revivalproject | delivery

Entry tags:

delivery

WHO: Tony Stark, Cloud Strife, technically open if you want to hang
WHERE: The forge? I don't know the structure of this post eludes me, it might be just network, I might just be setting up a bunch of interactions for Cloud to have with everyone else like a benevolent god
WHAT: Tony's been making things and has packages for Reeve, Tommy, Sansa and Jon, and he's not doing all of that walking himself.
WARNINGS: It is genuinely not my fault that all of Tony's posts are horny and you should just expect it now.

a text to Cloud

hey

where are you?

you want a job, right?

Come to the forge.

Outside of the forge, sitting in front of the closed door very pointedly, were five lumpy bundles, the wrapping of these clearly not Tony's strong suit. One of them seemed to be just in a big leaf. They were all labled with thin tags of impressed aluminum tied or just placed on top for Cloud to figure out where they were supposed to go with just a name-- the rest, like who any of these people were and where to find them, was Cloud's job to figure out, apparently.

At least one of them should have been pretty easy.

C L O U D
It was...a chocobo? Or how Tony remembered a chocobo looking from the glance at it in Reeve's memory. Small, grey and surprisingly heavy, it wound up to go bouncing away on weirdly articulated legs. Did Tony think he was paying Cloud?

R E E V E
It's a head.
This might be what Tony thought a cat skull looked like. It wasn't much like the design he had left for Mini-C's skeletal structure in Reeve's sketchbook, he obviously had some time, and the obsessive insomnia turned to 11 after the sleep glut and nowhere to pour his creative energy, to take a more detailed turn, and he would have used the energy to make more of the structure but they were still tight on materials. What he did make was a few servos, dangling from the skull shape like a disembodied nerve system, and a prototype pair of hands tucked safely into the dome, too delicate to be very useful to Mini, but responding to their programming housed in the skull. The systems were done, was the point.

T O M M Y
Was this what he meant by hydroponics? It wasn't like Tony had managed to miss that bit of drama on the network. It wasn't assembled, a bunch of disparate pieces that didn't come with instructions, but a note that only read 'you need a tube'.

S A N S A
This bundle had a pair of brass combs in it, stamped, much like the labels on the packages, with roses. If Sansa hadn't figured out how to keep her hair from being a mess, maybe this would be a reminder.

J O N
A very tiny little knot of a rag, about as big as the label that sat under it, and felt light enough to be empty.
It seemed to only contain a gold chain.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

The little gasp he gets from Tony is a good start, or so Jon hopes. He is literally stilling the trembling of his hand by closing it around Tony's flesh, an uncertain thumb slowly stroking up and down its side while Jon is quite literally trying to get a feel for it.

Tony made this look so easy. But the man is a lot less restrained than Jon is, who tilts his head to the right at first, then to the left, contemplating what angle might work for him. He doesn't know. But he knows he can't make Tony wait forever only because he's unable to decide. So he licks his lips in a testing way before carefully taking the tip into his mouth, not knowing what to expect. What he knows is that his own heart is hammering away wildly and that Tony's "I'm all yours" has sent a shiver down his spine Jon can still feel this very moment.

He doesn't do an awful lot at first. Mostly just getting used to the feeling of the tip of a solid dick in his mouth. His hand is making a few experimental moves up and down its length now, probably giving Tony the impression that Jon hardly ever even touches himself.

A little further up from his hand, Jon remembers that he ought to use his tongue as well and he runs it over the tip in his mouth just as experimentally as his hand around the shaft. Right. That's... That's how this is done. Sort of. He'll figure it out. He's watched Tony!

