penistower | ▼ let's perform our favorite little scene ▼

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▼ let's perform our favorite little scene ▼

Some time after their shaving date, Tony throws his robe on and makes his way out into the kitchen while Steve gets dressed. He's almost surprised to see Pepper for a moment before he remembers it's the weekend. Since the "incident" he hadn't been the greatest at keeping track of time. He hadn't seen her much either, something he realizes now even as he bee-lines to her side and gently kisses the side of her face. She had called him homeless in the brief moments he'd seen her after returning from D.C. and his impromptu trip to meet the woman who could connect all the pieces, but was ironically unable to -- hindered by an incapacitating mental disease and her own age.

He and Pepper hadn't spoken about it. Before or after. Sometimes he knew he frustrated her with not talking about these things, but it was too difficult and too fresh. Steve and himself had glossed over the parts that included them together, but he didn't dare speak of what she'd said about his father. He wanted to keep it close to his chest for as long as possible, even if he knew that they'd eventually get it out of him.

As he gets his coffee, he thinks about how very lucky he is. Those nights she had driven him to Steve's apartment so he could burn both ends getting the security system good to go before the super soldier woke up. And then after he'd brought Steve back here, how he'd all but disappeared into Steve's room the entire time. He knows Pepper understands how important this is to him, but it was also never his intention to neglect her. At the same time, he's glad he has another outlet for the nightmares now; that he doesn't have to put her at risk.

Tony leans against the counter with the mug in his hands and just watches her a moment, wondering which one of them will break the silence. Maybe she'll notice his beard first, or he'll say something stupid and unrelated. Or they'll both mention the same bit of news. It's always a dance with them, that is, when they're even around each other mornings. They don't exactly keep to the same schedule these days.

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Pepper's already been awake for a while, dressed casually in a sage green henley and yoga pants, hair in a low-hanging tail at the nape of her neck. Too casually to indicate any plans of leaving the Tower, looking forward to a free weekend barring any emergencies. Preoccupied by fixing her own cup of coffee, she doesn't take her eyes off of the task as Tony steps up to her side, but she does tilt her head into the kiss and murmurs a quiet good morning.

Pepper is blessed with more patience than the average person, but sometimes it was exhausting to be so understanding. It wasn't that she begrudged the time Tony spent with Steve, at all. She loves Steve, had been as adamant about having him over after he'd been injured as Tony, worried for the soldier as well as Tony's mental health, to be quite honest. And if sleepovers with Steve kept Tony's nightmares at bay, she hardly had anything to complain about. As much as she would do anything for Tony in a heartbeat, there were some things she simply couldn't provide or understand the same way Steve could.

On other hand, Tony had a deep-seated habit of keeping the things that mattered to himself, and that in turn left a lot of room for her to wonder and worry, privately. And it was never easy to see the person you loved the most in distress and be unable to do much to help. So she tried to focus on the practical things that she could do; give him rides at insane hours if needed, keep his company running smoothly so he didn't have to concern himself over that (not that he often did). At the end of the day, the thing that mattered was the well-being of both men.

Even if part of her wonders if she'd sleep a night in the same bed with Tony again in the near future. She knew herself better than to expect she wouldn't push for answers about everything that had been going on at some point -- she only hopes she can do it with due consideration and discretion.

But right now, she simply glances up from her coffee and remarks teasingly, "Looking less like an unwashed hobo today, I see. Always an improvement."

The grin is immediate, taking up his whole face even as he hides it behind a long swig of coffee. "You like?" he asks, running a hand over his goatee experimentally. "Steve was nervous he wouldn't get it right."

He knew Pepper knew how close he'd gotten to Steve recently, but it was another unspoken fact. Just something he did and carefully observed for her protest, but none ever came. He knows, too, that she knows he has a difficult time trusting, never mind a man who had once been so close to his father. But things are different now; he's seen past the Captain America visage and Steve has stopped comparing him to Howard. They've both grown, and their friendship had grown because of it.

Tony's eyes run appreciatively over Pepper's yoga pants, absently biting his lip in between another sip. He had once thought she couldn't possibly look hotter than she already did, but Pepper in yoga pants and sweats? She was a walking wet dream. It's only as he gets caught up in what he's thinking that he looks away, realizing it had been more than a few nights since he'd been to bed with her -- even just to sleep.

"Miss you," he says, impulsively, even though he knows it's all his fault.

