A Time Trip

A Time Trip 2

Dedicated to @CrimtheNugget 

The light in front of him disappears in a flash, his eyes blinking to adjust to the yellow sun that has risen outside. Tony leans his body out the window, stretching himself to see if the other man was still anywhere around. A sour feeling dips low into his stomach as he steps backwards in his room, his hands slowly pulling his window shut. It had been an incredible night but it was something so much more than that. His face heated up, remembering how close they had been.

How deep he had gone.

Tony shakes out his head, punching a fist to his chest which helps to force in a very needed breath.

With a clearer mind he manages to shower and tidy up his room. That is, right after he swan dived into the sheets that smelled of their shared bodies. He simply laid among the disarray. Soon enough his freshly bathed brain begins screaming for a distraction, so he picks up the cube Peter had gotten stung by.

The screen lights up with data: Threat lvl: 3. Tony's brow lifts. Peter was unlike any human he's ever seen, and yet he was only a moderate threat? Its software must be broken then. He taps his fingers on his desk before slapping the cube away. The cube lets out a shock, protesting and he frowns at it.

"Hey now, don't ruin my desk." Tony lectures it with a stern finger. He lifts it up, quickly rubbing at the nearly seared surface. On the topic of his gadgets Tony whips his head to the device Peter had fixed for him. Curious, he reaches for it, his thumb heading straight to the contacts. As though he himself had gotten electrocuted he notices a contact name he wasn't familiar with: P-5-20-5-R. With bated breath he presses 'message'.

After many moments of hesitation Tony begins to draft a response.

"Peter, it's Tony. Simulation Tony, I guess? Anyways, I just wanted to tell you I had an amazing night with yo" -

His mother's voice calls out for him. Maybe it's for the best?

He needed more time to think.

| |

Dinner had sucked. Bland meatloaf dried up the spit in his mouth to the point where even his drink couldn't do anything for him. He excused himself hurriedly, landing back first on his bed with a low huff. He rolls onto his stomach, device in hand. His fingers stall above the screen, words completely abandoning him. He drops it onto the bed, digging his fingers harshly into his scalp before bolting up and snatching a piece of paper. Sitting down he slides on his glasses, pressing his palm into his chin as he thinks.

"It's Tony. Not the one you're probably with now but I hope you arrived home safely." His mind drifts to the way Peter had kissed him sweetly before he left, their lips fitting against each other lingeringly. His hand shakes slightly as he continues,

"The truth is, I can't stop thinking about you. I can't help but be curious about where you came from, who exactly you are, and just what it is that you enjoy about your world. " A feeling of sadness tugs at his chest, a longing he didn't expect to feel blossoming.

"I want to be with you." Existential dread began to snowball in his mind.

"But I understand I'm not real.... It's a sick fate that I met you, the only real person I've ever known. Then you were taken from me."

Although he believes Peter, the feelings inside him feel so very real. He reaches for the device and types it out, rereading it for the sixth time before finally sending it. He hears a pleasant chime confirming its delivery but it only works to enhance the rising panic he was feeling.