That stroke of Jon's thumb and the clutch around him that was just a little tight was already making Tony squirm impatiently, so the incredibly measured plan of attack just about sucked the air out of him as he tried not to start mouthing off immediately. That wouldn't help, that would definitely make this process go much slower if Tony ramped up Jon's nerves any more, but maybe if Tony pissed him off in the right way--He had to cover his face with both hands, sucking a slow breath in through his fingers, and fuck Jon just stopped again, this was some kind of test. It was the tease of his tongue that did it, making Tony arch his back then push himself up on his elbows, talking quickly; "Okay, Jonny, my heart, my darling, I can feel the gears turning and I do respect your process, but maybe we can talk through this. I'm going to ask you something and you're going to be straight with me and no one is going to be judged or on the spot or anything. Do you have any idea what you're doing down there?"

And Jon freezes again at the sudden movement, eyes going wide as he looks up at Tony and suddenly feeling incredibly exposed. A very particular brand of shame washes over him and Jon just wants to shrink away. It's his eyes that flick away first. Then, with a remarkably undignified pop noise he releases Tony and backs away guiltily.

"I- ah... I-i-I'm sorry." He doesn't look back up. Right. He has blown this one. And not in the way he has been supposed to. And he pulls his hands back into his lap, quickly wringing them together.

"... y-you make this look so easy." Jon finally admits, clearly embarrassed and not looking back up.

Mistake. Tony definitely didn't want Jon to stop entirely, and the shiver that shocked through him at the cruel abandonment to the cold air was his punishment, but he was obviously going to have to stop if Tony wanted to actually talk to him. Deep breath. "Hey, hey--" First of all, this position was not working, and Tony slid himself up enough to get one leg out from under Jon so he could brace his knee against him protectively as he nudged the other one up under him to encourage Jon closer while they dealt with this anxiety. "That's because I'm easy," he pointed out, and wrapped one arm around his waist as he pushed the other through Jon's hair, trying to get him to look up to Tony's smirk. "I said no one is going to be judged, do you feel judged? I'm sorry, you were doing fine, I swear, for someone who's never met a hard on in their life. That's the last one, I promise. I'm just trying to make sure you're enjoying yourself, it didn't seem like it, it felt like you were taming a snake. That one was it, that was the real last one."

Tony shifting his legs under him sure results in some awkward shifting on Jon's end until it's clear that Tony just wants him to move closer again. And yet Tony's words are very good at increasing Jon's embarrassment with the situation. So even if he glances up briefly, he is quick to grimace and cast a quick look away.

"It..... it was that bad...?" Does he really have to ask? Knowing that the answer is embarrassingly obvious already?

Jon brings one hand up to rub it over his face, feeling not only embarrassed, but also frustrated with himself. "I'm sorry. I- I just... I'm not--" The sentence isn't finished. There are too many things he feels he isn't. Tony may just pick his favorite if he is so inclined.

"Tall?" Tony tried with a less confident grin that didn't last, brow finally knitting into a frown, because if that was Jon's answer to Tony's concern, what Jon was not, was enjoying himself. He hadn't even treated Tony to his peevish look of determination for the teasing, and instead Tony was rubbing his back and combing his hair, and wracking his brain for a decent way to let Jon know that the sight of Jon's mouth on him for a fraction of a second and that obscene little noise he made was going to consume Tony until he died, and he was at peace with that. He went, "Hey," again, pushing his thumb under Jon's jaw this time, he was serious, stop looking away. "Tell me what you need." Maybe he had shot a little high asking about what Jon liked, they had to lay some foundation first. Tony could fix this.

"Well... That too, I suppose." Jon admits with a defeated sigh. He sure isn't tall. Or well-built. Or particularly good-looking. Or charming. Or-

He drops that mental list and lets his attention be directed back at Tony. Tony, who despite this obvious disappointment is acting so kind and patient rather than being mad or outright laughing at him. Jon really owes him this trust, doesn't he. That, and some honesty about what's already obvious.

"...I'm not good at this." Who would have guessed? "Actually- I-... Haven't." And a vague gesture follows.

