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

"I just pushed off the terrible decisions until after," he points out, shuffling cards around in his hand needlessly. God. He meets her gaze and it's like a livewire -- he needs to stop falling into these traps. "Don't tell me you're scared, Potts." No, with the way his breathing picks up that's definitely him.

"What would I have to be scared of?" she questions innocently as she too shuffles her cards, completely and totally bluffing. Her heart is hammering like crazy in her chest, a weird mixture of anticipation and dread prickling at her skin. Tomorrow, she'd remind herself yet again as to why she didn't drink.

"Nothing," he answers, too openly. He never wants her to have to fear anything while they're together. That's a partner thing, right? Tony's doubting himself more and more with each pleasant burn of vodka. "...I hope for the sake of those Mathlete's blood pressure you never lost." Okay, maybe mostly his blood pressure. He draws a card though he hadn't meant to do that. He discards it right after, wasting his turn.

"I was one of the few people actually trying to play by the rules, so how do you think I did?" she replies on a slight laugh that borders on a giggle. In other words, yeah, she'd lost -- blushing a little at the admittance when the words actually catch up with her brain. God, she's actually tipsy. She doesn't even notice his blunder with the cards, too focused on her own; or looking like she is, at least.

Oh, god. His eyes track over her body before he can stop himself, mouth drying out but it's not because he wants a drink this time. "Lucky Mathletes." Tony looks away when he realizes he's acting like a creep. He's not supposed to objectify Pepper, they're partners. Even if they are pretending to date, it's just-- Tony swallows, shaking his head. "I know you can go down. Stop stalling." His eyes jump back up, not even connecting how wrong that sounded he's so frustrated with his own hand.

"You didn't lose anything much. Like, literally," she says as if to comfort him, re-arranging her cards without making much sense of them. Dear lord what is she saying? Why is the saying? She needs to be stopped.

Encouraged by the alcohol, Pepper's unedited, instant reaction is a cross between a scoff of playful dismay and a snort of laughter, goggling at him incredulously. "Excuse--" Oh, wait. That's... yeah, totally not what he meant at all. "Never mind," she goes on a bit apologetically, more laughter burbling at the back of her throat as she discards a two of diamonds and snatches up the nine of hearts Tony abandoned in the discard pile previously.

"I really doubt that," he sends right back, equally without thinking. And god, her laugh. He's laughing too, in no time at all. "That was it, right?"

He draws a card and has to blink at it a few times. Did he really just get that lucky. "Uh-oh, too slow." He lays out his cards, all four 7s and 8,9,10 of clubs. He gestures for her hand and shakes his head. "Come on, lay 'em on me."

Pepper makes a slight moue of disgruntlement as she takes a look at Tony's hand and, with a slightest of sighs, lays them out. All she has are three 5s and 7, 8, 9 of hearts.

"This game wasn't such a fun idea, after all," she says with a slight sniff, draining the last gulp from her glass.

Usually he'd throw this back in her face. That was a good hand, he just got lucky though and he knows it. And for some reason he feels... bad. He's never felt bad for winning before. His toes curl against her leg, eyebrows knitting together and god -- he's drunk, isn't he? She's right, this was a terrible idea.

"Sorry. I'm... out of practice." With fun.

Pepper glances down at his foot against her leg, looking as if she's contemplating something for a beat. Tipping her head, she watches him for a few moments, a hint of glassiness in her gaze betraying the alcohol in her blood, before shaking her head.

"No. You shouldn't be sorry about winning," she says, reaching out to grab the wine bottle by the neck and emptying what's left in it into her glass. "I just don't like losing. It's a... character fault."

"You don't have any character faults." He really sounds like he believes it too for how quickly it comes out. He sits up a little, his foot dragging along her calf as he does. "Do you want to play another round and I'll let you win?" Wait. "I mean I'll... I wasn't supposed to say that part."

Pepper gives him a tight-lipped glance at his claim, a mix of fondness and disbelief -- but then he offers to let her win and she just looks miffed for a brief moment.

"No!" she bursts out laughing once that moment passes, picking up her glass. "Now I can't trust you not to lose on purpose."

He bites into his lip, watching her as if there's nothing else in the world he'd rather look at. His gaze is a little glassy, but as focused as it is in the lab, singular and unending. "Okay, so... What now?" Meaning, if not Rummy then what? At some point his playlist ended and now he's just staring, a little slack-jawed. He reaches for his drink too, polishing it off in two swallows.

"I don't know," she confesses softly after a beat, getting a little lost in his eyes. Realizing she's staring, she ducks her head and averts her gaze, her already pink cheeks blushing a little more as she exhales a breathy laugh. "...Day drinking is probably not the kind of example we should be setting, you know." Just a thought.

"You are so pretty when you blush." Oh wow, he has to stop doing that. He looks away too, though there's not much else to look at so he winds up just swiveling his head right back. "I wasn't aware we were... setting examples here. Iron badass power couples can have fun too." It sounds defensive even to his ears, but he has a point, and it's not like anyone has to know they're day drinking.

"Only then?" she volleys back jokingly to distract from the fact that the innocent comment only makes her blush more, abashed -- and pleased, in some recess of her mind she doesn't dwell on even as tipsy as she is. She sobers a little, however, at the defensive note to his voice, biting her lip. It really was just an errant comment.

"No. I don't suppose we are." Drawing in a deep breath, she pushes some hair behind her ear, and starts to get up off the floor a bit shakily. "Excuse me, I have to... I'll be right back."

