revivalproject | Harbour

Entry tags:

†: marvel comics: tony stark

Harbour

WHO: Jon and Tony
WHERE: The library and the beach!
WHAT: An arbitrary anniversary
WHEN: When it is too cold to be at the beach
WARNINGS: They're not even fighting about anything...yet.

The wind off of the water made the sparse snowfall swirl, leaving the ice hanging in the air and making a mournful howl through the nearby caves with each slow exhale. The waves were dark, barely foaming as they tumbled toward the shore and went slicing back across the blue sand. It crunched underfoot like ice while Tony worked, undeterred even when snow gathered down his back as he dug or he had to hunt under fallen growth for anything near dry that would catch fire. The tent went up first, an umbrella type for a wide, tall door that was propped open to face out toward the water, set back close to the forest where the wind was cut somewhat and packed with sand around the sides to try to insulate it. The firepit went in front of it, dug into the ground where it would be protected, and Tony could set a grate over it once he had some embers burning that could be easily stoked back to enthusiasm. What candles he had left, he dotted around the whole arrangement for when the sky wasn't so bright and clear. Trying to dress the whole thing up with bushels and garlands of the few, small flowers that still sprouted in the cold didn't make it look all that much more impressive by the time Tony was done, and was crouched in front of it by the sizzling fire, back to the water and assessing whether or not he had just wasted an incredible amount of time. He could have been spending it on something nicer, worthy of a fake anniversary. At home, he could have asked Sting to at least drop by for one song. With a sigh, he swung up onto his feet and made sure the tent was secure so everything inside of it stayed dry, and headed back toward the city.

It was hours later that he heard Jon fussing around with the kettle, perched out in the hall yet while his office was still half built. It took Tony another minute to drag himself away from his schematic and come sauntering from the workshop, where he smiled at Jon's busy back and practically collided with him to press a kiss to his jaw, hands light on his shoulders to search their way down his sides. Tony lingered there a moment, distantly watching the kettle over his shoulder, before abruptly accusing, "You're due for a haircut." Which was not untrue, they could probably both do with some polishing, but Jon's trim wasn't going to make Tony's careful beach setting any more perfect. That was a little beyond a haircut's paygrade. He melted with some frustration, and offered in a mutter, "D'you wanna do that, or come see--there's this thing--We'd have to fly." They didn't have to fly, but it would probably make the disappointment a lot less palpable if they didn't have to walk several hours in the snow just to experience it. "It can wait," he concluded, brushing a pointed hand through Jon's too long hair. Maybe by the time they were done with that, Jon would forget he said anything.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

While Jon has been aware of Tony's presence, the collision, soft as it were, came unexpected enough to validate a soft 'oof' and a mild frown over his shoulder. The pout melts easy with the received greeting and Jon's hand linger around the mugs he has finished preparing for some hot beverage. Somewhere within lingers an unspoken scolding for nearly making him drop any of these.

Jon settles on a single raised brow and a bemused little smirk. "You are making me choose between preening and a mystery thing, Tony?" Frankly, Tony should have known better than to put Jon's curiosity to the test, since now Jon is turning around fully to look up at Tony expectantly while his hands come to rest on Tony's hips. He's captured now. "What do you want to show me?"

Tony's hands lifted away for Jon to turn, to settle back where they had left off near Jon's elbows and spider restlessly back up to his shoulders where Tony tried, "How hot you would look with just a little more off the sides..." He knew already that this had been a wildly misguided gamble. One of them enjoyed preening a lot more than the other. He clearly abandoned the diversion with a sigh of resignation and roll of his eyes, and made a move that might have been mistaken for a hug as he draped his arms around Jon's neck and swayed in closer, only to pick up the coffee that Jon had left back there to sip over his shoulder. He suspected he wasn't going to get much of a chance to drink anymore as he encouraged, "You'll need your coat," and made to draw back to peel out of his own clothes, gold already spreading down to his hands.

