penistower | I'm prepared for this ✫ I never shoot to miss

"Very practical," Pepper settles on saying, wryly amused, though the logic cannot be denied. That bright-eyed look he gives her shakes her composure just a little, but she masks it by busying herself with perching on the edge of the bed and rearranging her robe so she's not parting over her thighs too much as she crosses her legs and reaches for her own ice cream.

Her throat goes a little dry as her gaze is drawn to those splotches of melty ice cream on his chest, and it suddenly really dawns on her that she's seeing more of his bare skin than she ever has. Swallowing, she quickly shifts her gaze to her own cup. "Ice cream as an appetizer is a thing more places should go for," she quips with a small smile, striving to sound light and breezy as she scoops a bit onto a spoon; it's just regular vanilla bean, but it hits the spot regardless.

He wipes the spots away with the back of his hand without losing rhythm with his own ice cream, or noticing Pepper's predicament. He hasn't stopped to think about how comfortable he is around her now or the fact that he would never have exposed the arc reactor to her before this little social experiment. "I'm pretty sure you mean 'everywhere.'" As much as he would usually wish for cookie dough, this is really hitting the spot right now, as evidenced by how quickly he finishes his bowl and scoops back up his glass of wine, sitting up and folding his legs underneath him. He needs a minute to recover before starting in on his burger, so instead he's taking to watching her quietly as he often does these days.

"Clearly," she returns on a little laugh, scooping up the last of her ice cream from the small cup and setting it aside. She feels his eyes on her but it's less bothersome these days, less likely to make her self-conscious than it is to comfort her. It's odd, but she doesn't examine it closer, instead following suit and sampling the wine with a quiet hum of satisfaction. "Quite nice," she deems, uncovering her tray and picking up a thick potato wedge off her plate to munch on with a happy little sigh. They've earned all the carbs tonight.

"Yeah," he agrees, reluctantly turning to his meal at last. "It is." Moreso, maybe, the company. It's times like this that he stresses over what it will be like when this charade is done. He'll have to navigate doing everything alone all over again and that seems terribly... well, lonely. With a light sigh, he starts munching on his fries as well, staring a bit listlessly into space as he dips them in ketchup and sets his empty wine glass down in favor of the burger. He's not as hungry as he thought he was, but it's still satisfying, and they've certainly earned it, but he can't stop his brain from turning over and over -- or from worrying about that big picture window behind them.

She spares a sweet little smile his way before focusing fully on her meal. For a moment there's just silence as both of them dig in, Pepper making a more decent dent into her burger than she'd expected in contrast to Tony. She sips on her wine as her brow furrows a little; she's learned to decipher Tony's silences by now, knowing the difference between an easy, comfortable one and the quietness that comes over him when he's obsessing or thinking hard about something. Not that such seriousness isn't warranted, they've had a rough night and Tony's property is being the ultimate price for it.

"Hey." She touches a hand softly to his bare knee, a hint of gentle concern bleeding in her voice as she asks quietly, "Are you okay?"

He starts a little at her touch, the muscles in his tummy tightening reflexively as his eyes jump to meet hers. Of course he's not okay, but she's the last person he wants to take out his frustration on. Slowly, though he's sure his expression betrays him, he nods a careful but silent 'yes.'

"Do you want to help me move the armoire in front of the window?" It's very serious and very earnest, said with a vulnerability he doesn't use around just anyone. And if she says 'no' he'll just try to move it by himself tbh. It isn't rational and a silly piece of hotel furniture isn't going to protect them, but he can't deal with sleeping next to all that glass tonight.

She realizes the moment the question is out of her mouth it was a poor choice of words. Who would be okay after everything that had happened? She drops her hand, mentally kicking herself a little. The question she receives in return catches her off guard, surprised and a bit baffled too, but only for a second. The vulnerability so evident on his face breaks her heart, knowing it takes a lot for him to show such an emotion to anybody; telling her just how perturbed he is. She couldn't possibly refuse, as irrational as the request is.

"Of course," she says quietly, nodding, setting aside her wine and getting up on her feet.

He lets go of a breath he didn't realize he'd been holding and moves to get up after her. Gratitude passes over his expression warmly as he brushes by her to one side of the cabinet, briefly opening it to make sure there's nothing inside. "Thanks," he says softly as he prepares to lift up his side.

She nods again with a quick, small smile, taking up the opposite end of the cabinet and finding a good grip on the piece. "Ready?" The thing is a little heavier than it looks and their progress is a bit staggering, but they get the cabinet in front of the window eventually. Pepper rubs her slightly aching palms once they're done, noting belatedly her robe gapes a bit too much thanks to the activity, the vee of the neckline dipping down to the valley between her breasts. "Um, let's draw the curtains while we're at it," she says, hurrying to close the front of her robe properly and nodding at the dark, heavy curtains hanging on either side of the window.

