QUENTIN BECK
Flashback

I sat in the bar and waited for Peter, trying to shove the shame back down my throat.

I can't believe what I'm about to do.

"I'll take another drink," I told the bartender, glancing out the window every few seconds in anticipation of his arrival. What was about to happen was something I thought I really wanted. And it still was, I just desperately wished it was anyone but Peter that had EDITH.

EDITH is a pair of glasses that Tony Stark had designed before he died and then he passed them off to Peter. But they weren't just a regular pair of glasses. He had easy access to killer drones from Stark Industry, easily hack into other technology, manipulate your reality- the mechanics were really indescribable.

And I needed that technology, my whole team had devoted so much time and effort into getting it. But after getting to know Peter and realizing what I was supposed to do to him took away all that excitement and relief.

"Bad night?" the bartender asked and filled my glass with more of the bitter liquid. I nodded in response, downing the whole thing in one go. He raised an eyebrow when I tapped the glass to signal a refill, but did it anyway. He opened his mouth to say something. Probably to ask about the troublesome look on my face, but I was glad when he walked away.

I'm already about to do more lying than I want to tonight.

The bell above the door jingled when Peter walked in. He had on a tight fitted, plain T-shirt and a zip up jacket wrapped around his thin but toned frame. He looked around awkwardly before smiling when our eyes locked and dashed over. I found my own grin matching his at seeing how fast his sad demeanor changed just by seeing me.

"I'm too young to drink," he admitted sheepishly and took the seat next to me at the bar.

"You blipped, didn't you?" I asked him with a mischievous smile, "you're technically twenty one."

He fiddled with his hands nervously. "I feel bad lying."

My heart swelled at how cute he was but then contorted painfully when I realized how ironic the statement was, when I had to do a large amount of lying tonight. To him.

"He'll take a lemonade," I instructed the bartender who nodded and turned around to get it. It was probably hard to find, seeing that no one orders lemonade at a bar.

"I love lemonade!" he grinned like a little kid when I gazed down at him fondly.

He finally got his drink and we both sat in silence for a bit while trying to figure out the right words to say. It wasn't an uncomfortable or awkward silence like you'd expect it to be. Oddly enough, it was a comforting kind of silence.

"Excuse me," a woman picked up something from the floor and handed it to Peter. "Is this yours?"

It was EDITH.

Peter's face paled. "Oh my god," he breathed out in relief, "thank you so much." She nodded and walked out of the bar.

I tried to wipe off the grim look on my face. I felt like the guilt was pouring off of me in waves. His sixth sense couldn't pick that up, could it?

"What are those?" I pretended not to know and put on my best poker face.

"This is EDITH," he told me proudly, "Mr Stark have them to me after he... you know," his happy tone trailed off after his sentence. It was almost as painful as watching a puppy die. You know what, it was worse.

"EDITH?" I asked, "you named your glasses?"

He shook his head, "it's an abbreviation Mr Stark made for them. It means, 'even dead I'm the hero'." He let out a sad chuckle and rubbed his thumbs together nervously. "He was such an amazing guy."

I gritted my teeth subtly.

'Amazing guy' my ass.

I spent years building an illusion system. It was a  revolutionary breakthrough with limitless applications, which Tony turned into a self-therapy machine and renamed my life's work 'BARF', then he fired me, saying I was... unstable.

"You could say that," I replied with a forced grin.

"Sometimes," he began, "I'm scared that I'll never be like Mr Stark."

I couldn't help myself and reached my hand toward his to hold it in my own.

"Well you're not, you're Peter. And to me that's way better."

He squeezed my hand a little bit. "I just don't know if I'm cut out to hold all this pressure the world is piling onto me. I'm just supposed to be a friendly neighborhood Spiderman."

"What do you want?"

He scrunched his eyebrows together, "what do you mean?"

"What do you want?" I repeated.

He tensed his shoulders, "I don't know."

"You. Peter Parker. Right now. What do you want?"

He squirmed in his seat, "I-I want to go on my school trip with the girl I really like," he admitted and I felt the jealousy in my blood rise, but I held it in.