Jon tenses for a moment when Tony leans close, not entirely sure what to anticipate, but anticipate he does. Will this be a kiss? An embrace? Or- Oh. Okay. Jon remains frozen in place and just a little flustered while Tony sips some coffee, but he also lets himself soak in some of the warmth while he nods his understanding for Tony's words into the man's shoulder.

"C-coat. Right." Jon utters while Tony draws back enough to allow him to go and fetch the requested piece of clothing. Though not without looking back over his shoulder to watch Tony get changed into his layer of gold.

"Where are we going?"

What was with the tension? He had already messed this up before Jon had even seen his poor display. With another sigh he let his head fall back to glare at the ceiling, and clawed his hands in empty frustration as he kicked his clothes carelessly out of his way for the Iron Man to assemble around him. At least it was kind of safe in here.

"Dinner and a show," he answered brightly. Was that making it worse? There was no way Jon expected him to be able to take them to a gourmet restaurant and get theatre tickets, so maybe this worked in his favour and would lower expectations. "Come on, come on, we'll miss the curtain, car's leaving," he instructed impatiently, already most of the way out into the garden.

'Dinner and a show' can mean pretty much everything if announced by Tony, Jon has learned as much by now. It's very much pointless for him to try and figure this out by guessing, which means he has no other option than to let himself be surprised. Which Tony has proven to be rather good at in the past. Not a small feat when trying to surprise someone who sees and knows everything.

Jon returns buttoning up the requested coat. It's long and a dark maroon color. A piece of clothing aquired on Eorzea where every local insisted he couldn't break with the red color theme. But the coat has proven a good choice for the current weather, especially when Tony insists on flying.

"So am I dining with the Iron Man today or do you have a change of clothes where we are heading?" Jon asks with a tilt of his head and a curious smile back on his face as he steps up to the now fully armored Tony.

This clearly hadn't factored into Tony's planning, because he started, "Uh..." and eventually produced a very generous, "There's a very casual dresscode." They'd figure that out when they got there. First, the fun part where Tony got to pull Jon close with one arm and rocket them up into the open sky.

Their direction was clear almost immediately, as soon as Tony remembered to swing down closer to the ground where it wasn't quite as cold or as terrifyingly high for someone not in a full suit of armor, and did his best to stay even and steady just clear of the treetops. Already, the sky was deepening into gold and orange as they flew toward the beach, pulling itself together for the perfect display to complete Tony's vision as the sun dipped lower and the colours grew brilliant in the shimmering fractals of the ice that hung in the air. It was a flare of red along the horizon as they made their way over the forest, reflecting off of the dark water and making the whole beach glow. Between the perfect picture and the thrill of the flight, the Iron Man gave a gleeful swoop down toward the sand and rolled in the air with a giggle, then an apologetic squeeze to Jon for the ride. He wasn't going to have to hang on for much longer, at least, as Tony spotted his tent and carefully set them down on the beach, where he could spread his free arm out toward the gracious sunset. Hopefully, Jon kept looking that way, because it wasn't actually doing much to improve the quality of Tony's work, which only looked more miserable now that the wind had torn down some of his garlands and sent the flowers tumbling across the sand.

It's not Jon's first time to fly with Tony and he would have thought he has gotten used to it by now, but unfortunately for him, that isn't quite the case just yet and Jon spends the flight clinging to Tony's armor and holding his breath when they suddenly dip down for several seconds. To his credit he doesn't scream, which allows him to pick up on Tony's excitement and joy. The man loves flying. To be free and in control and Jon can't blame him. He appreciates that Tony wants to share something he enjoys even though the experience remains terrifying to Jon despite the trust he has in Tony's abilities and the knowledge that he wouldn't simply be dropped.

