voicemail

[oldironsides]

You've reached the voicemail... Forgething... it... yeah... of Anthony Stark, Stark Industries. Leave a message if it beeps?




... how do you tell if it's recorded? Piece of alternate universe crap, you're lucky I don't rewire you into a double-ended vibra--





BEEEEEEEP

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action!

[oldironsides]

[He laughs, breath hitting the cold in subtle clouds that dissipate as quickly as they came about, and kisses him back. The guy's obviously got his legs back, drunkenness subsided.

For now. There was still a celebratory glass or three to be had later.]

Gotta say, that's a pretty awful pick-up line. How long were you at the bar?

[His lips quirk as he, for some reason, holds back on what would very likely be the dumbest grin to date. Anders's joy is contagious, obvious in everything from his step to the way he's holding himself. There's a happiness in him that Tony doesn't see often, aside from instances here and there when the friggin' cat's around.

... or... okay, there were other times. But that was a different sort of happy. Definitely not the type to advertise in public.]

You don't need to answer that, by the way. The girls will tell me.

[A pause. He clears his throat.}

Feel better? About... you know. I do.

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[justice_is_blond]

It's a good thing I've already picked you up, then, isn't it.

[He knows Stark's employees will probably tell their boss everything. Anders doesn't care, can't care. Right now, there's nothing that can bring his mood down.

Anders' fingers go back, playing with Tony's hair as he nods to the last question.]

Yes. I do. I'd...

[He glances down before meeting Stark's eyes again.]

I don't mean it in a gloomy way. But I'd not remembered what it feels like to be... be loved. And to love in return. I thought maybe, since the moment I had to leave you, that there was more. And then when you were convinced...

[Anders shakes his head.]

I feel better. [His heart feels like it's about to pound out of his chest as he leans in, mouth close to Tony's ear, for one more sentence.] And I love you.

action!

[oldironsides]

Don't worry about that stuff. Everything the Mist's done, it's put back to normal, right? You leaving, me going nuts. None of it's been permanent. We're real... a real thing. Not a side-effect, not an illusion...

[Stark exhales, not realizing the breath is a shaky one til he feels the shudder at his core. The whole scene -- the two of them standing out here in the damn cold, knowing what they know and saying what they're trying to -- isn't something he's wrapped his head around yet.

There's confusion, but no fear.

He leans into the mage, into the words, and finds the ones he needs to return. It's easier without eye contact, for some guilty reason. You don't have to see yourself in them, a reflection of someone you hope won't fail the man somewhere down the line.]

You too. [Come on, now. Breathe.] I love you, too.

action!

[justice_is_blond]

[He hears Tony's words, listens to them, takes them all in. Anders struggles with worries and doubts, especially in himself, but Stark does make Anders believe.

This is real. It won't last a lifetime, and they'll be torn from it all too soon, but they've fixed things from the fight and they survived Guardian thus far.

And then Tony speaks again. Anders closes his eyes, memorizing those words and this moment. There's still a nip to the air, the scent of meats and grease radiate from a diner nearby, and somewhere a dog is barking. It's perfect. Ordinary and entirely not.

He leans his cheek against Tony's for a brief moment before pulling back, eyes open again and shining bright.]

I think we were planning on celebrating. Where to...

[Anders trails off before finishing the sentence. He'd heard the shaky breath. He should probably hold off a bit longer before calling Tony 'love,' just for the man's sake.]

Where to, Tony? ...Incidentally, did you notice me slip up at the Clinic before? Neither Martha nor I are sure on that.

action

[oldironsides]

[Arms linked around Anders's waist, he lets his head lean against the man's chest as he thinks on that day... not particularly wanting to, considering the clusterfuck that was everything, but-- ]

-- yeah. I thought something was weird about it. Was just the way it came out. [He smiles faintly, mostly to himself.] I was gonna ask, but kept putting it off.

[Pressing into him, the move done before he's even realized it was happening, there's a strange, new need for closeness. He wishes they were home, tangled in their dark room, talking about these things. There was a newness to everything, and although the weight of the words hadn't yet sunk in, there was still a vulnerability that felt all too exposed out here in the streets. He felt like this thing they had, this whatever-it-was that sat closer to his heart than anything magnetic, could be snatched up. A trinket for some mugger.

So, there was a fear. Silly and illogical, but there nonetheless. Forever a fear of loss.

And not a fear he wanted known. Not seen or heard on his words. Clearing his throat, he glances up to meet the mage's eyes, black on gold.]

Celebrating's happening no matter where we are. Maybe just... maybe we go home, yeah? I'll open something up and we can drink to us. You can tell me why Martha was curious about whether or not I caught you.

action

[justice_is_blond]

[Anders has always loved touch, craved touch, and the feel of Tony leaning into him, holding him, is more intoxicating than the drinks he's had tonight. He'd be happy standing here for the rest of the night with this man against him and holding him back.]

It's likely better that you put it off. This went...

[He shakes his head, still a bit lost as to how this had even happened.]

This went. And maybe there's no such thing as a perfect time, but I can't see how this could have gone better.

[Anders' smile is entirely crooked and silly as he meets Tony's gaze. There's a sort of effervescent joy bubbling up inside of him as he answers.]

Let's go home, Tony, and I'll tell you anything you'd like.