st_arkintern | (no subject)

"No! I mean, who wouldn't want to see Thor bench pressing Iron Man?"

Tony buried his face in his hand, cackling uncontrollably. It wasn't hard to see he was flushed from more than just the many, many drinks he'd loaded his heavy mind with. "Stop, stop, Pete. You're gonna kill me. That's a little..."

"I'm serious," Peter protests. "The visual in my head is really ridiculous. I wanna see it in-person."

"That's a bad idea." Tony wiped at his mouth, trying to calm the giggles. Clearing his throat, his forearm smacked the counter. "He's not all brute strength."

Peter looks skeptical.

"I'm pretty sure I could bench press you, and I don't have Thor strength."

“Y-Yeah, I know. Not what I meant.” Tony waved Peter off, clearly passionate about this point. “He’s sensitive. Surprisingly deep thinker.”

Suddenly the pieces begin to click into place and Peter's not sure if the picture he's being presented with reflects reality at all.

Especially because Tony was with Pepper.

Still, he knew people who were married who were with other people here because they didn't know when or if they'd return.

But how is he supposed to broach this topic? If he's wrong, then he's probably going to die of embarrassment.

"You really seem to like Thor," Peter ventures carefully.

"We have our ups and downs." Tony shrugged.

"Yeah, but it mostly sounds like you like him."

Peter looks at Tony's glass of water. He hasn't drank a lot of it, but that doesn't stop Peter from adding a few ice cubes and topping it off.

He sets the drink in front of Tony.

"Do you?"

"I...ha." Somewhere in the background some crooning vocal jazz began. Tony couldn't catch the lyrics in his fuzzy brain, but the beat was incredibly familiar. His attention was split between trying to make sense of the lyrics and finding the right words to answer Peter's question.

Suddenly, it came together.

"I've got him under my skin."

Peter wishes Liz was here so she could just confirm what he's sure is going on here. He isn't sure why he's second guessing himself. Especially since Tony has all but said it.

"Um," Peter says uncertainly. "How long have you guys been friends?"

He's not sure if Tony is going to get what kind of friends he's referencing while he's like this. Tony seems kind of loopy when he's had a few too many drinks.

Tony blinked again, and slowly. Now that he could follow the lyrics, he was lost in them. Music had always been an outlet--this time, for comfort, even in the longing it induced.

Use your mentality,
Wake up to reality.

"I dunno. We're not."

Peter's not sure if he's talking about friends or friends right now.

He's going to defer to the latter because you couldn't be friends if you arent friends.

"Don't you guys hang out a lot? It seems weird that you hang out with him but don't consider him a friend."

"Avengers business. Hard on any relationship, Pete. That's all." Tony pushed his glass across the counter, signalling the need for some more water. He was far from sober, but he could stave off heartbreak and a headache this way. "Don't worry about it. We'll reach some kind of understanding."

That much, he felt confident of. Even if it was purely as allies. The last week of static silence had confirmed his deepest doubt. Maybe it melodramatic and he'd resisted fully buying in, but there was just something missing. Something important that he needed to offer his loved ones but couldn't.

The job came first. It would always come first. Now knowing his future, he couldn't even commit to his future with Pepper.

It was probably better this way. Tony smiled at Peter again. "Seriously."

Peter fills Tony's glass yet again. Tony's explanation might have given Peter a better idea why Tony was reluctant to talk about Avengers stuff earlier.

It may have had nothing to do with Tony thinking he was a kid.

And if there was anything Peter was sure of from this exchange, it was that they had probably been together at some point.

Peter sets the water down on the bar and pushes it towards Tony.

"So when are you going to talk to him?"

"I don't know. What would I tell him?" Tony laughed again, nodding in appreciation for the water. The world seemed to be fading away, and it was as if he was having a conversation with his own conscience. He was in an entirely different state of being--the kind of version of himself that could express himself without the several layers of sarcasm and frigidity that composed his outer shell.

"That--That I wish I'd been a better teammate. A better half. That I could detach myself enough from what's looming up in the sky to remember what I've got here on earth for two goddamn seconds."

Peter's never seen Tony this vulnerable before, and he's disarmed by it. It takes him a moment to find the words, and then another to open his mouth and actually say it. Even as he begins speaking he's not sure if it's the right thing to say to him, or if any of it is going to make sense.