That defeated look in Jon's eye was painful to confront, and Tony didn't know how to be more apologetic for causing it-- he should have just let Jon work his approach out, it probably would have been fine, he might have had more confidence about this if Tony had at least let him have that win under his belt, and Tony could have very much not teased him about it. Both of them, apparently, were in a position they didn't have much experience with, though that was less of an excuse for Tony's behaviour. He started to shake his head, trying another smile, at Jon's evaluation of his talents, and drew him in to kiss his face reassuringly, then huffed a laugh at Jon feeling the need to clarify. "Yeah, I gathered from your handshake..." he muttered, because he hadn't been trying to assure Jon that he was some kind of dick wizard. Tony wasn't a good cook, either, but he had only done it, maybe, twice in his life; some things took practice. Only, Jon hadn't really finished that statement and Tony leaned back to study his face again with some dawning horror and asked, "At all?" Jon's virginity wouldn't be a complete surprise, in retrospect, but there was plenty Tony would have done differently if he had realized. Like every interaction he had with Jon at all, for example.

“Oh, dear Lord, no! It- it’s not that bad!” Jon is overly hasty to clarify, but the response doesn’t come with a significant blush covering his face again. “I- I just... I don’t actively seek out these... Activities?” A short pause and an exhale and he adds a little more steady. “It’s very situational.”

It’s a bit of an odd conversation to have, for Jon at least. Then again, the entire situation isn’t exactly a usual one and he does draw a bit of reassurance from Tony’s small displays of affection despite h the e teasing. At least the teasing is something Jon is Familie with.

Letting out another long exhale after a matching intake of air, Jon finally brings himself to raise one of his hands to place it against Tony’s neck, the tips of his fingers lightly touching the man’s hair. “It’s been a few years...”

Thank god, the quick correction made Tony's shoulders relax, visibly relieved to not be completely responsible for fucking up Jon's first time, and maybe a little obvious that he was entirely prepared to believe this about him. He wouldn't blame the gal with the cat for holding out, the jeans had been really disrespectful. The broader explanation was more familiar; Tony was no stranger to being the exception for plenty of straight guys, but he was used to them being extremely pointed about that upfront, and thoroughly reminded of how much they loved their wives as they fucked him into the mattress. Or they miraculously happened to be Tony's one exception, too, and both of them understood not to address how Tony could deepthroat them like a savant. The expectations were very clear, was the point, and even now Jon didn't strike Tony as a wayward heterosexual.

Looking more confused than concerned now, Tony's hand stilled on Jon's back, going very light but not quite pulling away, the other not really getting the memo yet as Tony traced his thumb down from Jon's temple to stroke under his ear. "Do you want me to...stop?" he offered to try to work it out, because he had certainly felt sought out in that hospital back room, but it was possible he had read Jon entirely wrong and the guy had just been indulging him so far. "I mean, what, uh, situation...?" he tried, but really didn't know what to do with 'situational' at all. Tony's 'activities' were situational, too, he thought, if 'horny' could be a situation.

It’s Jon’s heart that freezes for a moment at Tony asking him whether or not he should stop, and the reaction is carried over to the slightly tightening grip of Jon’s hand on Tony’s neck. And he slightly shakes his head. “N-no. I don’t want you to stop, I-“ And he takes a deep breath. “Stress. Frustration. When I got wound up too tightly.... A coworker.... He helped me unwind a few times? It was rough. Sometimes too angry or too desperate. That- thing.”

And for a few moments Jon is silent again, his other hand now slowly moving up to settle over Tony’s heart. “I mean- I... possibly could call you a situation, but.... It’s different. I love you and- And I want to make you happy. I want to see you happy and maybe that can be in my presence. Maybe... I just. I want to try.” Happiness instead of fear. That... would be nice.

