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

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?

That noise is so sweet, and her returning touch has the muscles over his ribs tensing up, biting his lip against a sound of his own. He loves being with her like this, enough so that he's almost dreading her waking up and putting an end to it, as selfish as he recognizes that to be. He knows he can't be imagining how much she's enjoying this too, even if she isn't fully awake yet, which only adds to his conflict.

It takes him a full second to process the word, and he's honestly a bit startled at first. Bt when he really picks apart her tone, he has to laugh; a warm, full tone that rumbles in his chest. She isn't talking to him, and he couldn't find it more endearing. "You tell 'em," he encourages, brushing her bangs off her forehead idly.

Pepper grumbles under her breath some more, nothing really sensible, just errant noises of displeasure even though she adores the sound of his laughter, rumbling through his chest in a way she can feel as well as hear. Her eyes are still firmly closed and she remains unmoving aside from grasping a light handful of his shirt at his side. Really, she's very content to stay here for the whole day, without drawing attention to the fact. Nights are the only time they can be close like this without rationalizing it, without looking for reasons; except with Doom caught, their charade was coming to an end. Maybe this was their last night together, already? The thought makes something unpleasant prick at the back of her mind, so she's gladly rejecting morning as long as she can. Never mind it's probably inching closer to noon by now. "Mornings are stupid. Let's not wake up."

Edited 2016-08-31 18:08 (UTC)

He takes in a breath sharply when she grabs his shirt, as welcome as it is he hadn't expected it. If she's as eager to live in denial as him then all the better, her utterance only cementing that feeling in his mind. "Done deal," he agrees with a soft sigh, though the more she comes around the more he does become conscious of his body's predicament. Usually he would have run away by now, but since they're both avoiding real life, it's only becoming more apparent what else wants to join the party. He tries to think it away, but with her pressed so closely it really is a lost cause.

The more she comes around the more aware of his predicament she becomes, too. She'd noted it only as a sort of hazy afterthought before, as just a biological function that tends to happen-- but though she tries to doze some more, she can't quite manage it any longer, and thus the firm ridge pressing into her hip becomes an actual, fully formed concern. And it seems to turn all the more pressing as the moments pass by. O-oh. She's not sure how to handle this. Ignore it? Or move away from him? That doesn't appeal to her at all, though.

"...Am I making you uncomfortable?" she forges after a moment, a smile evident in her still somewhat sleepy tone.

He laughs, just one bark of a nervous thing, but he too finds no reason to move away. Uncomfortable. Is she making fun of him? Usually, but this feels -- different. Kind of good different. "That's not exactly the word I'd use," he admits, voice a bit husky unintentionally, and lips close by her ear.

"No? Then what word would you use?" she can't help but counter on a tiniest breath of laughter, playfully teasing; though the shiver that courses down her spine at his low voice in her ear is definitely no joking matter.

Heat rises to his face at that, though he can't say it's surprising. Pepper always challenges him, it's something he actually appreciates about her the most. "Compromised." It's almost instant, and said with his usual unplanned, blurting manner. When he really thinks over what that word means, it probably wasn't one he was supposed to use. It feels like a serious sort of reveal, though certainly she must know already how attracted he is to her?

It's kind of an odd word to use to describe the situation; if one doesn't look under the surface. Pepper can't help but do just that, somehow knowing he doesn't mean just now, this moment and this position. It goes further than that. Her heart skips, before fluttering wildly in her chest like a caged bird. Unbidden, some color rises to her cheeks, too, though she doesn't lift her head off his chest to reveal that. Her eyes are open now though, her fingers curling gently further into the soft cotton fisted in her grasp. "Is that... a bad thing?" she finally asks softly and quietly, a tiny bit hesitantly, after a long moment.

His skin prickles faintly at the feeling of her tugging at his shirt a bit, biting into his lip for how that doesn't help his situation at all. It's pleasant though, and it is encouraging too how she still isn't moving away; but then that question comes. Even Tony knows answering will put himself out there all too baldly, and he really is terrified of being let down by this... whole predicament. If she's asking at all, though, logic would dictate she may be a little compromised herself. He sighs, his hand gently moving up her back to lightly tangle in her hair. It seems like a long time passes in silence, and he hopes she doesn't think he's ignoring her, but for once he has to carefully sculpt a reply, knowing how delicate a situation it truly is.