She pauses at that abrupt confession, her expression softening with compassion. She misses him too. Not only in her bed and her arms -- his absence from both making sharper the twinge she feels at that look he gives her she doesn't miss -- but by her side in general. They've been in each other's pockets one way or another for so long that it feels odd to... not be, so much. But she isn't going to say any of that aloud, knowing Tony already feels guilty. Adding to that seems counterproductive. You'll know where to find me is dismissed too. It comes with a silent expectation she isn't going to hang over his head.

"Well." Tenderly, she strokes the backs of her fingers over the side of his face. "Here I am."

Right here and right now, he didn't need to miss her. Her gentle smile turning more toward playful, she goes on, "And I do like, by the way. You should give that job to Steve, he seems to do a better job at it than you do, yourself."

Well, she wouldn't go quite that far, but Steve didn't do a bad job. Teasing is just her way of diverting the conversation from turning toward a direction too serious for an hour this relatively early in the morning. Besides, she only picks on those she likes, and she likes Tony a lot.

Closing his eyes briefly at the touch, he only leans into it, expression softer than it might even usually be around her. He knew she was here; knew it very well. There's still a part of him that doesn't want to burden her with any of it. If he cried on Steve he could still be brave for her. He knows that's not how it works, but he's trying. Trying not to be so selfish.

"He thinks I hire someone to come in and do it for me -- he didn't believe me when I said it wasn't insured." The word is laden with much amusement, tipping forward so he could press his forehead against hers. She was so patient with all of his dumb idiosyncracies, it really was something to behold. With all three of them in house - Cap, Pepper and Bruce - he's not sure he could feel more looked after or even if it were possible. He feels, for the first time in his life, like he really has a family.

A home to fit them all in.

Tony's hand comes up to her hip, bracing as he takes another sip of coffee and sets the cup down. "Did I tell you he's on Twitter now?" There's obvious pride in his voice, like they're discussing their eldest child.

Edited (WHY ARE PRONOUNS SO HARD ) 2014-08-22 22:32 (UTC)

It's a good thing for Tony that despite knowing almost everything that goes on everywhere, Pepper doesn't actually have the power to read minds. Otherwise she would've already cuffed him upside the head for thinking about it like that, because there's not being selfish and there's not letting her help.

She can't help but laugh softly at that -- it is pretty cute -- and tips her head to meet Tony halfway, eyelids pulling down a little at the familiar intimacy of the gesture. "Well, you gotta admit, it sounds like something you might do. Once upon a time, at least."

Back when he was more into making sure everyone knew just how rich and eccentric he could be. The change on topic into Steve's Twitter causes her to blink, pulling her head back a little.

"Oh, Tony, you didn't." She rolls her eyes in mild exasperation, though there's something reluctantly amused in her expression too. As long as it didn't involve anything irreversibly stupid or unsafe, she had a lot of leeway when it came to humoring Tony's antics. But that doesn't mean she won't call him out on them. "You made him an account, didn't you?"

He shrugs in placid agreement to her assessment: he might have done that sort of thing once. Now he's a much more down to earth version of himself. As down to earth as Iron Man can be, especially when he's going on crazy suicide missions in outer flipping space. And really, as humble and toned down as Tony himself could ever be. Still not very by any normal standard, but no one could deny he'd come a long way.

"Oh, but I did. We live-tweeted Frozen." This had actually been about two days ago, before he'd left to see Peggy. His grip tightens without him noticing, nose brushing against her cheek. "You don't even follow me, do you?"

It's hard to sound offended even if that had been what he was going for. If he were dating him he probably wouldn't follow himself either. He's almost as obnoxious as the Tony of old on that thing. Just for appearances though, obviously.

Wait. "Do you have twitter?" He couldn't honestly recall in that moment, one eyebrow lifting as he pulled back an inch.

"Did you cry? I bet you did." It's an idle, halfhearted effort at best, though, definitely not her best work and quickly forgotten in the face of Tony's accusation that has her desperately trying to stifle an amused smirk.

"Last I checked you had millions and millions of followers already," she counters lightly. "Even if I did have an account -- and I'm not saying I do..."

She pauses to grab her own coffee from the counter and take a sip. She does in fact totally have a twitter account. vpotts, officially verified and everything, but her Mona Lisa smile gives nothing away. Which is a clue in and of itself, really.

"I already get to enjoy your delightful antics enough at home not to warrant a flood of the same in digital form, thank you." She sounds so pleasant, that can't be sarcasm at all! She'll follow Steve's twitter the moment she gets a hold of her phone, though, ohhoho.

It doesn't take Steve long to dress even while still minding his nearly healed injuries. He had taken the time to pull his things together with the exception of his painting of Peggy. Steve doesn't want to risk damaging that on the train. He'll just have to mail it over to his place later. There's no way he could move it safely by bike either even if that wasn't back in Brooklyn at the moment.