'That thing' also didn't mean much to Tony, but his confusion had shaded back into concern even as he tilted his head with the question because his brief experience with Jon's coworker's hadn't exactly endeared them to him, and he wasn't enthusiastic about the idea of any of their personalities being what Jon considered a welcome relief. Then he was shamefully apologetic again, this revelation bleakly colouring Tony's attempts at goading Jon into being rough and angry with him, making him not much more worthwhile than whatever coworker Tony was judging. In the moment of Jon's silence, Tony passed his hand up his back again to hug him closer and nuzzle his way under his chin, meeting his hand over his heart to thread their fingers together as he tried to figure out the right way to word that he wasn't trying to get Jon to snap at him in anger, really, only he kind of was, it was complicated, if Jon was using him to cope with stress and wanted to slap him around he definitely wasn't refusing; there wasn't a great way to excuse that now.

This wasn't a helpful thing to be worrying about when Jon was casually tossing out that he loved him. He sort of said it, before, and Tony hadn't been entirely sure that had happened the way he remembered it, so he found himself holding his breath while Jon just kept talking like he hadn't already said the sweetest possible thing to make Tony happy. "You do," he had to insist, tipping his head back to meet Jon's eye so he didn't miss Tony's smile even as he continued irrepressibly sardonically, "You already did. What are you worried about?" He pushed up to steal a soft kiss, and lingered there with his eyes closed, sharing Jon's breath and hoping he heard Tony's harmony in the intimacy, if not the chain around his neck or the multitude of other tiny gestures that Tony tried to show him his adoration. Did he hear him yet?

Tony has met some of Jon's coworkers, indeed. Not all of them, and none of those he worked with during his years in Research. There were no memories from that time that Jon has been able to find, but that may well be since he hardly has made any memories worth displaying from that time. He just spent a lot of time reading articles and disproving statements. He actually would like to go back to those easier times and the more predictable work.

But all of that lies in the past. In the past on a whole different planet. And at least over the past years of nearly dying Jon has shed off the worst of his temper issues.

Being pulled into that embrace and finding Tony lacing their fingers together stirred up a warmth in Jon's stomach and he even catches that smile that adds a little flip to the uproar his heart is still insisting to make. The kiss is sweet and gentle and Tony lingers before him, Jon now makes a move himself and fully embraces Tony with the one hand that isn't still entwined with Tony's. Burying his face in Tony's shoulder and taking a single, deep breath, Jon gives a short, yet accurate reply. "Everything."

And that's a simple truth: Jon worries. Pretty much the entire time and about everything. Not needing much to any sleep hasn't worked well with that particular habit.

That much was obvious, making Tony breathe a laugh, but he didn't rib Jon for it right away. He accepted the embrace with a tight press of his knee against Jon's side, kissing his hair then leaning his cheek there as he welcomed Jon against his shoulder with a kneading stroke through the tension down the back of his neck. He spread the press of his thumb through the knots across Jon's shoulders, the fingers curled around Jon's flexing absently in tandem, until he was sure he could speak without butterflies falling out of his mouth. He would say he was hopelessly enamoured with the way Jon worried, and that he wanted to take care of Jon so Tony should have been one less thing for Jon to take on the whole universe for despite himself, and he would have gladly listened if Jon had just wanted to tell him any of that, and it came out as, "Sorry you thought you had to put my dick in your mouth to tell me that." Another giggle bubbled up in his chest at himself for bothering to try, and he pressed his hand to the back of Jon's neck to hold him there for a second while Tony tried to fix it, hopelessly, "And sorry I made fun of you, it's kind of adorable, honestly. I know I was a mess my first time."

Jon melts a little into that touch, letting some of that deeply-set tension be pressed away. It certainly helps calming him down and keeping his thoughts from drifting into an unhealthy downward spiral.

Though he does shake his head a little bit at Tony's words, not really willing to push away. "...you make it sound like something dreadful. I- don't mind doing that for you." Just a bit of a confession. "If you... want me." Just putting that one out there as well. "I... can learn." Given some time and patience. But obviously Jon quite enjoys just being together like this.