The only thing he can focus on is this task, as usual his attention drawn to a laserlike focus. Once done, he too wipes off his palms and steps aside to examine their progress. "Good idea," he agrees easily, though when he looks up his throat immediately goes dry. She has no right being so gorgeous, but he gets himself in check long enough to reach by her and grab either side of the curtains, pulling them snugly across the window. When he draws back again he finds himself once more in her orbit, simultaneously comforted and excited by the proximity.

With the view of cityscape below blocked, it feels immediately more intimate in the room; just the two of them in this limited space. Silence descends over them as Tony returns to her side -- Pepper gives a smile, small and warm but a little uncertain too, one hand still clutching the lapels of her robe together at her throat. She's suddenly not sure what to say, both of them caught in this moment. A beat passes and she clears her throat gently.

"I'm going to..." she trails off, motioning a bit toward the bathroom with her free hand. "Be right back." Stopping by her bag to pick up something to sleep in, she retreats into the small room, the air there still humid from their showers. A moment later, the whir of the hotel hairdryer can be heard through the door.

He holds his breath until she finishes her sentence, finding himself nodding though it is far from necessary. Once she's out of earshot he sighs and moves over to his own bag to retrieve a t-shirt. As he hangs up his robe, he has to make a face at the red stain he'd made on the inside, patting his all but useless bandaid to make sure it's still on before pulling on a ratty Eagles shirt and making his way back to bed. He doesn't have the energy to wait for her to get out so he can go through his own routine, instead opting to slip under the covers on "his" side and stare up at the ceiling, uncharacteristically still and quiet.

To Pepper's dismay, most of her toiletries are still taking up space in Tony's bathroom back at the tower -- she hadn't had the state of mind to think of grabbing them before leaving. Neither is she completely happy with the choices of sleepwear left in her bag, but the things she'd been wearing when the attack happened are now hopelessly wrinkled and dirtied. Finishing drying her hair, she desperately wishes she had a proper brush on her, running her fingers through the worst tangles and smoothing down the strands; it's not all that bad, thankfully. With a slight wince, she slips on the snug tank top and cotton shorts -- very comfortable, but she would have preferred something that covered a bit more. Oh, well. It's not like Tony hasn't seen women in less, before, and she's just too tired to care now. Stepping out of the bathroom, Pepper can't help but smile just a little at the sight of Tony already in bed.

"Tired?" she asks sympathetically, grabbing the cart of food and wheeling it out of the door and into the hallway. She'd rather not attempt sleep with the sweet smell of stale fries next to her.

He smiles up at her, watching as she wheels out their cart and comes back carefully -- just in case. It's neurotic but it's not like he minds keeping such close tabs on her so he gives himself a pass for that much.

"Exhausted." Too exhausted to sleep, probably, but he won't bother her with that. She must be just as tired.

She closes the door and latches the chain for good measure too, something she wouldn't normally bother with but with Tony so clearly on edge about these things, she figures it might not go amiss.

"Me, too," she agrees on a sigh, flicking off the main light so only the bedside lamps remain lit, grabbing them each a complimentary bottle of water before trudging over to her side of the bed, placing one bottle on her nightstand and giving the other to Tony as she climbs in, slipping her bare legs under the covers.

Nodding in thanks, he pops the bottle, untouched onto his nightstand and shuts out his light. When he lays back down it's facing towards her, one hand tucked under his pillow. "Comfy?" he asks, barely audible even in the quiet room.

Pepper flicks off her own light and flops down on her back, closing her eyes as her head hits the pillow, one hand on her belly and the other lying next to her head, palm upward. She pulls in a deep breath and releases it slowly in a long sigh. "Mmhmm," she hums in contented agreement with a tiny smile playing about the corner of her lips. The blue-white light from Tony's reactor penetrates through her closed lids some, but it's long since stopped bothering her; if anything, it's kind of comforting.

He's grateful for the reactor, studying her features in the darkness. It always puts him at ease when she finally allows herself to relax, knowing so often that they're both running on fumes. The wine is making his mind a little hazy, but it isn't enough to stop it from turning over; from obsessing. He tries not to let it bother him, tracing each familiar inch of her face with his gaze. Almost a full thirty seconds pass before he blurts something out in a characteristic fashion -- taking himself aback, but letting it hang in the air as before, not daring to take it back. "Can I hold you?"