When he goes to meet in the kitchen, Steve intends to say that much as well as thank them for their hospitality. No, of course he wouldn't ask for coffee or think to eat. He fully intends to head all the way back home alone on an empty stomach with as many thank yous on his way out that he can manage. Of course once he actually enters the scene he can tell they're having a moment and yeah he's going to quietly slip away.

No one noticed him walking around with a shield strapped to his back throughout Europe unless he wanted them to in the 40s. Why should Stark Tower be any different? He'll just give them a call once he's back home.

Tony leans in, a retort dying on his lips as a flash of red white and blonde blurs past his field of vision. Is that good-for-nothing -- He can't even finish the thought he's unwinding himself from Pepper so fast, almost knocking her coffee out of her hand in the process.

"Are you serious right now?" Okay, he hadn't actually meant that to sound angry, so he's taking a few steps forward and softening his tone back to something easier. A joke, almost, but he's clearly already worked up. "I shaved your face. Did that mean nothing to you?"

It's over-the-top drama, Tony Stark trademark, but there's an edge to his voice that's very obviously sincere. Steve is seriously just going to try to bust out of here without so much as a goodbye. What a jerk.

It's only the change in Tony's expression and her honed reflexes that save Pepper from suddenly wearing her coffee, taking half-step back. Blinking in momentary bewilderment, she takes in the scene; Tony's hissyfit and Steve's sudden appearance, looking very much like he's going somewhere.

Ah.

Well, no, that won't do at all. Rolling her eyes slightly at Tony's melodramatics, she touches her free hand to his arm in halfhearted effort to calm him down, even as she directs her words to Steve.

"What Tony means to say is good morning," she smiles pleasantly. "Well, I hope trying to sneak out without so much as goodbyes isn't indicative of us being bad hosts. Won't you please come at least have some coffee before you go?"

She may be more tranquil than Tony, but she's not perfect and therefor not above shaming Steve into staying a bit longer. Baby steps.

Steve freezes. He must be off from all that resting. He used to walk through whole bases like this without being noticed. He does raise an eye brow at the tone and the dramatics. Can't Tony see he's trying not to ruin their moment? Why did he go and spoil it for himself? He can hardly explain that with Pepper right there. Somehow it'd be awkward despite the fact she is the other half that partnership.

Instead he directs his attention and words towards Pepper. Maybe her reasonable response will rub off on him. "Ms. Potts, no I promise that's not it. You've both been incredibly generous. I just thought I'd give you both some space." He smiles somewhat awkwardly. Yeah that moment is definitely lost. "I can stay for coffee if you'd like." He makes it a point to glance Tony's way when he says it. Don't be mad? He really is looking out for you.

"We'd like," he says flatly, not even looking back at Pepper. He's not angry, but it's manifesting itself that way in his body language. He's actually hurt. He thought after all Steve and himself had been through together, this kind of stuff wouldn't go down this way, but he was wrong. Tony really hates being wrong.

When he turns to Pepper, the facade cracks a little. She'll know instantly what he's thinking, but he doesn't speak a word of it, going instead to pour Steve a cup begrudgingly.

"And if I'm Tony now, bud, I'm pretty sure she's Pepper. Just saying."

Pepper's expression remains placidly neutral, but inwardly she's frowning at the exchange happening here, spoken and otherwise. She can't help but bear some responsibility over the poor start to this, considering she suspects Steve wouldn't have been trying to sneak out had it just been Tony alone. Which is silly and Steve's intention to give them space was well-meant, but regardless. She knows Tony is at his prickliest when his feelings have truly been hurt, but of course she isn't going to say anything of it, merely meeting his eyes in passing as he busies himself with getting Steve his coffee.

"We have space aplenty," she dismisses shortly, smiling. "And Tony's right, you really should just call me Pepper."

He feels like a jerk. He really doesn't see a way out of this just yet. It's still too awkward to simply explain himself despite that being the obvious solution. The best he can do is set down his bag somewhere it can't be tripped over and correct himself where he can. Steve forces a smile. "Pepper it is."

He goes to grab a seat, shield coming off his back in one quick movement to settle down next to him. He can have it in his hand in a second if he needs it, which he doubts he will, but old habits die hard. It's something to do that doesn't involve feeling bad he hurt Tony's feelings by mistake.

Tony sets the mug down in front of Cap, leaning over the counter towards him rather than taking a seat by him. He remembered too well how the other man had reacted when he'd accidentally gotten between him and the shield. "If you are going to take off, I can send you in a car." Like a normal person. God, Steve.