"You're worried, right? I don't know what helps for you because everybody is different, but... when Ned first found out I was Spider-Man, I was freaked out. But later on, I ended up just feeling relieved that I had someone to talk to. I didn't have someone I could talk to about it for a long time." Or what felt like a long time to Peter, who had been Spider-Man for a year before anyone other than Tony Stark found out.

Peter fills his own glass up with ice and water and sets it in front of Tony's, like the start of a line of toy soldiers.

"I don't know," Peter admits. He knows he's young and doesn't have a lot of life experiences compared to nearly everyone else. "I guess I'm just saying that you should try talking about it with someone. It might help."

'You are using a teenager as your goddamn therapist.' The rational part of Tony's brain returned him to reality with a harsh jolt.

No. No. No. Bad Iron Man. No. He failed at his love life--again. Why not try NOT to fail at his parenting while he was at it? Peter didn't need to know this. He didn't need to know a great many things and definitely not THIS. Christ, where did it end with him?

"Pete. Let's back up. I'm rambling. I do that." He gestured back and forth. "Look--I'm sorry. None of that came out right. We're moving on."

Peter's not so willing to let the topic shift away that easily. He leans over the bar a little and looks at Tony intently.

"Dad," Peter says, and he waits for Tony to make eye contact with him before continuing. "If what you're doing now isn't working, you need to stop doing that." A beat. "Okay?"

Peter straightens, takes a long sip of his water, then sets his glass back down.

Tony suddenly pushed back. His body seemed to be punishing him for even thinking of saying something smart in the way his stomach lurched. If it were less urgent, he’d have requested more ginger ale to settle it.

“Pete.” He replied in a very controlled manner. “I have a follow up. But first, I’ll be right back.” Without waiting for much of an answer, he was pushing off through the double doors. Of everything his suit had, space to vomit didn’t factor in.

Peter watches as Tony walks off, not entirely certain if he should let him go off or go period. If he needs to pee, though, following Tony to the bathroom only to idly stand by as his father figure relieves himself would be awkward.

Instead, he lets Tony go without protest and starts washing the cups in the sink.

They'll continue their talk when Tony gets back.

Edited 2018-11-20 21:35 (UTC)

Thor is on the way to the bar when he spots him:

Tony Stark.

Thor hadn't gone out of his way to avoid him the last couple of days, but still, they'd managed to miss one another completely. Most likely because Tony was holed up in his lair. Thor had been everywhere. If Tony had left his room for longer than an hour or two, they certainly would have encountered one another eventually.

And eventually was now, apparently. As he heads towards the double doors of the Silverbar Lounge, he watches as Tony walks (staggers? Thor's not sure) out.

Thor freezes and for the first time since he agreed to give Tony space, he wonders what space really is. Is he allowed to say hello? Have conversation? Or should he avoid him entirely, the same way he dodged Bo?

He's not really sure. Instead, he waits for Tony to make the first move so he can take his cue.

Tony missed the mountain in front of him until he was walking headlong into it. His armor activated out of self defense, and he blinked like a dazed chipmunk as he stumbled back.

"Oh, hi! Wow. Hey. Long time no--no contact. Sorry about that, by the way. How's life? How's Loki?" Tony made a slow arc around Thor, his nausea barely contained. "Tell him I like him as a tiny furry kitten. Good times."

If Thor wasn't sure of it when Tony nearly plowed into him and he got a whiff of the alcohol hanging off him, he was certain of it from the casual tone of Tony's voice:

Tony Stark was drunk.

He doesn't bother asking him if he's been drinking, because he absolutely knew that Tony had been.

"Things are fine, Loki is fine. Not a kitten, though." And sadly, not a snake either.

"How are you?"

Coming to a stop once he'd made a 180, he was suddenly aware of his two options. Run to the bathroom and forget the encounter, or say everything on his heart and on his mind. Peter's advice, broad as it was, hit him in his core.

Running was an effort in futility. It ended up with him metaphorically and near-literally spilling his guts in front of his son. It wasn't working.

And then, Tony Stark was filled with a resolve. It was sudden and overpowering. Maybe he couldn't make things right, but he could set the record straight.

"I--" Another stomach lurch--far stronger than the last. Tony pushed on. "I--" And another. When next he opened his mouth, he doubled over and the muffled sounds of liquid expelling against the interior of his armor became apparent.