Stitches⚣Stony

Thirty

There's a kink in his neck as he huffs and puffs, turning from his side to his back, stretching out his back, then his neck, the shoulders, the arms and flex his fingers in the air for a bit before his hands comeback to his face, rubbing at his tired, heavy eyes. He doesn't want to get up, he doesn't want to face the world and all it's problems, all of his problems. And he definitely doesn't want to deal with Obie, not today, not ever and especially not when hungover.

"Tell him I'm not home, I'm in the office or something."He huffs, lips chapped and dry and God, he's dying of thirst. He's not even sure what time it is.

"I don't think that's quiet believable Sir, you are not found in the office even when you should be."

"Is that sass?"If tony had his eyes open he'd be narrowing them at the ceiling. Tony can't remember programming his A.I with that much sass, or maybe he had, JARVIS was modelled after his Jarvis after all.

"Of course not, sir, it's just general knowledge."

"Hmph."

Tony can't remember much of last night and he's not sure if it's a good or a bad thing, but he knows that he's going to find out sooner or later. Obie will be more than thrilled to sit him down like an ill mannered little boy and show him last night, glimpses caught through the lenses of wandering phones and paparazzo lenses. It was his favourite thing to do, Tony is sure, because the condescending smirk and tight hand around Tony's neck is a dead give away of just how much he enjoys it.

"I don't want him in here."He announces, opening his eyes and blinking away what stiffness he wasn't able to rub away. The blinds remain closed, shielding Tony from what light would sleek through. He stretches, hears a click in his neck before relaxing back into the sofa. "Tell him I'm at the Hospital, an important and not to be interrupted meeting with Doctor Strange. Strange will cover for me."

"I don't believe that he would."

"Oh he will, he thinks I'm cute."Which was an understatement because Tony has seen the way that Strange has looked at him, with deep adoration and respect, the way he would enclose Tony from behind if he was reading at a counter, protective and soft. It didn't make Tony tense, it made him feel safe and goddamnit, Tony loves it but hates it.

"As you say, Sir."And this time, Tony does glare at the ceiling because the point of having technology that he built is to make sure they continue to inflate his ego, goddamnit.

Tony manages to shower and get changed in a record time for someone in his hungover state, emerging from his bedroom in his workshop gear of battered jeans and a worse for wear tank top. The tank top swoops low on his chest, exposing the top half of the Arc Reactor but Tony doesn't mind, nobody will see him in the confinement of his workshop.

His workshop was located in what was the basement of the abandoned warehouse, gutted from storage units and old boiler heaters so that Tony could accustom it with his advanced technology. His workshop became one of his first major projects, starting from scratch and investing all his time and money into making it his. It was where he birthed so many ideas, where he studied for his doctorate, where he created Butterfingers and U and where he created his first prototype of a prosthetic made from cybernetic technology.

Now he just needs to perfect it.

"Dum-E, what did I say about using the coffee maker?"Tony's tone is full of exhaustion as he watches the bot race from one side of the workshop to where Tony stands at its entrance, hands on his hips as he glares at the bot and the container of coffee that it holds in his claw. Dum-E beeps and whirls excitedly, showing off the container of coffee to his master. "Yes I know, you made coffee, but don't you remember what happened last time you made me coffee?"