penistower | He made some bad investments.

Entry tags:

He made some bad investments.

After working with her at the Battle of New York, Tony had come to respect Rescue -- and the woman behind the suit, of course. But to say they were friends was a gross overshot. Pepper and he could get along. They both had tough shells and were ready equipped with all sorts of sarcasm and wit to deflect any unwanted attention. Because they were essentially Iron Man and Iron Woman, however, the press had their own ideas about the relationship between the pair.

Nick had phoned earlier to tell them about a recent threat, and words came out of his mouth that Tony was pretty sure he misheard. So he made the other man repeat them like, three times. But they didn't change. SHIELD wanted Rescue and Iron Man to shack up, publically. "Officially" so that when the bad guys came they'd have two heroes to contend with, but also so they'd think they were each other's weakness. Since they were only teammates, what could be the harm?

Before he knew it, a press release was set for the morning and Pepper Potts was on her way over to the Tower to move in. He had about a thousand rooms in the place, but if Dr. Doom did find his way inside they should be together just in case. It's all very -- sudden for a man who's never even had a girlfriend. And he still doesn't, but he has to convince the world he does. #Awkward.

"Welcome to Stark Tower, Ms. Potts. And please..."

"Wipe your feet," Tony interrupts JARVIS and his big, sweeping introduction, lifting his eyebrows as he watches her arrival. Should he help her with her stuff...? Probably. After a beat's hesitation, he moves to grab the larger of her two bags.

"Enjoy your stay," JARVIS corrects steadfastly, much to Tony's chagrin. But he offers up a meek little smile for her all the same.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

A strange tingle of... something claws at his insides. He bites into his lip and throws his phone aside. He can deal with Hogan later. Tony pulls off his glasses and rubs at his eyes. "Look, I know you'd probably rather be anywhere else, but..." He looks over at her, eyes crossing a bit from their close proximity. "I'm really glad, you know. All things considered, that... You know." She probably doesn't. That it's you just seems intimate.

"I know?" It's a gentle tease, lips hitching into a tiny smile at the repetition, but she sobers up soon. She'd rather not have him thinking that way if she can help it; not when it isn't true. "No, I wouldn't. I mean, it's not some terrible chore, being here. It's actually proving... quite nice."

Her gaze strays down to his lips unbidden, catching herself a moment too late. Clearing her throat, she gives a little embarrassed smile and turns her head, ostensibly to shut down the tablet.

The way she says that makes his cheeks burn in a way he can feel, turning away abruptly when she does, his heart inexplicably picking up speed. He wonders if she can hear it beat, or maybe the constant whir of the arc reactor alongside it that he's long ago tuned out. He thinks it's probably white noise though he should try to sleep on his other side so she doesn't have to deal with the light. "You said it better than me," he admits, nodding succinctly.

He picks up his phone and puts it back on the top of the table, slipping his other leg under the blankets and tugging experimentally on them to make sure he won't disturb her with the motion later. "Are you, um. Ready for the light to go out? I just want to, warn you that the reactor is really bright and if it bothers you..." Feeling strangely self-conscious about it in a way he hasn't in a long time, he moves to hunker down and and draw the top blanket up around his throat so he can poke one foot out the other side.

Pepper sets aside the powered down tablet before turning her head and nodding with a small smile. "Yeah. It's been a busy day." Well, maybe not busy in a traditional sense, but it's been... a lot. She's pretty tired, so much so that going to sleep in the same bed as Tony doesn't faze her as much now as it did earlier in the day.

"I'm sure it'll be fine. Really," she dismisses his concern over the arc gently, following suit and tucking herself in after fluffing her pillow. Every bit of her except her face is covered, blankets pulled up to her chin; not because she's bashful or anything but because she gets cold so easily during the night. Lightly, she adds, "I'll be sure to poke you or something if it becomes a problem."

"Jarvis," he mutters sleepily, like he probably did when he was a kid. The lights go out instantly, like a candle being blown out. His leg taps hers in a quest for more blankets, grateful she can't see how flustered the simple accidental brush makes him.

"Please do." Poke him. That's weird, but whatever. He squeezes his eyes shut and tries to will sleep to come. As per usual, shutting out the lights and actually hunkering down only makes his mind spring to life with all that tomorrow will bring, good and bad.

She's glad the dark hides her own reaction to that tap, sure that she looks equally startled, but she's quick to get over it. She inhales a deep breath and lets it out through her nose, sighing a little as she burrows deeper into the soft bedding, rolling to her side facing him and shoving her hand under her pillow, folding her other arm close to her chest. The darkness sharpens her other senses and she can now catch the faintest whir of the arc over the soft noises of her breathing and moving about, but it doesn't bother her.

"Good night, Tony," she bids softly, her eyes already closed and a slightly drowsy edge to her voice. Maybe later she'd contemplate how easy it really was to fall asleep with him next to her; the amount of trust it signifies. She's too tired all of the sudden to worry about tomorrow.

