What Was Stark Industries, Saturday Evening

[imafuturist]

Well, the good thing about being able to technopathically feel your psychotic, monster counterpart was knowing where they were in relation to you. Also when they suddenly stopped existing.

Tony sighed after the buzz in the back of his head had disappeared, hunkering down to find what else he could in case this... whatever it was... didn't go away just yet. He wasn't brooding over anything. No, of course not.

That would be silly.

[Expecting one!]

Comments

[heroic_jawline]

"I hear they have food eating contests now," Steve said, still keeping his eyes closed. He wondered if he could eat the candy bar while napping. That'd be handy.

"Your hording tendencies have definitely come in handy," Steve said.

[imafuturist]

"Hoarding implies a psychological defect," Tony replied, trying not to sound amused. It took a little effort to open with one hand, but he got there. "I'm drawing the line at hand feeding you, Rogers."

[heroic_jawline]

Steve laughed, blushing hard. "I'm not that worn out, Stark."

[imafuturist]

"Good, I'm an awful nurse maid," Tony said incorrectly. "Eat. You can nap after. I'll keep a watch out."

[heroic_jawline]

"You definitely don't have the legs for the uniform," Steve teased, pushing up off of Tony to reach for the candy.

[imafuturist]

"We can't all be leggy blondes," Tony replied dryly.

[heroic_jawline]

Steve laughed. "Sometimes it's still tough to remember that I'm leggy now."

[imafuturist]

Tony took a little bite of the bar before giving it over. There. They shared.

"One day you're going to look in the mirror and recognize yourself," he said, yawning and stretching his arms up over his head.

[heroic_jawline]

"Not this week. This week I'm tired enough to forget to duck under stuff," Steve admitted, taking a bite and trying to hand it back to Tony.

[imafuturist]

Tony snorted, shaking his head as he took another bite before offering it back. "I'm going to hack your SHIELD file and put that tidbit in there once we get back."

Because they'd get back. It was just that simple.

[heroic_jawline]

"Natasha would never let me live it down," Steve said ruefully, taking a smaller bite of the candy so there was still some left for Tony.

[imafuturist]

Which Tony ignored like he didn't even see it. Take the calories, Rogers!

"'Sings in the shower. Badly,'" Tony added, leaning back against the couch with care. The poor thing didn't have much longer.

[heroic_jawline]

"Shower," Steve sighed longingly, popping the last bite into his mouth. "Think there's a chance of hot water?"

[imafuturist]

"We could start a fire, but I'm dubious about the water left in any pipes," Tony replied, draping his arms over the back of the couch. "Sore or just missing good ol' indoor plumbing?"

[heroic_jawline]

"Yes," Steve said, shifting closer again. Now that the adrenaline was wearing off, he was getting a little cold.

[imafuturist]

Well, it was winter. And they were missing a wall over there. Clearly this was conservation of body heat. Tony could rationalize anything.

"Yes," Tony repeated with a laugh, shifting just a little to make it easier for Steve. "Think there are any blankets that don't have holes in them?"

[heroic_jawline]

"Probably not, but as long as the holes don't overlap each other, we'll be fine," Steve said with a small smile.

[imafuturist]

"No Great Depression tricks up your sleeve on it?" Tony asked.

[heroic_jawline]

"I don't think we have the supplies here to darn the holes back up," Steve said, "but I can look around."

[imafuturist]

"If that involves knitting needles, I'm politely trying not to laugh," Tony said with a grin.

[heroic_jawline]

Steve shoved his shoulder. "Knitting was very manly in World War II."

[imafuturist]

Tony did laugh at that, swaying a little at the shove to bump into him as he came back. "I don't doubt it. I'm just picturing you knitting and it's... an interesting image."

[heroic_jawline]

Steve laughed. "I was terrible at it, but it beat having holes in my socks."

[imafuturist]

"I tried knitting once," Tony said, pulling his feet up to tuck up on the couch. "I'm good at small details, you know? I was not good at those details. I was not good at all."

[heroic_jawline]

"What did you try to make?" Steve asked, standing up to gather everything remotely blanket, quilt, or towel-like and burying Tony in them.

This was feeling a lot like Brooklyn, all of the sudden.