Being back on solid ground is very welcome and Jon staggers for a moment before properly orientating himself. Yes, he has been able to tell where they were headed, but he hasn't been able to appreciate the sight as much as Tony has during the flight, so he takes a moment to look around before catching Tony's indication towards the sunset. It's beautiful, indeed.

And cold. It's certainly cold which Jon mostly feels on parts of him not covered by his coat, which leads to him showing his hands into his pockets as he looks down to notice a flower being stuck against his foot. Jon bends down to pick it up only to notice a few more being carried across the sand by the wind. Tracking down their source isn't difficult. Especially with Tony's construction being the one piece out here on the beach that doesn't naturally belong there and Jon looks from the tent to the flower in his hand and from there over to Tony. "This is why you haven't been home all day." He concludes and holds up the flower. "I have been wondering."

"Okay--not all day," Tony felt like head to defend, because it didn't exactly look like an all day project. "I was also at the shop. And did some yoga. It was more like a few minutes." Now he was making it sound like he wasn't even trying to put in the effort that Jon deserved, making him raise his frustrated hands again before flapping them impatiently, forget about it, waving Jon on toward the tent. He was still bouncing ahead despite the encouragement, so he could prop the door open for Jon and give another wave for him to make himself comfortable on the blankets where he could watch the deepening colours of the sky over the black water and the glimmer in the air. There were more comforts piled at the sides of the tent among more mysterious, lumpy bags, to hopefully keep the chill at bay, and Tony tried to expedite the process for the red tips of Jon's ears and nose by sending the pieces of the Iron Man into neat stacks near the back of the structure, where they continued to vent their heat. The wind was vicious now that he was out of the armor, but the fire in front of the door would fix that, too.

"Is that where you've been all day?" he continued as he worked to stoke his fire back to life, and fed it from his pile of sticks so the flames danced up over the edge of the pit he had dug. They licked at his fingers as he replaced the grate, and came happily along on some dried grass to light the candles he had left through the sand. "Are you going to tell me what you've been working on, or do I have to guess?" Jon didn't get the chance to decide, as Tony seemed happy enough to start the process, "A firm but polite letter to Echo about the state of his flying skills. You really can't hold it against him, you know, those ships are impossible, they're not designed to be understood, you're not going to be any more satisfied and he's going to be annoyed. A gift basket instead, maybe, way less effort."

While Jon simply half raises a brow in response to Tony's collection of excuses, he doesn't argue about any of them. He doesn't need to justify where he has been all day and Jon at least attempts to signal as much by following along with Tony's directions and eventually finding himself within the tent Tony has erected over the day, taking a brief look around before observing the now armor-less Tony's following actions.

Apparently the sunset is the promised show.

Jon nods, but then directs his attention over to Tony. "We could easily have brought some clothes for you along, Tony. You should take my coat until the fire has warmed up the tent." As he speaks, he has already wormed his way out of his coat and is handing it over to Tony. It may not exactly fit, but the man will still be able to drape it over his shoulders.

"As for my day, I was mostly busy doing some rearranging."

Just because Jon liked the beach, did not mean it was always a good idea to go to the beach, and it definitely did not mean it was a good time to go without clothes to the beach. These kind of details were usually handled by Tony's assistants, who worried about things like Tony getting cold, or his date stealing his car. He almost apologized, ready to suggest they head back, they could see the sunset just as well from the library if they really cared about it, when he was taking Jon's coat and raising his eyebrows at what was either a thoroughly boring day that he had rescued Jon from, or an effectively boring diversion from what he was really doing.

He only had a date to mess up in the first place because he was supposed to be cool, not shivering cold, so he did his best to get himself under control as he drew the jacket over his shoulders and braced a hand on his cocked hip, gesturing with the other until he was sure the shivering was still obvious and quickly planted that one, too. "You're welcome, maybe we should take a quick trip over to the other city, too, unless you've really got to rush back for some filing as well. Wouldn't want to keep you from the great thrills in life. Rearranging? Can't the cats do that?"

