’t wanted to waste a pair of boxers by cutting a hole into them like he had to do with the shorts.
Only when Peter’s shorts have fallen to his ankles does Tony make another move. Hands grip tight around Peter’s waist, and Tony’s beard drags down the sensitive side of his neck. Peter’s cock is trapped against the cold metal table, and he can feel hands petting him, but it’s not enough.
He makes a loud keening sound that has Tony running his hands soothingly down his sides.
“Shh, it’s okay. I know what you need.” Peter can hear the small hidden drawer of the desk slide open as Tony grabs the bottle of lube that’s kept in there. This is hardly the first time the lab’s been defiled in this fashion.
Peter writhes on the table as Tony works his fingers inside. Tony’s body heat at his back while the cool table is pressed to his front gives him an overwhelming contrast of sensation. He pleads as Tony’s fingers start scissoring inside him, “Please, please, please.” He needs more. God, he needs so much more, and he knows only Tony can give it to him.
Peter’s hands flex where they’re trapped by the vest at his wrists. He knows from experience that Tony could keep this up for hours, but Peter won’t last; there’s no way he’ll survive that long. He’s already so hard, and his precum is making a puddle on the stainless steel.
Peter pleads, desperate for more, but it’s not until he’s completely flushed from head to toe and a writhing mess, with his breath fogging up the steel, that Tony takes pity on him. Peter’s head bows forward when he finally feels the head of Tony’s cock drag along his hole. He feels a burning stretch as Tony presses forward and slowly sinks into him. There’s no other way to describe it, Tony’s big. There’s a moment when Peter subconsciously tries to fight it, rocking forward onto his toes when the pressure feels like it’s too much, but there’s nowhere to go. He’s forced to take Tony inch by delicious inch.
“You can take it.” Tony starts a pace that is slow but deep. Peter can feel each drag of his length, and every time Tony bottoms out, a harsh breath punches out of Peter’s body. Peter’s insides feel velvety soft and Tony fights his instincts to slam into him, he wants to savor this.
Peter’s bunny ears are grabbed in a fist and pulled to the side, giving Tony clear access to his neck. His mouth presses into soft flesh, and Peter knows there will be an impressive trail of blue left behind. Somewhere in the corner of his mind, he thinks forget the ears and tail, he’ll never be able to hide the imprint of Tony’s teeth.
Tony is insistent with his mouth but doesn’t speed up his pace. It’s not enough. Peter rocks his hips back in desperate need of more friction. He tries valiantly to meet Tony’s thrusts with his own but he’s stopped when Tony pins his hips in place with firm hands. He’s forced to just lay there and take it.
Tears well up in his eyes, and a strangled moan leaves his mouth. Peter hiccups, “Daddy…”
There’s a deep chuckle, and Peter can feel its reverberation zip along his spine. The sound of it makes his stomach flip. It’s thrilling.
“Ah, no patience then. What was that story about the turtle and the hare?” One of Tony’s hands drags back up Peter’s spine and fists in the curls at the base of his nape, pulling back until Peter’s body lifts up. “It’s okay, I’ll give you what you need.” Tony’s hips snap forward and begin a brutal pace. The new angle lets him hit Peter’s prostate with each thrust.
High-pitched whining sounds come out of Peter’s throat with every stroke. His entire body feels molten hot; his senses are completely overwhelmed, and he can’t hear anything but the litany of praise and filth falling from Tony’s mouth. You gonna come just from my cock, baby? You take me so well. You were made for this. No one else can make you feel like this. Only me.
“Come on sweetheart, spill your little load for daddy.”
That’s all he needs. Peter’s eyes are squeezed shut as his body convulses. His hole clenches deliciously around Tony’s cock, and his vision whites out from the pleasure. Tony doesn’t stop. Just keeps fucking him through his first orgasm and into the next.
They’re slow to wake up. FRIDAY keeps the room dark and muted from the outside world despite the late morning hour. Peter is comfortable and warm and sated. His head is cushioned on a firm bicep, and Tony’s thigh is thrown over his hip. Soft puffs of breath gust against the back of his neck. These are the moments that he will never get used to.
Peter rolls over to face Tony and drags a single digit down the bridge of his nose. Tony always seems to carry the weight of the world on his shoulders. Seeing him like this, face lax and content in sleep, Peter thinks he’d do vicious things to protect him.
He glides his finger to trace the shape of Tony’s lips, and when he gets to the seam, sharp teeth nip at him. He looks up to see Tony peering at him. His voice is groggy when he says, “Too early. Sleep.”
A hand drags through Peter’s hair, and nails scratch lightly at the back of his scalp. Peter’s eyes are already sliding shut when the same hand drags roughly back to the top of his head. “Uh-”
“Peter.” Tony grabs one of Peter’s hands and maneuvers it to touch the top of his own head. “Feel. No more ears.”
“N-No more ears?!” Peter jumps out of bed and rushes to the bathroom to look at himself in the mirror. When he finds nothing but his usual curly locks, he turns around and pulls down his sleep shorts. He gasps. “No tail!”
Peter rushes back, screaming, “Look!” and jumps onto the large, plush bed. His pajamas are still down around his thighs, and really-
Before Tony can say anything, a bright light flashes, and a portal appears. Dr. Strange walks briskly through and shouts, “Peter!”
Tony yelps and scrambles forward, yanking Peter’s sleep shorts back up. His eyes immediately turn to Strange, and his brow furrows in anger. “Did you see anyth-”
“What the hell is going on, Peter?” Stephen looks exhausted. His cloak has burn marks along the edges and a rip on the left shoulder. There’s also some sort of purple slime coating the hem of his pants. “Brigitta has been yelling at me to fix my mistake before I ruin your life, but I don’t even know what she’s talking about.” He stands up straighter, eyes piercing. “So? Care to clarify?”
Peter lowers from where he’s raised on his knees to sit on the bed. “O-Oh. This is, uh, well…you see…remember the transformation spell you did on Friday night? Well, I woke up really late yesterday, and I still had ears and a tail. I was getting really freaked out about it, ya know, because, like, I have class on Monday and-”
Stephen interrupts with a hand raised in the air. “Why would you freak out about still having ears and a tail? You knew how long the duration of the spell was. I specifically told you the timeframe.”
“Well, yeah, but you said two to four hours!”
If looks could kill, Peter thinks, he would be dead a million times over. Buried deep into the ground where no one could ever find his remains. Dr. Strange speaks in a tone that is pure exasperation. “I said at least TWENTY-FOUR hours.”
Peter blanches. “O-Oh.”
He brings a hand up to rub the back of his head sheepishly. “No kidding, huh? That’s my bad, Dr. Strange, sir. I guess I freaked out for nothing.”
Stephen lets out a long, withering sigh. “I’m going to bed.”
A portal whirls to life behind him, and he promptly walks through it before letting it shut.
Peter turns to Tony with a grimace. “Do you think he’s really mad?”
Tony is lounging against the headboard with his arms crossed, cradling the back of his head. He sounds completely nonchalant when he replies, “He’ll get over it. Pancakes?”
“God, yes.”