Sleep is beginning to creep about the edges of her consciousness, but she's still aware of his gaze. That used to make her self-conscious too, how he'd study her face like this when they went to bed, but no longer. At the question, she opens her eyes slowly and tips her head to look over at him a bit sleepily, lids fluttering a little at the reactor's light. She thinks he probably didn't mean to say that, but at the same time she can't really deny in her sleepy state that it would be nice to be held. They were liable to end up cuddling sometime during the night regardless. "Okay," she murmurs with a tiny nod, waiting for him to make the first move.

Tony almost didn't expect her to answer, and he takes in a sharp breath when she does. Not pausing to think it over, he scoots his way closer, his heart hammering loudly by the time he's in her space. Catching her eyes from this distance is so much more intimate, but he reasons to himself in the same way that they'll end up this close whenever he falls asleep anyway. Tentatively despite the mental coaching, he reaches out for her side, gently gripping her side before the other arm wraps around her securely. Just like that, it's like a weight has been lifted off his chest and like his world is right side up again. He presses his face against her shoulder and holds a little tighter, trying to mimic the position they end up in by morning by also tangling their legs.

She struggles with herself as he scoots closer, only barely managing to restrain her gaze from dropping from his eyes down to his lips. She shifts a little herself to accommodate him, the hand previously laying on her belly now lightly grasping his arm. Butterflies take flight and flutter wildly in her stomach as their legs tangle, bare skin sliding over bare skin; she suppresses a gasp at the sensation. It's exciting but moreover it's pleasant and comforting, the added warmth of his body against hers lulling her further. She tips her head a bit toward his, her nose nudging his forehead, eyes closing once more. "Good night," she mumbles sleepily, already halfway under.

It's difficult not to react himself, realizing what a difference their bare legs make in this equation. "Night, Pepper," he murmurs in reply, lips glancing her throat with the words. It's simultaneously easier and harder to think about sleep from this position, but he's content to let her fall asleep first, as it usually happens. It helps that this hotel room has much less distraction than his house, but being close to her like this makes a big difference as well. His eyelashes flutter against her skin as he finally gives into the lull himself, suddenly dropping off when before he'd been concerned about being up for hours yet, obsessing about Doom. Now he's confident his dreams will be pleasant, and once asleep he only has cause to squeeze her tighter and move even closer into their embrace.

She hums a tiny sound at the response, throat flexing a little at the soft brush of his lips. It's easy to drop off soon after, her breathing evening and body growing yet more pliant, fingers loosening their light hold on Tony's arm even if her hand doesn't move away. Perpetually getting chilled during the night, Pepper similarly has no qualms about snuggling nearer to him still, seeking more of that lovely warmth his body exudes. Early morning creeps closer and closer, finding them pressed as close as two people can, Pepper's head pillowed on Tony's arm, one slim leg slipped between his thighs while the other hooks around his opposite ankle as is to anchor him right there.

As always, Tony wakes all at once, as if being violently yanked out of subconscious dreamland. He's used to sleeping in the same bed with her, enough that he's careful not to dislodge or wake her when he suddenly finds himself awake. The whole room is light despite the dark curtains so it must be later in the day than he's used to, but the rest is startingly similar by now. It takes a few moments to remember the difference, though, and that being that they'd consciously decided to take comfort from one another before sleep. Even though their positioning isn't new, the way they got there is and he's surprised to find it makes an even greater impact on the involuntary reactions of his body. He isn't any stranger to sporting some morning wood, and he had long since stopped concerning himself with it around Pepper. Not to say that there isn't still some awkwardness, but he's still reluctant to admit why that is -- even to himself.

Instead of worrying about it, Tony focuses on how good it feels to be wrapped up in her this way. He shifts his leg so their thighs rest comfortably together, then wriggles his arm out from under her head in the most gentle way he can, instead directing her to lay her head against his chest. He's learned that it takes her a long time to come around, so he may as well get out of this what he can. His arm prickles, numb from being trapped under her, but he runs his palm up and down against the fabric of her tanktop, rubbing her back until he regains feeling in the apendage. Also impulsively, he drops a kiss to her temple before resting his chin gently there as though he could keep her safe.

She stirs a little and pulls in a deep breath through her nose when Tony shifts her, but doesn't wake properly; if anything, she's all too happy to rest against his chest now, rubbing her cheek against cotton-covered skin before stilling again with a contented, almost kittenish sound, relaxing further at the way his palm strokes up and down her back; her own hand strokes up his side in an unconscious caress before going lax and useless against his flank. She dozes lightly, still more asleep than not, but consciousness slowly starts to emerge, urged on by the light in the room and some instinct that her bedfellow is awake. But it feels so ridiculously nice and good and safe and warm to just lay here in his arms she doesn't want to get up ever-- nor think about just why she feels so around him.

"No," she grumbles softly without opening her eyes, almost grumpily, finding herself mostly awake now and protesting the very fact. Who invented mornings, anyway?

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