"They have already semi-domesticated themselves, I'm not going to try and train them." Jon answers while he watches Tony handling his coat. "Wouldn't even know where to start with that..." He adds and moves to sit right next to the other man, easily finding one of his cold hands to warm it up under his own. Not that Jon himself tends to have the warmest hands around, but rght now they will do just fine. "Now let's give the fire a chance to warm up the tent. We only just got here." Though it's very much like Tony to want and rush on.

"You said you were at the workshop as well. What were you working on?"

It wasn't easy to even picture Jon and his cold hands trying to muster the patience to train a wild mothcat to stay off the counters, never mind do the dusting, making Tony snort at the suggestion and show him just how well his training had gone with someone who fully understood the repercussions when he reclaimed his hand to sneak it up the back of Jon's shirt instead. It was much warmer under there, and Jon hardly had the room to do anything about it when those chilled fingers curled around his waist and Tony was twisted to brace a knee against his back. So he could relax against it, of course, Tony suggested with an innocent smile--they only just got here.

The teasing was gone for a frustrated sigh and roll of his eyes as Tony answered derisively, "A gift basket." It hadn't exactly been working out. "The only one of you that's anywhere easy to buy for is Cayde, he's happy enough with something shiny. Have you ever tried to give something to Billy? It's humiliating." And Tony wasn't exactly producing his best work right now. The best he had to offer was reserved for Jon, who might lose a toe.

Jon flinches at the touch of Tony's cold fingers and casts Tony a quick look of protest, yet doesn't actively try to pull away. Instead Tony has to deal with a pout being sent his direction. He wraps his own arm around Tony's back in return and raises a brow at the man's words while settling in closer.

"Hrmph." He replies. "Just put together a literal fruit basket. Should work for everyone here that eats actual food." A shrug. Cayde is obviously covered already anyway.

Jon had only captured Tony's hand briefly, so the effect was brief as well, about as long as it took Tony to grin impishly at Jon's pout like he might take it as an invitation to be bitten before he was suddenly bouncing away back into restless action again, interpreting Jon's suggestion, "Are you hungry?" He went crawling around the tent, searching under the lumpy edges of the blanket until he produced a bag, a pair of tongs that were definitely meant to be used in the forge, and the lumpy plate Jon had made, explaining, "We can make dinner. I should have made it before, maybe--I didn't know when exactly we'd be coming--I mean, sunset, obviously--" Crawling back out to the fire, he only paused briefly to consider, then appeared to decide it was perfectly rational to just dump the bag of foods he had taken from the diner directly onto the grate set over the flames. This did mean he had to rescue some mushrooms and gourds from bouncing off and into the sand, but he would say it was an efficient choice overall.

"Wa--" Tony has bounced away quicker than even Jon can protest, leaving him with his mouth open and watching what it is Tony has produced from the tent's mystery edges. Has he stored more things around there?

Though that's not a question Jon gets o consider for long, seeing just what precisely Tony decided to be appropriate dinner preparations. "Tony, I don't think that's how at least part of these should be prepared." He points out as he joins Tony at the door of the tent, surveying the various local vegetables and even some fruits rolling around on the improvised grill.

Primed by his own fumbling, Tony took it as evident from Jon's tone that he was about to question Tony's technique, and Tony readily responded to his own name, "Jon," as his beloved admonished the dinner that he had prepared for their very important and entirely precise anniversary. He had to make this sound very serious as he hastily tried to spread the foods flat across the grill, and was doing so with his hands in the lick of the flames before he remembered that he was also holding the tongs. When he did sit back on his heels next to Jon, he continued to watch the vegetables sizzle, trying to determine which part of this process could have been wrong. Cooking was just applying heat, all of them were getting heated, therefore they were being cooked. "Why not?" he had to admit eventually.