He takes a sip of his own coffee despite it going a bit cold and tries to beat down the rising tide of his exasperation. This is how Pepper must feel every day, wow. She really is a saint.

Tony has no idea. Sipping from her own cup, Pepper diverts her scrutiny at Tony's remark toward Steve, frowning a little with rising concern.

"Really-- oh no, tell me you weren't going to take the train? Carrying all your things? You're still in recovery." Yes, he's being treated to her motherhenning, now. "Are you sure wouldn't stay for a few more days? It's not like we don't have the space, and we love having you here."

Steve looks between the two. He's about to reject the offer when Pepper correctly catches onto him. "Yeah that was the plan." He takes a sip of his coffee. The motherhenning is unexpected. He looks a little shy in response to it once he sets the mug back down.

He ducks his head and shrugs. "I always assumed when I was able to move around again, it'd be time to head back. This was supposed to be an alternative to the hospital. I'm pretty sure I'm well enough to discharge at this point." He doesn't comment on whether or not he wants to stay or not because short answer he does, but at times he does feel like a burden. It just seems easier to go back to his place now that he's capable.

Tony narrows his eyes, but thankfully most of his aggravation has moved on. If only because Steve is seriously stupid and he wants to tell him how. He has to be nice about it with Pepper here, though, not that he wanted to be mean exactly. Less gentle, though, definitely.

He shoves his coffee aside and leans onto his elbows. "You know you don't actually -- need to be discharged, right?" Tony had hinted, but hadn't outright asked, and now that he's thinking about it Steve was probably too thick to actually consider it unless it was laid out for him. "Ever, I mean."

Pepper shakes her head to herself a little, peering down into her coffee and rolling her lips into her mouth, trying to choke back the amused smile that wants to spread there. She's starting to get a clearer picture as to what's going on here, honestly a little surprised it took her this long.

What a pair of boobs. They'd deserve to fumble around with this non-issue for longer, really.

"Maybe a little less on the implication you'll put the place on lockdown if he tries," she tells Tony, blatant amusement now edging her tone. Looking at Steve, she confirms, "But Tony's right, you don't. You'd be more than welcome to stay as long as you'd like, so really, don't feel obligated to clear out just yet."

Steve blinks twice. He knows what he means, but wow is that ever easy to misinterpret. "Pepper has a point. I feel kind of threatened, Tony." Maybe now isn't the right time to poke fun, but if Pepper is going to be amused about this he feels okay joining in. That is of course until she confirms what he's saying. He takes another sip of coffee to stall for time. He honestly doesn't know how to answer this.

Steve settles on something safe and sets the mug down again. "They're probably not going to let me go back to work for another week at least barring any world ending catastrophes. I wouldn't mind spending it here."

He snorts, replaying his own words in his head and shaking it. They both knew what he meant, but they also both had a penchant for making fun of him, so he's not going to complain - especially since Steve is doing what they want him to do like a good boy.

"Pepper wants to follow you on Twitter," Tony says, like that's a response to the conversation.

Pepper beams a little at Steve's response, happy that was settled so relatively painlessly. Though she's used to Tony's off-color topic changes, even she's a little thrown by the sudden reappearance of Twitter. But a second later she shrugs one shoulder instead of rolling her eyes, lips pulling toward one side of her face in a wordless yeah actually.

"I'll follow you when I get to my phone," she tells Steve, nodding and giving him the A-ok sign with the hand not holding her coffee cup, thumb and forefinger curled into a circle. On a stage-whisper, she adds, jabbing a thumb toward Tony, "Not this one, though."

He stares at Tony for a moment. Steve doesn't know how Twitter got into this. Is this like the Shawarma thing? He just got his mind stuck on something and the next thing Steve knew everyone was playing along including him? Pepper seemed to joining in too. Of course the added whisper makes him grin outright. He raises the coffee to his lips again and whispers loudly over it.

"Yeah I read some of his twitter feed. You're making the right decision." He'll just drink ever so casually. Steve is the very image of innocence.

"Ganging up isn't cool, guys," he says on an amused breath even if he and Pepper had been doing just as much not a few seconds earlier. He allows the relief to settle over his chest, tossing an expectant look over his shoulder at his... wife. Yeah, basically.

"Breakfast?"

"You're telling me," Pepper says to Steve, tone wry and knowing even as an amused smirk tugs at her corner of her mouth, blithely ignoring Tony's protest. She does, however, nudge Tony affectionately with a warm smile as she beelines to the fridge, agreeing with his suggestion.

"Breakfast. Want some waffles?" To start with, at least. Throwing a look back at Steve, she informs him lightly, "Steve, I'm making waffles. You're having some, too."

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