Burrowing his nose into Jon's hair again, Tony searched his way down to his ear to purr, "Any way I can have you," teasingly suggestive enough like he meant to encompass a few adventurous positions and not just that he would continue to hopelessly adore Jon even if he never touched him again. That would be painful, certainly, and the idea of thoroughly arduous lessons purely for Jon's edification, of course, however long it took, aligned much better with Tony's libido, but that wouldn't be the first gap that he found honey in. Very carefully, he slipped his hand from Jon's to curl around him and tip them back into the bedding, holding him like a fragile wire that he incrementally brought down against his chest so Jon could get himself comfortable and didn't go squirming away in any lingering embarrassment. "Listen, if that other guy wasn't into it, I mean, his loss, is that why? Is that the only guy you've been with?" It didn't sound like a super healthy relationship, and Tony knew a few things about the kind of damage that might leave a guy with that he would want to try to smooth out.

The purr sends a fresh shiver down Jon's spine. Not in a bad way, by any means. And the small noise he produces tells as much. The noise drawls off into a sigh when Tony wraps both arms around him, leaving Jon's hand behind between them and gently resting over Tony's heart. Which is one of those things that are very high on Jon's list of things he wishes to protect at any cost. As for Tony's choice of words... Well. Jon won't argue massively. Maybe he will argue against the prevailing blush on his face deepening a little in response.

Jon allows being pulled back down easily. The fact that Tony decided to hold him close may have had an encouraging effect on the decision. He does indeed get comfortable, then glances up at Tony's question before making a noncommittal noise and glancing away.

"He was. The- Only one, I mean. We were friends. Still fought plenty. Usually because I kept staying at work... Much longer than would be healthy - According to him. And I- I don't know if he was... Into it. He never made any requests and I never... offered? We didn't really talk- During. It was unprofessional. We worked together..." Will he regret telling Tony these things later? Jon wouldn't know. At least not at this moment. But he wants to trust Tony.

While Tony wasn't typically in the habit of requiring a full diagnostic history of a partner's sex life, it couldn't have much impact on him and he couldn't possibly have the patience for it, and any attempt on his part to reciprocate was consistently discouraging, based on what little he ever did share with anyone, this broader context of Jon's experience did help Tony get a handle on the expectations, he thought. He understood that coworker much better, anyway, although as Jon settled on him and Tony marveled at how he really didn't weigh much at all, making the skim of his fingertips down Jon's back a ghostly tickle like he was worried any touch might leave a mark, he couldn't imagine any impulse to be rough with him. There must have been a time he had more meat on him and weighed at least as much as one of Tony's girlfriends, when he was eating better and not scavenging in an alien apocalypse. Maybe one of Tony's girlfriends in college; they tended to at least do a little weightlifting since then.

"So, you would pull your usual asshole routine," Tony summarized, "while he tried to take care of you, until you both got frustrated enough that he let you bang it out so you would calm down, and you never talked to him about it. Have I told you this week that you're a terrible listener?" Despite the insults, Tony was still tenderly brushing the knuckles of his other hand over Jon's cheek and walking his fingers back up to his hair to repeat the motion.

The sound that follows those words more leans towards a little grumble mixed into a sigh and this time Jon turns his head to actually face Tony. "It's how I have come to get by, Tony." It's hardly an explanation and even less a good excuse. But it is, nonetheless, the truth.

"Believe it or not, I was genuinely afraid of losing this job I needed to pay rent and continue living in London at that time. Thinking about it now it feels ridiculous, I'm aware. No, I wasn't prepared for anyone to genuinely try to befriend me. At all. That- Hasn't been a problem I have had to deal with before. Maybe I handled it poorly, but..." There's another sigh and the indication of a shrug as Jon lowers his head back onto Tony. "I'm... Sorry. For unloading on you again."