Jon sighs and reaches over to pick up one of the gourds to turn it around and present its slightly charred underside. "Because you won't get vegetables like this one into an edible state if you only apply punctual heat to its outside. It needs to be cut up and either cooked in some water or baked in an oven to have an even heat distribution. Did you bring a pot?" The gourd is left with Tony and Jon turns around and back into the tent to look around for more hidden mystery bags. He needs to know what tools they have available to work with.

The moment Jon's back was turned, the vegetable was back on the fire as Tony argued, "You can grill a squash. I've eaten grilled squash." Mostly because no, there was no pot to be found in the tent, so he didn't have an alternative cooking method ready to pivot to. What there was to work with was a sweater and more blankets (not great for food preparation), a leather bundle of utensils that did include a knife, a canister of something oily, a bag full of empty paper tubes, and a box tied with a ribbon. While Tony did eventually turn to watch Jon search in vain, he did not help at all, instead smiling slowly at Jon crawling around then dropping onto his back where he was closer, in the way and could peer innocently up at Jon from the blanket.

"We're at the beach, we're not supposed to be making things in pots, you throw it directly in the fire like--GYAH!" Tony was not prepared for the sudden bite into his knee where a very heavy bird had landed, nor was the bird prepared for his shout and rapid squirm away further into the safety of the tent, shrieking back at him and flapping around desperately. The absolute flock of other birds that had abruptly descended in Tony's distraction, drawn out of the chilly, barren trees toward the inviting smell of food, and entirely undeterred by these alien animals nearby, did not seem overly concerned about the ruckus. Instead, they were braving the heat to pluck fruit from the edges of the grill.

The paper tubes certainly are useless. The utensiles are intriguing at first, but quickly turn out to not really be something they can use without something to cook the vegetables in. The box is probably a gift and Jon casts an inquisitive look down at Tony with the man having settled down next to him at some point during his search. Jon sets it in the middle of the tent along with his other findings and his hands next find the sweater which he is about to drop down onto Tony's face when the birds decide to attack their meal.

"Jesus-!" Jon exclaims, mostly in response to Tony's yelp before turning to look in the direction of the flapping. He grabs the leather bundle since it's the noisiest of his findings and throws it at a small group of nearby birds, snarling. "Can you not?!" The clutter sends the birds away for at least a moment.

None of Tony's planning had included defensive measures against marauders. Throwing things wasn't a terrible impulse, though he did wince when the sand scattered and made the fire stutter, which made the giggle that took him by surprise at Jon's ordering of the birds a strangled squeak. They would have to continue to improvise, so as soon as Tony had his voice back he demanded, "Where's your lighter, quick--aw," as he snatched up that mysterious bag of tubes, then slouched back in confusion when he took one out and discovered that it was, indeed, a tube. "What happened to my fireworks?" he wondered, not expecting any good answer as he raked a hand through the bag and found them all mysteriously empty. This detour only gave the birds time to return to their curious pecking at a dinner that was not theirs, so Tony tried throwing his useless packaging at them, which did not deter them nearly as much as the heavy utensils. It just rolled through their feet and into the fire. This was falling apart.

"Fireworks?" Jon wonders aloud as he sees the tubes being thrown and he picks one up that has landed nearby. Of course he is familiar with the fireworks that Tony has been creating, so his confusion is very much shared with the other man. It gives the birds some time to try their luck at the food before their squawking and flapping draws Jon's attention back towards them. He doesn't shout at them again, however.

Jon just sits in silence at the entrance to the tent and slowly catches the eyes of every present avian with his own which causes every caught bird to fall silent and pull back from what they have been doing. Eventually every bird has stopped attempting to assault the present food and instead holds Jon's gaze, seemingly mesmerized.

Then they fly off, without so much as making a single noise.