This is my chance.

And no matter how badly I wanted to have him all to myself, I couldn't. I had to redeem myself after what Tony did to me. And it wasn't just something that effected me, it was something that would effect my whole team, everyone who came up with our plan. I couldn't let so many people down. Especially when they all knew just how horrible Tony Stark had made me feel. Because he made them feel horrible too.

"Tell me about this girl," I demanded. I knew it would only be a blow to my ego and piss me off but I couldn't help but let my thoughts wander. What did she have that I didn't?

"She's really smart, and pretty." He told me, "she's funny but in a depressing way... but it's the good kind."

"There's a good kind of depressing?" I laughed.

He grinned his cute little grin. "There's a good kind of just about everything."

I could almost hear how fast my heart was beating in my chest just by looking down at him. I was usually so smooth when it came to flirting. Peter Parker made me feel like some school girl by the way he made my heart race, mind go blank and palms sweat. I don't think I preferred it any other way though.

"My love life in a nutshell has just been kind of a fail," he snickered bitterly. "I just want to finally be with someone and have it feel right. I want it to go right. Does that make any sense to you?" he asked me. "Jeez, I bet I sound totally insane right now."

I ran my fingers through his hair affectionately to get the fringe out of his face. "No, you don't sound insane at all."

He subconsciously leaned into my touch and sighed, "And now because of these stupid glasses all of that's ruined." He paused, "I-I don't mean it like that! I'm really grateful that Mr Stark trusts me so much and it's such an honor for him to give me these! I guess it's Thanos's fault, I think."

"Well let's see them on," I urged him and pointed to the glasses. He nodded and pulled them up and onto his face. It was quite cute, actually. The lenses were too big for his face and took up more than they should've. He posed jokingly despite his previously mournful expression.

Could he get any more adorable?

"I actually really like them," he beamed, "But everyone else has been saying they're stupid."

"I think you look cute," I told him with a stupidly whipped grin on my face. I was way too far in with this kid.

Way. Too. Far.

He blushed and turned his head to the side, flustered with my statement. He pulled them off of his face and handed them to me. "You try."

Here we go.

"Me?" I repeated, "no, they're yours."

He grabbed my arm and pulled me closer. "Just try them on," I persisted.

I forced a sigh and silently agreed. He put them on for me, leaning in a little closer than necessary. But I enjoyed it, probably too much. I wasn't usually like this. I'm an intelligent guy with a lot of self control, yet when it came to Peter he had me trapped in his intoxicating little grin and eyes full of innocence.

He moved back, much to my disappointment, in order to get a better look. He bit down on his bottom lip as he scanned me up and down. "What do you think?"

"You look really good," he gushed shyly.

We both just stared at each other and I felt the same longing I had the other night when we kissed. He was inching toward me and I couldn't decide whether it was a good idea or not to give into my desires.

"I want you to have them," he whispered, our faces so close to connecting but not quite and it drove me insane. I couldn't get enough of him.

"Peter, I can't. Tony gave you those for a reason."

Peter shook his head with pleading eyes, "the note said 'for the next Ironman, I choose you'. He always knew I wasn't ready for this! Why would you give them to me?"

The sadness echoed on his delicate features made my chest heavy with regret.

I can't do this to him.

I turned my head to the side to see all of my coworkers discreetly eavesdropping and analyzing every aspect of our conversation.

But I have to.

"Spidey, are you sure this is what you want?"

Please say no. I'm giving you the chance to back out. Don't make me do this.

"One hundred percent," he mumbled and his gaze traveled down to my lips. I was still debating whether or not to take them and any possible way to get him to back out without being too obvious, but all my thoughts vanished the second our lips connected again.

Peter's eyes fluttered shut and his soft mouth melded with mine as our noses slightly brushed against each other. I gripped his waist tightly as his arms found their way wrapped around my neck.

The way his body melted against mine ignited my craving for him but as well as my conscience that was viciously berating me. Yet I couldn't find it in myself to stop.