There's a soft smile audible in his reply. "Good night, Pepper." He thinks he likes being on a first name basis with her, though he can't explain why such a simple thing gets under his skin. He tries desperately to call upon the drowsiness he'd felt lying on the mat in the gym not too long ago. But now it's predictably gone. He's alone in the dark with his thoughts and that never helps him accomplish much at the end of it all.

For an hour or so, Tony actively tries to follow her into sleep, but then he's turning over in frustration, staring at the ceiling for a few seconds before his curiosity gets the better of him. He moves as subtly as he can onto his side facing her, the blue tendrils of light that escape through his shirt framing her peaceful countenance perfectly. He can't say for sure why, but laying there next to her and observing her sleep helps him relax. Watching her for another hour at least he's eventually able to drift off, face only a half-pillow's space from hers.

Pepper sleeps soundly, not bothered by Tony's difficulties in doing the same. She never wakes even as he stirs beside her, not even when he watches her slumber in the faint light of the arc bleeding through his shirt before eventually following her. She remains unconscious to it all, just as she does when she rolls on her belly in the wee hours of the night so that her side presses up against him, her body gladly gravitating toward his blissful warmth without consent from her mind.

His eyes flutter at the move, letting out a soft sound of unconscious approva. Equally unconsciously, he tangles their legs and nudges an arm around her, nuzzling his way onto her pillow. He remains like that until morning, still sleeping soundly far past his usual waking hour. It's too pleasant -- too warm. A part of him is trying to push its way through, but the rest keeps getting dragged back under. Without any awareness, his first conscious thought is that he doesn't want to wake up at all. That whatever is happening feels too good to end now.

Edited 2015-12-06 21:59 (UTC)

Pepper is mired in the same sensation of utter contentment even as she begins to slowly wake up, a soft, sleepy noise escaping her as she stirs, gently arching and pressing further into the embrace of the warm, solid body. ...Wait, what? Slowly, she begins to understand what's happened as sleep gives way to awareness -- of several sorts. She's suddenly indeed completely aware of how tangled up she and Tony have become during the night; and just how nice it feels. More than nice, it feels... safe, comfortable. Right in a way she can't explain. And maybe a little sexy, too.

Yeah, she should move away. That's the sensible thing to do. But maybe just a moment longer won't hurt.

The way she shifts closer is more than a little sexy according to certain parts of him, determined to wake long before he can crawl his way to the surface. It's been a long time since he slept that nicely and before he can stop himself he's pushing his nose into her throat, thinking again how heavenly her hair smells. Wait -- who's hair? It takes him several seconds longer to realize what's happened, slowly blinking eyes open heavy with sleep.

Does he apologize? Does he break away and pretend this never happened? All of it seems too awkward to reconcile with, instead deliberately burrowing closer where she can't see his face. Which of course only exacerbates things. Not only is he sporting half a boner, but now the arc reactor presses into her too and that can't possibly be comfortable. But she's so... warm. This feels right, and now he's freaked right the hell out.

"...Morning." It's more of a mumbled realization than a greeting, but okay. He officially admits to being awake. Help him.

She can't help the soft intake of breath at the way he burrows closer, a faint, almost kittenish noise escaping her; clearly one of enjoyment and not of objection, causing a little shudder to run through her at the contact -- both the unfamiliar press of the arc reactor and the more familiar beginnings of morning wood against her thigh. An embarrassed blush rises to her cheeks both at the little noise she made and the way her nipples tighten into hard peaks involuntarily at it all. She prays it's not noticeable as she struggles to collect her wits and instill some balance into the situation.

"Good morning," she returns, voice only slightly shaky. She clears her throat delicately to get rid of the wobble. "How'd you sleep?"

She's hoping the best way to handle with this is to just not make a big deal out of it. They're both consenting adults with no significant others, nobody's being hurt by a little unwitting snuggling. Right?

Oh god, that sound. This is officially too sexy and he needs to abort right the fuck now. Tony does a little duck and roll maneuver so that he never has to look directly at Pepper (EVER AGAIN GOOD LORD), grabbing at his pillow when he reaches his side. In his head, he's scolding his body like a dog, he never gave himself permission to do any of that and here he is wanting things with Pepper Potts of all people. Not that she's--

"A little too well, apparently," he grumbles into his pillowcase, and it's about as close to a real apology as he's willing to come. They have to stay in this house together all day like they're newlyweds and field calls and emails from every corner of the globe. Of course this is how it starts, why wouldn't it be?

She swallows dryly, rolling on her back herself to put some more distance between them, staring up at the ceiling. This is certainly an interesting start to the day.

"Well, maybe you needed a good night's sleep. I'll go start us some breakfast, shall I?" She's already wide awake and it'll give her something to do that is not thinking about this development too closely -- nor the day they'll likely have ahead of them. It also gives him a moment alone to deal with his... situation.