The birds were probably the hungrier group here, so Tony was fairly resigned to letting them enjoy the anniversary dinner then finding out exactly what Jon expected him to do with a squash later, when they had a pot. It hadn't occurred to him to start using powers and blasting the animals, until too many of them were looking at Jon and Tony's hair was standing on end in the strange quiet that followed their raucous calling, and Tony sat up anxious as he watched Jon's back and all of those eyes on him over his shoulder. He didn't realize he was holding his breath until he released it as they lifted off. Maybe Jon would have been better at training the mothcats than Tony had given him credit for.

In the moment, he barely felt the cold anymore as he shifted closer, as close as he thought he could risk without Jon going tense or turning his ruthless eye on Tony and making him back away, too. That meant stopping short of nuzzling his pride eagerly into Jon's neck as he settled at Jon's side, balanced on one hand behind his back while the other skated carefully down his sleeve to try to encourage the tangle of their fingers. He couldn't keep as quiet as the birds of course, muttering as he moved, "Could you always do that? Probably good that you don't, it's very distracting, I've got stuff to do, you know..."

Jon doesn't require a lot of encouragement to accept the offered hand, glad for the touch that at the very least means he hasn't spooked off Tony entirely. He exhales softly with a glance down towards their fingers, then nods slowly. "One of the first things I could do, actually. Even without being aware of it I could just... Ask people to tell me things. Or make them do things. Daisy called it mind control, but... I'm not sure that's what it is."

He turns a cautious look over his shoulder to Tony. "I just reminded these birds where they can find more appropriate food for their kind." He didn't terrify those animals. Even Jon knows that fear isn't the right course to get an animal to do what you want it to do.

The asking part was very familiar, it was the 'staring animals down' version that Tony didn't think he had seen very much of and felt a little more juiced up than having to vocalize the request to someone that would understand it. He had lifted Jon's hand as he spoke to press a kiss to his knuckles, then twisted his hold to leave another in his palm where Tony murmured for him, "Inspiration." Okay, maybe Daisy was right, and it was very much mind control, but it really was in the birds' best interest and they clearly needed a little help along. Tony hadn't mind-controlled Jon into taking his hand, either.

Had Jon mind-controlled Tony?

It didn't seem nearly as hot when Tony wasn't sure if it had happened, making him tense briefly to control a shiver and try to shake off the paranoia that threatened to creep up his spine. Talking would help. "You didn't scare them, though," he said, a little too loudly. "Isn't that the part you hated?" He slipped away, crawling toward the fire to find the tongs and investigate the vegetables that had survived the assault.

The need to vocalize anything had vanished with the rest of his humanity when Jon ended his world. Putting information into other beings' heads for the most part only requires Jon to look at someone. Much more direct, no detours and no way for something like words to make the information transfer needlessly complicated. Some may consider it efficient, but Jon prefers to just talk to people instead.

Jon smiles faintly at the kisses as well as Tony's offered suggestion for an alternate name, yet he also isn't blind to the man's moment of tension. "It's true that I'd rather not make anyone or anything afraid of me." Safe for certain situations, of course. "But what's worse was losing the trust of those around me." Being able to read people's every thought and put suggestions in their head just wasn't a combination anyone found easy to trust. Even Martin kept accusing him of being in his head when Jon has had no need to do so. He picks up the pumpkin that has ended up not too far from him and puts it further into the back of the tent. "We're not putting that back on the grill."

The meal on the fire wasn't nearly enough of a distraction for the anxiety that Tony was trying his best to push down when Jon seemed to have picked up the signal anyway. What sounded like an accusation made that tension ratchet up between his shoulders, drawing them up and making him clutch the plate that he was trying to knock the sand off of to his chest. "I do trust you," sounded like a lame defence, and Tony was going to have to figure out a more effective way of expressing that. Maybe he'd figured it out while he continued, "More than you trust my squash right now."

His hands were still searching for the right combination, one clinging to the plate and the other curling in the air the grasp at his empty declaration, so it really didn't help that he added, "It's just--" Fist tightening in obvious instant regret, he tried instead, "You've never hurt me."