"I don't know," he begins, sounding more than a little frustrated with himself. He knows it isn't bad which is why he's quick to gloss over his first statement, but he doesn't know if it's good, exactly. In context. It's complicated. "What I do know is... that I like spending time with you. We can still hang out now that... all of this is over, right?" He pulls back just the tiniest bit to try and catch her eye, though maybe this particular moment wasn't a good time to have this conversation -- he never was good at timing.

She breathes a silent sigh when his hand tangles softly in her hair, her eyes fluttering shut for a second at the wonderful sensation. His silence doesn't bother her, knowing it isn't a simple question; she wouldn't be certain how to answer it truthfully, either. Which makes putting him on the spot like that a little mean, perhaps, but she is interested in gauging his viewpoint. Physical attraction is all well and good, but it isn't enough in the long run... not that she's consciously thinking about the long run. But. In case, or something.

Only once she's fairly sure the impromptu blush on her cheeks has receded does she tip her head up, resting her chin on his chest even if it makes it a little hard to catch his gaze and smiling widely. "Of course we can. I'd like that."

When she fixes that smile on him, he suddenly feels like his heart is swelling and might burst though his scientific mind helpfully supplies that that would be highly improbable. None of that ever seems to matter around Pepper when he knows what he feels, as scary as it is. His thumb grazes her cheek, completely forgetting about his problem below the waist in favor of how right this feels. This is a little extreme for 'hanging out' though, maybe. Not that she seems to mind.

"Okay," he says lamely, swallowing past a lump in his throat. "Cool."

Her lids flutter a little at the tender touch to her cheek, lips curving in a gentler smile now. "Cool," she echoes with a tinge of warm amusement in her tone. A moment of silence passes before she forges on, trailing off soon after. "So..." Now what? They're both wide awake-- Tony in more than one way. It's funny how she completely forgot his issue for a while, there. "Um. Breakfast?"

His breath stutters at her suggestion, blinking a few times before he finally gives up a nod. "Okay. Room service?" It's a bit hopeful, he's not exactly looking to be in a crowd of people right now. While he waits for her reply, he finds himself yet again falling into her eyes like some cheesy 90s love interest.

"Sounds good," Pepper answers belatedly with a gentle smile, seeming as distracted staring into his eyes as he is hers. A long moment passes before she realizes this probably means she needs to move -- breathing a slight sigh, she reluctantly begins pulling back from Tony's warmth, rolling on her back and further to lean over the edge of the bed, looking for something.

"What would you like?" she asks, reaching out a hand and just about managing to drag the room service menu off the side table she'd left it last night with her fingertips, snatching it up with a triumphant little noise before flopping back on the bed next to him to peruse it.

He notes how reluctant she is to pull away and immediately feels validated, though once she does break away somehow his issue becomes that much more prominent. He rolls off to the other side of the bed, giving up a little groan as he sits up with his feet dangling over the edge. "Waffles. And bacon. Lots of bacon."

"Okay," she says softly, glancing at his back at the groan and biting her lip. A beat later, she suggests, "You can have the shower first if you want it. I'll call our order in." Maybe that will calm down his... problem.

He flushes all over again, turning to catch her gaze over his shoulder though it's tempting to just run for the bathroom. "Hey thanks," he replies, getting up and shuffling his way across the room as fast as his body will allow anyway. He doesn't think about his robe or a change of clothes on his way past his suitcase, and in his hurry the door doesn't quite click shut behind him, still floating in the door frame. Tony throws his boxers and t-shirt in he vague direction of the hamper and hops into the shower stall without waiting for the water to heat up first. The initial blast of cold water gets a whimper from him, but his erection does wane a tiny bit.

By the time the water is warm, he realizes there will only be one way out of this, as had been the case too many mornings with Pepper before. He really can't in his life ever remember being so consumed by a woman. Not that his previous exploits have any bearing on the real world to be fair. He grasps his cock once he can put it off no longer, leaning back against the tile to keep himself up while images conjure themselves behind his eyelids. He feels bad thinking these things with her right in the other room, but surely she has to know how he's taking care of it.

