"Thanks." He smiles gratefully up, and the scientist just smiles back.
"You said we needed to make it special."
They're interrupted by a familiar british voice.
"Sir? Mister Stark?" JARVIS calls out from the shades in Tony's pocket. They sigh in unison.
"Yeah?"
People shout in the background of the audio.
"Sir, I'm being attacked by fans."
Tony slides the glasses on deftly.
"J, activate facial hologram projection and patch me into the suit's visual interface."
A nodule in the frames scan his face and the lenses show the view through the helmet. Tony retracts the helmet so a projection of his head is in the suit.
"Hey assholes! Believe it or not I'm human and I eat as well, so please fuck off. Thank you."
He pilots the suit toward the door of the restaurant, stopping at someone's comment.
"But do you?"
"The hell's that supposed to mean?"
"Do you eat?" A woman squeaks.
"Of course I eat. What kind of question is that?"
"The papers...there are rumours-I mean-is there something you aren't telling us?"
Other voices join in and Tony rolls his eyes.
"Do you have an eating disorder?"
"Are you anorexic?"
"Can I get your autograph?"
"Are you on drugs?"
"What aren't you telling us?"
"-volume up," he murmurs.
"Okay, listen up!"
The small mob around him finally shuts up, and he figures he's got about ten minutes before the press shows up to crash the party. A teenager whips out a cellphone and he narrows his eyes at her.
"Put that away or I swear to god I'm going to fry it."
Her eyes widen and she shoves it back in her bag.
Huh. That worked. How come my teenager doesn't listen like that??
"Listen up. I've got the flu and I pulled an all nighter watching The Office so yeah, I look like shit. But that's not the point-my health is none of your goddamn business. So...bye. I'm gonna go get my ice cream now."
He sends the suit inside the ice cream place.
"What's that name-oh my god." The kid at the cash register gulps.
"Yeah, it's me. Hi. It's under-oh my god, he put the order under Tony Stank. That motherfucker," he laughs.
"Um."
"Yeah, how much?"
"You're a hologram."
"It's a look. Whaddya think?"
"I-it's cool."
"Thanks. How much?"
"Um...forty-three even."
For ice cream and hot chocolate? Maybe he's just overcharging because it's me. That's obnoxious.
He hands over a credit card and attempts to sign off on the receipt, the pen scrawling across the table underneath it. The cashier raises an eyebrow.
"It's-it's a work in progress," he says, glancing down at the suit. The guy nods, and hands over two big plastic takeout bags stuffed obscenely.
"Alright. Thanks, man."
"Yeah..." he breathes.
"Bye." Tony stalks out.
"Bye Iron Man!"
Outside the shop, he's attacked once again by the same crowd from earlier plus at least three reporters with dictaphones in his face. He stops and grins inside the helmet, and turns to face one reporters. He's young and blonde, and grins when he sees that he'll get answers from the man himself.
"Who uses dictaphones anymore? Really? I thought you kids used iPhones for everything these days. I'm surprised you even know what those things are." He takes off with a smirk, the kid behind him looking amused yet crestfallen.
Tony taps the frames again and the view fades away.
"Alright J, bring it home." The glasses are returned to the inside pocket of his jacket and he sits cross-legged next to his lover, knees protesting.
"How much fucking food can two people eat?"
"I texted JARVIS to add to the order...you never ate dinner."
"Yeah I did."
"You had three bites."
"I also had a glass-and-a-half of OJ."
Bruce glares daggers at him, pulling Tony close.
"Come here, dumbass."
The engineer nuzzles into his chest and fiddles with his gauntlet ring, zapping air particles with his finger. He watches the little flashes of light, drawing in the air with a path of light.
"What is that?" Bruce asks.
"You." Tony twirls his finger around and soon there's an angry head of broccoli in the air, little stick arms with muscles ready to punch.
"Really?" He snorts.
"You bet, Broccoli Boy."
JARVIS and the suit show up with food, the bags dripping.
Bruce gets up and Tony quickly takes his warm spot between the blankets.
YOU ARE READING
p • r • e • s • s • u • r • e
FanfictionIn which Tony is the basket case we all wish we were allowed to be TW for: - self harm (graphic) - mentions of sexual assault - mentions of suicide This is not for the faint of heart. If the right people are reading this right now, that means it...
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