It's Jon's turn to wrap his hands around Tony's fist and gently trapping it. "I sure hope you trust me." He says, seeking out Tony's eyes with his own as well. "Because I'm not going to look to make sure." His expression shifts to a smile and he glances over to the grill. "Besides, if I were in any way controlling you, there wouldn't be raw vegetables and fruit on this grill. You're in many ways uncontrollable and I wouldn't want it any other way." It's this unpredictability that keeps allowing Jon to be surprised ever so often.

He gives Tony's fist a small pat. "Now please come back into the tent. We need to make sure you're not getting cold."

Jon's hold made it easier to relax, though Tony wasn't so comfortable holding his gaze with a guilty fidget for leaving Jon unsure. Jon trusted Tony enough to not drop him out of the sky and sleep in his bed, after all, and Tony certainly hadn't done anything to deserve that. This guild did not stop him from wrinkling his nose in offence for his wonderful dinner, then breaking into a smile of his own, not letting Jon draw his hand away without hooking him with a finger to pull himself closer into the warmth of the tent, dropping his cooking utensils back where he had found them into the sand.

"You could try," he encouraged, with a grin and welcoming stretch to expose the glinting length of his flank as he poured himself languidly alongside Jon again, clearly keen to show off just how uncontrollable he was capable of being and if Jon was willing to find the limit. It was when he was closer and back inside the security of the tent where he could drop his voice again that his grin was tempered and he offered, "I'm sure they'll trust you again, when you see them. You already did the hard part, making it new, the first time. Easier to fix something broken."

Jon watches Tony leave behind his food preparations and move back into the tent, very much satisfied with the outcome of his little request. He smiles, leaning back on one of his hands to keep his own face above Tony's. "I appreciate the reassurance, Tony. Though I am not worried about what I left behind." Because it doesn't matter. Not anymore. They will be better off without him at this point anyway. What matters to him now is right here. To make that point clear, Jon leans down further to press a kiss on Tony's lips, his own movements hardly as graceful as those of the other man. Which doesn't mean that he won't nudge his free hand against Tony's shoulder to prompt him to roll onto his back.

Tony's determination to worry enough for the both of them was short lived, the furrow of his brow smoothing easily at the feel of Jon's smile against his lips and not about to give up the opportunity to indulge himself. He eagerly met the kiss, hand up already to curl along Jon's jaw to keep him close, where it could drop to hold Jon's arm at the push in a reluctant compromise; he'd consider that suggestion, if Jon was at least coming with him. He would pull Jon down as he fell back if he had to, where he could leave him with a hungry nip as he felt his way back along his cheek and could trace the tension there when he whispered, "You still don't want to go back?"

Since Jon hasn't intended to not join Tony, there isn't much effort required to pull him down as well. He may not be the best blanket himself, but apparently Tony has at least packed some more of those as well. It's for one of those that Jon reaches to pull closer once he finds himself half on top of Tony. Though he pauses briefly at Tony's question to regard the man and then gently shake his head. "No. I don't think my Earth would take kindly to the return of its tormenter." there is a hint of humor in his tone that carries over into another kiss that Jon murmers his much more important reason into. "And I very much prefer staying with you."

This kiss wasn't returned while Tony's smile grew instead, and only mostly in warm infatuation with the barest warning of his impish slant. With a slow hook of his foot around Jon's ankle, he had more than enough leverage to easily reverse their positions, which did very efficiently pull that blanket closer while Tony propped his head up on one hand and could watch the other adeptly pluck at the buttons of Jon's shirt to trace his fingers along his collar and up his throat. It wasn't about to be a habit of Tony's to spend much time looking backward, and of course he was prepared to follow Jon whatever he had said, so he muttered back, "Then where are we going, my love?" From here, he could also satisfy his own hunger, ghosting touch continuing up to trace along Jon's lip until they parted as he continued, "We have all of eternity in front of us, and no where I would rather be, and infinite planets that would only know you as beautiful-..." He finally returned his kiss, coaxing it deeper as he continued, "And adored--, and surprisingly good at herding cats..."