They've been sitting and drinking for a while and frankly, her bladder can't take it anymore so to the bathroom she goes.

He nods after a beat, a little dazed by the sudden departure. Though he can't say it's a disappointing view. Oh god, he's staring at her ass. That's... He shouldn't do that. After a few seconds of sitting around waiting for her, he realizes that she had the right idea. Okay it's time to stand. Standing is no big deal. He can stand. Slowly, he teeters to his feet, blinking heavily as everything shifts at once. Still, no big deal. He's gotten through worse in much harder places to navigate.

Once he gets moving it starts to get easier, but by the time he reaches the door he's just so happy that he made it he forgets that being the closest bathroom to the living room it's also the one Pepper is most likely to be occupying. He barges in, but thankfully she'd already made it to the sink. And now he's just staring at her and why isn't he closing the door? And... "Do you want to make out?" That is NOT what he's supposed to say.

Pepper startles a little when Tony suddenly barges in. She could have sworn she locked the door? Or... did she? Now that she thinks about it, she can't be all that sure after all. She rinses the soap off her hands and reaches for the hand towel when those words come out of Tony's mouth, her lips parting in astonishment when she processes the question, gaping at him. That was unexpected.

"Uh. In the bathroom?" What? That's not entirely what she'd planned on saying. Squinting at him a little, she posits slowly, "Do... you want to make out?"

"Well..." He trails off, afraid of what he might say given half the chance. "Maybe not here." Which implied... what exactly? He's still just staring at her and he knows she probably thinks this is just because he's drunk. Wait-- isn't it? He's getting all turned around.

"I have to pee," he explains too late, that's why he's here. The making out thing came out of the moment, though now that he's asked it he's loathe to take it back. "It would kill some time." Making out, not peeing. He gives her a look like: this is a totally normal thing to ask. And they did have to practice being... comfortable with one another, if anyone was going to buy this at all. Right?

Pepper nods slowly at his comments, looking as if she really needs to focus -- she kind of does, having to really put thought into separating Tony's scattered answers from each other and connect the dots. It's ridiculous, she didn't drink that much, right? She wrinkles her nose a little at the time killing part. What, peeing? Wait, no. Not what he meant. The making out.

"Um," she says again intelligently, licking her lips. "...Okay."

What? She catches even herself off guard with her acceptance, but it kind of makes sense. They do need to fool everyone into thinking they're a real couple, right? "I mean, we should... practice looking like an actual couple, I guess, so." Yeah. "I'm just gonna let you. You know." She waves a hand in small circles, more or less a wordless do your thing, said hand touching his middle as she passes him by in a sort of throwaway gesture on her way back to the living room.

Wait, did she just... He wasn't sure what he expected, but easy acquiescence wasn't even in the realm of possibilities. He nods, still gawking slightly, touching his hand to his tummy in the spot her hand vacates instantly. He shuts the door behind her and does his thing, the whole while his heart hammering at that very unlikely exchange. As he washes his hands, he stares in the mirror and wonders if she won't admit her agreement had been a joke the second he gets back out there.

Moving on stiff, but more cooperative limbs, Tony edges back into the living room looking very much like a deer caught in headlights. "...So." Moment of truth. Was she kidding? If she was, could he play it off gracefully at all? And if she's not, can he... oh, boy. He really needs to not ever talk.

Unbeknownst to him, the entire time Tony's in the bathroom, Pepper fears and wonders about the same thing. Was he just joking? What if he was and she totally misread that and he just didn't want to tell her she got it all wrong? Oh, no. In her low-key freakout, she downs the nearly full glass of not-so-sparkling-now wine she'd had left in one go. And realizes that certainly wasn't the smartest thing to do. Liquid courage. More like liquid dumbness.

She sits up straighter on the couch when he arrives, legs tucked up underneath her and one hand grasping the top of the backrest. "So..." she echoes, feeling the flush of embarrassment creep up her throat. God, she's a mess. This is why she shouldn't drink. "W-we don't have to. I mean, if you don't want to, I get it."

He tilts his head like a lost puppy, which isn't so far off. Though he certainly hadn't premeditated what had just gone down -- the plan isn't without practicality. Bored and drunk and curious certainly factor in as well, however, and slowly he slides onto the cushion next to her. Not touching, but close enough to be very easily.

"I don't, uhm..." Tony takes a breath, tries to re-center himself. This is not at all how he pictured today going, but he isn't disappointed either. Not even close, really. "If you don't want to, I won't be offended." His eyes are clear as he meets hers, hands falling to his knees as he studies her face. The last thing he wants to do is take advantage, even if he's just as drunk as she is.

"Well," he interjects before she can respond, the slightest beginnings of a smile tugging at his lips. "Maybe a little."

I don't. She doesn't understand why it hurts so much, why it feels like a rejection of more than a stupid, drunken joke that it had to have been. She opens her mouth to offer some bumbling apology for being so presumptuous, but just then he goes on and it isn't to turn her down, after all. Breathing a faint laugh at his joke, she shakes her head a little with a tiny smile that has an edge of relief in it.

"No, I mean. I think we should... give it a try. So there's no surprises if we ever have to act like that in public." That made sense, right? She wets her lips, swallowing. "Or just around... others."

Not like Tony had a habit of having a house full of guests though, as far as she knew. But it's not the point.

"Right," he says, blissfully unaware of the heartache his misstep had caused. "I mean, it would only be... prudent." As prudent as drunken make-outs can be?? His heart is thumping fast, and he leans forward a little, unsure how to begin a kiss that's been prenegotiated.

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