Tony tries not to linger overmuch, but it's so tempting to let the fantasy drag on. Even if she says she wants to spend real time with him; even for how close they've gotten, he doesn't know what that means really. Is he being friend-zoned? Would he even know what that felt like if he were? All he knows is how much he doesn't want to go back to the way things were, and thinking back to making out on his couch he's not sure if he could just be friends either. Even though admittedly she had been a good one to him this past couple of weeks. The best, even.

He comes violently and almost catches himself by surprise, coating his hand and the tile in sticky evidence before it's stolen by the spray. "Pepper," he cries in relief, forgetting about volume control or echoing tiles in his moment of need. He makes quick work of pulling himself together after that, delighted to rid himself of the encumberance once and for all. (Until next time)

Cursorily washing himself and running some conditioner through his hair, he fjords out into the steamy fog of the room to find a towel. He rubs himself almost dry for a change, though he doesn't really bother with his hair which does drip almost enough to make up for it. It's gotten too long and he isn't great at dealing with it. He rushes through his morning routine, ending with brushing his teeth and securing the towel around his waist before making his way back out into the room. Running a hand back over his hair, he stops dead in his tracks when he sees her, realizing his mistake. He knows it shouldn't be a big deal, they've been living in close quarters for so long he forgets, but the towel doesn't cover much and now that he's locked eyes with her he feels frozen in place.

Pepper gives a quick, small smile in return as Tony begins making his way toward the shower before sitting up, eyeing the menu in her hand cursorily before sitting up and picking up the phone on the bedside table, letting her legs dangle off the bed. It isn't until a moment after room service picks up that Pepper realizes the splash of water against tile comes through a little too clearly from the bathroom, glancing over her shoulder to see the door ajar-- not enough to give her a view to the shower, but definitely enough to hear the way the water hits the tile haphazardly as he moves about in the stall. She blinks at the door a few times, losing track of her thoughts for a couple of seconds before turning her head back quickly as if she'd been caught doing something naughty, picking up the conversation with room service.

She gets through most of their order when she catches a noise through the rainfall of water; a soft one, and she thinks she imagined it. But then it happens again, and this time she definitely recognizes it for what it is. Caught off guard, she glances back toward the bathroom, wide-eyed and lips shaped into a circle. Oh god. Is Tony...? No really, is he in there, doing...? Yes, yes he is. She realizes the poor room service person is practically yelling to get her attention again and she stammers an apology, snapping her head back forward as a fierce blush overtakes her face, blundering her way through the rest of the order. It's not that she minds or is uncomfortable or anything, it's a reasonable solution to his issue. It's just--

"Pepper." She sucks in a sharp breath and squeaks out a hasty thanks and goodbye to room service, clumsily throwing down the receiver. Her cheeks are flaming now as that cry echoes in her ears, a quiver rippling across her belly. The realization hits home in a hot wave of undeniable excitement; Tony was in the shower touching himself while thinking about her. Just as she thinks she's calmed down and the flush on her cheeks receded, Tony returns and she flushes all over again, spying an errant droplet dropping from his hair and sliding down his chest. Oh, no, this is too unreal. She swallows thickly, throat suddenly dry. God, he's gorgeous.

"H-hey," she squeezes out after a prolonged moment of staring, pitchy and strangely breathless, heart thudding furiously in her chest. That relief-drenched shout comes back to haunt her, her pulse fluttering wildly at her throat. "Good... shower?"

She seems nervous, which is making him nervous, pushing a hand back through his hair though it does nothing -- the thick strands falling back forward over his forehead. "Sure," he says uncertainly, glancing from the phone and back to her face. Maybe her unease has nothing to do with him, he always was too quick to put things in his own orbit, something he knew could definitely be a flaw. "Everything okay on your end?" Concern mixed with self-consciousness here as he tilts his head and keeps a hand on the fold of his towel to prevent a wardrobe malfunction. That's just what he needs on a morning such as this.

Thinking that he should probably remedy that, he reluctantly breaks eye contact to turn away and stoop over his luggage, searching for clothes to wear for the day. He didn't pack much so it takes him a while to put something together, trying to keep in mind that they may not actually leave the room today. Which suits him fine, really. He's not looking forward to returning to reality and rebuilding his house yet again.

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