For all that Jon believes himself to know Tony's tactics by now and would consider himself to be prepared for a move like this he still lets out a squeal of surprise at the quick turnabout. He finds himself blinking up at Tony a few times and visibly flustered by not being as prepared after all. If he's lucky Tony at least won't notice how tightly he has come to cling to the blanket.

"Uh..." He manages before Tony begins to speak while his fingers begin their little treck along Jon's neck and jaw and- Does the man even know how distracting he can be? And that's even without the proposal to visit more alien planets. "I- I think I like that--" Jon gets to agree halfway before breaking into a flustered chuckle that becomes a half-hearted complaint. "Tony, I am NOT herding cats!"

Jon reaches his arms up to try and pull the blanket over Tony's back at least somewhat, though he isn't entirely focused on the task at hand. "Of all the planets we have seen so far... Which one would you like to revisit if you could?" He's curious now. They all had been fascinating to Jon and they clearly had too little time to properly learn about any of them.

As an expert in the field, Tony knew exactly how distracting he was and knew how to use his talents to buy himself another chance at wringing one of those noises out of Jon, and nose his way down to suck a kiss into his neck before he figured out how rapidly he had lost control of the situation again. What Tony didn't expect was to have the question turned back on him, making him hum thoughtfully, then have to lift his head from where he was nipping at Jon's collar to pout as he tried to consider going back. What they had missed at any of these places wasn't as interesting to him as what might come next, and even that city with its flying highways and intergalactic reach was darkened by the rot at its core, and a loss Tony didn't really want to process.

"Maybe..." he was willing to venture, "that city-planet, a few universes to the left. If there's a version where the automation meant expansion and development, where they could be now if the whole structure was equalized. That's the kind of world I was trying to build, technology for equity, for expression--somewhere out there, that has to be possible."

"Coruscant had an extensive library..." Jon recalls thoughtfully, tracing a finger along the back of Tony's neck and over his shoulder. "Too bad they had no actual books there." Everything was recorded and properly digitized. Sure, that made the place much more efficient and it has been easy to find anything one might be searching for, but Jon will have to admit that he has been rather glad that their last planet trip allowed him to bring back a decent amount of printed goods.

Jon offers a nod. "We can find that place." He offers, gently guiding Tony's head back down for another kiss, muttering just between them. "-or I'll help you build it."

Edited 2023-01-29 12:47 (UTC)

The perfect intersection where that society was more socially advanced and still relied on paper binding seemed vanishingly unlikely enough that Tony was snickering as he tipped his head, like he might be able to lean into Jon's tickling touch. He was more than happy to satisfy that urge with a kiss, and would have interrupted Jon with more if not for the new warm grin that he had to bite away while restlessly curling his fingers through Jon's hair instead. The moment that he didn't feel entirely like he might burst, he could have promised that he would have every publication meticulously transcribed and bound for Jon's personal library, and that he knew something had been missing this whole time, and how much bigger that future suddenly felt. Maybe Jon could work out the structure of all of that, at least, while Tony pressed it against his lips before he could get a word out.

Jon is happy to accept the kisses along with the lack of protest. It's his turn to smilr widely and wrap his arms further around Tony's back to pull and hold him closer with a content hum against Tony's lips. As strange as this setup has appeared at first, Jon will admit that he finds himself quite happy right here and now with his focus on Tony and the raw fruits and vegeetables left on the improvised grill forgotten. Tony is all he actually needs and he won't tire of running a hand down the man's back or take a hold of his hands or kiss those lips. It really doesn't matter where they are. They can turn the where into what they need or want it to be.

Though of course Jon also remembers that the plan here has been to keep Tony warm with the one clear option Jon sees to achieve this is to massage the man's back with his hands from his shoulders down to his hips.

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