"Don't apologize for that, I thoroughly enjoyed it," Tony said lightly, before adding as though he wasn't entirely aware that Jon was being dispirited as ever, "Oh, you mean this part." He scrubbed his fingers through Jon's hair to keep him from grumbling again, joking done, promise. That poor guy back in London was probably still in love with Jon, Tony thought, and wondering if he was sleeping like Tony did sometimes as he stared at his own ceiling. It probably didn't have the same implications for him. "I do appreciate you telling me this stuff," he tried, and even that felt clumsy on his tongue so Tony supplemented it with another pass of his thumb along Jon's jaw. "You're not an easy puzzle," he did realize sounded dehumanizing, but he took a breath before he continued, unable to hammer out a phrase that fit easier in his mouth than, "I want to fix it for you." Jon didn't even have to do his magic tricks to get Tony playing with that fire, and he released that deep breath all at once as he brought his hand up to cover his own face, frustrated.

There's a sputter and a little bit of a glare, but the fingers Tony moves through his hair soothe this initial reaction back into a mild frown and from there into a set of slightly raised brows. Though he is glad that Tony isn't upset with him again and Jon's expression slips into a thankful one before a mild confusion has him blink.

Being compared to a puzzle is new.

The menace he has gotten used to by now, but a puzzle... And yet that's not even the part he finds the most obscure. "Fix... what?" Jon finds himself asking dumbly, a single finger of his one hand drawing a small, curious circle into Tony's side while the other feels tempted to nudge at the hand Tony has placed over his face. This is a sentence Tony could very well be meaning entirely literal. He's always fixing something, isn't he? But in this context it's a curious one. Unless he is offering to fix what he deems to be amiss with Jon himself.

It hadn't even made sense to Jon, great. But it was making plenty of sense to Tony, making him try to breathe through a panic that his usual tactic of adding more words to displace it definitely wasn't going to help, not when he was trying to seem somewhat normal and stable. If he let all of that out at once after not having a meeting to go to in however many months, he wouldn't want to be around himself, either. Not that that was anything new. He squirmed at the ticklish ministration to his side, then stole Jon's own tactic and huffed, "Everything." Jon worried about everything, and Tony was there to fix it. Neither of them could judge the other too harshly now.

No, Jon can't judge Tony for that response, but he also isn't too surprised. Instead, a certain concern crosses his face. And it's not regarding the question of whether or not Tony wants to fix him as well.

But he doesn't exactly miss that increasing anxiety.

The hand at Tony's side stops and shifts into a steadying hold as Jon raises his head and his other hand moves up to settle at the side of Tony's face, his thumb stroking up Tony's cheek in an echo of the other man's prior action. "Tony. Are you alright?"

"Always," Tony replied with an automatic smile, closing his eyes to lean into Jon's hand, then kissing his fingers dismissively, he was fine, that was enough. He pushed his own hand back through his hair, the other curling around Jon's shoulder like he might push him down again, but didn't bother trying to make the smile stick. Instead, because it wasn't come kind of revelation and Jon didn't have to be worrying about it, he admitted in a rush, "It's just, I hate that-- I want, I want; I want a lot, too much, it's pathetic. It doesn't really mean anything. Of course I want, what else is new?" Saying it more wasn't taking the sting out of it. "And I feel like if I don't say it, somehow, I won't get obsessed this time, like that's possible, I can just ignore it. Hasn't worked yet, by the way. Not a very scientific practice." There, that was all Tony was worrying about, a few meaningless words. He put his smile back on, tilting his head to try to look down at Jon reassuringly.

The answer isn't entirely convincing and neither is the smile, yet Jon opts to not press the matter too much. The rest is... Well. Of course Tony wants a lot. Most notably he wants to help everyone and fix everything. Those are the most obvious things that come to mind for Jon, but these aren't qualities he would consider pathetic. And Tony says that he wants a lot, so those two points don't seem to be the only ones.

"Tony, I-" And he pauses a moment, then continues with a slightly softer tone. "I already told you what I want. And right now I... I also want to help you. If I can. So please tell me if there is anything you want from me that I can offer to make you feel better." He still feels like he is feeling around in the dark, but this is an offer Jon doesn't hesitate to make.

that's the plan~ <3

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