She pushes the covers aside and gets up, grabbing a hair tie before padding out, pulling her hair into a sloppy bun. Only belatedly does she realize that kind of looked like an escape, but there's nothing to do about it now. Sighing, she uses another bathroom quickly before making her way into the kitchen, finding the things she needs with some snooping and JARVIS's help. By the time Tony makes it out, she has coffee brewed and toast waiting to be toasted, oatmeal bubbling on the stove while she cuts up some fruit.

"You don't--" But she's already up, and he watches her go, feeling strangely melancholy about the entire situation. She was right, he needed the rest, and he hadn't slept so soundly in... ever really. Steeling himself, he gets up out of bed with only mild discomfort and gets right into the shower. It's instant relief, and he dawdles there a while though he'd only taken one the night before.

After his shower, he brushes his teeth and runs through all his normal morning routine, trying desperately to pretend Pepper Potts wasn't downstairs making him breakfast. It's all so surreal, but he has to get used to it. The press release is hitting the airwaves within the hour so there's absolutely no turning back now.

He winds up downstairs in about a half hour, his hair combed back with some pomade (he is capable of using a moderate amount okay) to prevent it from curling again, some light linen pants, sneakers, and a light blue shirt he's still buttoning with pruney fingers as he blows into the kitchen. Oatmeal... on the stove. That's a call-back. Once his shirt is buttoned, though he doesn't notice he missed one and now it's hanging crookedly, he leans over the cutting board to grab a slice of banana. "No strawberry?" he asks in hopes of blowing over that whole thing earlier.

She looks up when he enters and gives a smile, lips twitching a bit at the crookedly buttoned shirt. She feels a bit underdressed next to him, still in her pajamas, but it's a fleeting discomfort.

"Oh -- sorry. You'll have to get them yourself if you want some. I'm allergic," she says a bit apologetically, popping a piece of apple into her mouth. "Coffee's done. I think the oatmeal is too, if you want some. I wasn't sure if you even liked it."

But she does, and since she was going to make it anyway... she nods at him, informing lightly, "You missed a button."

"Oh." He feels like that's something he should've known, and he gives a little frown. "No, this is fine." He hasn't eaten oatmeal since he was a kid, but it smells good, like Christmas or something.

He's reluctant to look down at her prompting, almost like he expects it to be a prank of some sort. But when he does he finds she's right and unbuttons each button again with an exasperated sigh before starting over again. "I meant to do that."

She hardly expected him to remember a little detail like that. She's not sure when it could have ever come up, really. Her lips curve in amusement at his response regarding his shirt, humming knowingly. Finishing with the fruit, she scoops the slices into a bowl before moving the cutting board aside. She's moving about with easy familiarity, like she's been using this kitchen forever though she hasn't; she'd had enough time to snoop through every drawer and cupboard.

"This is a beautiful kitchen," she remarks idly as she scoops some oatmeal into bowls for them. "Do you use it much?" She suspects she knows the answer, though.

He gives up at least three buttons from the top, this is too many. It's not like the arc reactor bothers Pepper so why bother covering it up? He goes to the coffee pot and pours an overfull cup, sipping some off the top so he can pick it up without spilling it. "Thank you?" Is that a thing, sure. Why not. "This is probably the most action it's seen all year. I can't even fry an egg without burning the house down."

"Pity. These appliances are top notch." Like everything else in the place, of course. She takes the same seat she had last night when they had dinner, setting down their bowls of oatmeal. "Would you mind pouring me a cup, too?"

He nods, leaning back against the counter facing her. "At least while you're living here they won't feel so neglected." Wait. Did that come out wrong? He can't even be sure, grateful for the task as he sets his cup down in front of the seat next to her and turns around to start over. At the last minute he remembers she likes milk, stopping before it's too late to add any, though it's a really close call. He grabs the milk she'd left out and pours a dash in the mug before popping it back into the fridge.

Tony carefully walks around the island and sets her cup in front of her, his hand trailing along her arm as it retreats. It's just deliberate enough so that it couldn't have been wholly accidental, but it was clearly not premeditated all the same. He slips into his chair and begins eating without any hesitation whatsoever.

"Thanks," she murmurs softly when he sets down a cup for her, faltering a little when his calloused hand strokes over her arm; the gesture feels almost affectionate, like one of those casual caresses between an actual couple. It felt... nice. Blinking rapidly a few times, she tries to will away the flutters in her belly and focuses on breakfast.

"Is it okay?" she asks after a quiet moment, meaning the porridge. "I like to make it on the stove rather than microwave it. I think the flavor is better that way."

"What?" Oh, the oatmeal. What else could she mean? He really hates himself sometimes. "Oh, no. I mean, yeah. It's perfect. Thank you." It seriously tastes better than anything he could think of eating right now and the speed with which he does so seems to demonstrate that. Tony's never had microwave oatmeal so he can't really compare.

She beams happily, munching on a bit of fruit in the meanwhile. "There's some left in the pot if you want it."

"...Yeah? Do you want some?" He gets up again to refill his bowl, fingers grazing her collarbone with the askance.

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject