ten

734 59 0
                                    


Tate only shifted his arms from his head to roll himself under the table as the glass scattered everywhere. From his position of cover, he couldn't see much beyond the feet of the guards. A gunshot popped off and he flinched as answering cry of pain echoed it. It wasn't Peter's cry, that let him breathe slightly easier. The body that fell to the ground a few feet away was obviously the source. The man was clutching at the red spilling from his shoulder, gun discarded on the floor. Tate peered around chair legs as a red suited foot kicked the man in the head and he hit the floor, unconscious. Two more gunshots made him cover his ears and there was a curse, a thud and a second body joining the one on the floor. Another cry of pain, a sharp noise of something hard hitting flesh and the last two guards were down. All four men uncurious and bleeding. 

Tate waited a second, pulse thundering in his ears as he tried to slow his breathing down. The cut on his neck stung and his ankles were bruised by the cuffs still holding them restrained. His whole body seemed to be throbbing suddenly, mind becoming aware of it as the danger seemed to fade. He was tired, battered and sore. He wanted a drink and something to eat and a shower. He felt icky and slightly gross. For a second, there was silence other than the wind whistling through the broken window and the distant white noise of the city outside. "Tate?" Peter's voice was soft and slightly vulnerable. 

"Peter", Tate pushed himself out from under the table. The cuffs on his ankles caught tight and he stumbled as he tried to get to his feet. Peter was there in an instant, vaulting over the nearest sofa and catching him by the shoulders before he could hit the floor. 

"Hey. I've got you. I've got you". Peter sighed in relief as the dark haired boy wrapped his arms around his neck. "Are you okay?"

"I am okay", Tate smiled into the boy's shoulder. Peter's touch was warm and strong, he melted into it and closed his eyes to breathe him in. "I am so glad to see you Petey boy". 

Peter laughed and hugged him tighter. "Me too. I was so worried!" He pulled away slightly to glance Tate over. Eyes lingering on the bruises blocking on his wrists and the deep cut at the base of his neck that was still bleeding slightly. From the feel of it, Tate was probably going to need stitches. (Urgh stitches). "Tony has been going mad with worry". 

"Where's my dad?" Tate glanced out the broken window. Below he could see black Shield cars surrounding the building and the gathering of crowds beyond the police line. Several people had cameras, flashing and most probably recording. Distantly, something exploded and seemed to answer Tate's question. 

"He sent me to secure you while he and SHIELD rounded up the others. He wants to make sure that everything is sorted so that no one comes after you again", Peter answered. "Shall we get out of here?"

"The service was terrible", Tate cast a glare around the room. The hero went to led him gently towards the window but he didn't move. "Wait". 

"What is it?" 

Tate reached up to rest his hand on the covered skin of Peter's cheek. Gently, he began to roll up the material of his mask. Peter let him until he was pulling the mask away. The brown haired boy looked tired but happy. Tate beamed at him, "There you are". Then he was leaning forwards to kiss him. It was a gentle kiss, soft and reassuring. Peter's hands cupping his waist as Tate rubbed his thumbs gently over the soft skin of his boyfriend's cheeks. When they parted, Peter was grinning giddily at him. 

"I am so glad you are okay". 

"Me too. Now put this back on and take me out of here. The press are going to have a field day as it is, we don't need to add your identity to it". He pressed the mask back into Peter's hands. The brown haired boy pulled it on and his face was once again obscured. 

"Let's deal with this first", His voice came out with a audible grin as he knelt down at Tate's feet. The black haired boy watching as Peter took ahold of the cuffs around his ankles. With a grunt of effort, he pulled and the metal clasp broke. The first down then the second. "Alright then", he bounced back up. (Tate knew that under the mask Peter was grinning like a puppy). "Let's go. Hold on". 

Tate, who's ankles were sore and swelling with bruises now that they were free, merely threw his arms around Peter's neck and leapt up. The other boy caught him, like he knew he would, sweeping his legs up and carrying like a child. Tate laughed as he buried his face into the boy's shoulder. "Take me home?" He wrapped his legs around the other's waist and clung on as the hero began walking towards the broken window. 

"As Baby Stark commands", Peter joked back as he stood on the edge of the drop. Several floors below him and the pavement where crowds were now pointing. One hand clinging back to Tate as the other stuck a web to the floor above and then he stepped out into thin air. Tate couldn't help but hold on tighter as they began their descent down. The wind whipping his hair around his head as he felt the word come up to meet them. 

Peter seemed to bounce slightly on his toes, as light as an insect before he fully settled his weight. Tate loosed his hold, getting down as the noise picked up. The press were fighting against the line of policemen holding him back and a few black suited SHIELD agents were approaching. At the sight of them, Tate shrunk back closer to Peter. The flashes and the noise suddenly too much. 

A familiar sound of jet engines alerted him to the arrival and he turned his face to the sky. "Dad!" He was reaching out as the ironman suit hit the concrete and melted away to reveal Tony in a jumper and jeans. 

"Tate!" He was reaching back and Tate was grabbing at him. "You're okay. Don't you dare scare me like that again!" His hold was secure and safe. This man was his father and Kris's revelation didn't change that. 

"It's not like I wanted to", Tate grumbled. 

"Tate!" A familiar cry had them both turning. Pepper was getting out of a car and making herby towards them. She pushed a few reporters out of the way before the rest parted for her like the sea. The police letting her pass. 

"Pep!" Tate was reaching out to her too and she threw her arms around him. 

"Oh Tate, honey. Are you okay?" Her hands were gentle as she smoothed back his hair to see his face. "Did they hurt you?" 

"Nothing worse than what I've gotten skating", Tate grinned back. "But I missed my birthday". He was seventeen now.  

"Your friends are waiting for you. We shall celebrate tomorrow if you want. Anything you like", Tony promised as he pressed a kiss to his head. "Let's get you home". 

"Please", Tate nodded. He turned to where Peter was still standing. "Thank you". He wanted to say more but the flashes of cameras were still blinding and there was so many people. 

"You're welcome", Spiderman nodded his head then fired a web and swung off into the air. Tate watched him go for a second before allowing his parents to guide him back to Pepper's car. Both of them making claims of 'no comment' to the vultures surrounding them. It was only in the safety of the vehicle and away from the prying eyes that he dozed off, head on Tony's shoulder and Pepper's hand clutched in one of his own. 




unedited 

Tate deserves all the hugs. 

Tin Can boy  || Peter ParkerWhere stories live. Discover now