delivery

[in_extremis]

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.

Comments

[beholding_archivist]

It's a remarkably effective way to keep Jon quiet. He even gives a content little hum against Tony's lips and closes his eyes while listening to Tony's response. Sounds as if they will be worrying about the magic together. Jon is a little undecided if this is actually better or worse.

Tony's observation is met with a pause at first, a genuinely surprised expression following. "Really?" And he takes a moment to consider this. "Well. To be fair... It is a peculiar comparison. I mean... There are fictional vampires, and then there are actual vampires and I- Do you have those in your world? Those mute creatures that pretend to be human... I actually met a man dedicated to hunting them down." And then Jon's tone turns several degrees more solemn "He kidnapped and considered to kill me when I was in America - And attacked the Archives not long before the Agrii took me here..." He lets his words trail off for a moment, then makes an attempt to turn the topic back around. The Hunters want him dead, so his friends should be safe while he isn't around.

"You- uhm... You want to study me...?"

[in_extremis]

It was like Jon had to prove his point, it was remarkable. As soon as Jon got going, Tony could tell this was going to be some kind of anecdote about his awful, terrifying job and probably explain another scar, making Tony roll his eyes instead of laugh outright at Jon's reaction to vampires instead of the sorry state of his sense of humour. While Jon listened to his own voice, Tony sighed his way down his neck in a trail of tickling kisses, his hand following and continuing down to Jon's chest to peak his nipple with the slow circle of the rough pad of a thumb. Around an affirmative hum, of course Tony's world had vampires, they were everywhere, how was that even a question?, he settled over the joint of Jon's shoulder that was usually hidden under his shirt, where Tony had to nose the chain aside to nip then suck carefully to work a pink mark into his skin. Focused on his work, Tony let Jon wonder for himself about his question for a moment, maybe come to his own conclusions after that tangent, before drawing away from his vampire kiss with a lick of his lips and thoughtful tilt of his head. "Maybe just medicated. Hey, Mr. Pharmacist, Chemist, whatever mad scientist you are, could you please whip me up some lubrication? My boyfriend needs to fuck me until he forgets what vampires are." It took him a moment, but Tony went very still then, eyes still half lidded and staring down at the mark he left on Jon's neck before he added very lightly, "You've been to America?"

[beholding_archivist]

And maybe it's this little habit of falling into little rants that is to blame for Jon's notable lack of experience. He can be very easily tipped to rambling about things people don't necessarily want to listen to. Though Jon doesn't fully miss Tony busying himself with spreading his affections over his body. Doing so would be impossible given the goosebumps Tony is causing and the way he manages to create some not necessarily unpleasant turmoil in Jon's stomach. Then, in that brief moment of silence between Jon's question and Tony's thoughtful response, Jon looks over to his shoulder just in time to see Tony pull away to leave his mark just there.

Oh.

He blinks twice before Tony's voice catches Jon's attention and he is about to react to the first part before the final bit steals his voice and leaves him staring. Tony's question somehow ends up driving straight into the wreckage left of Jon's mind. The actual questions aren't that hard to answer, actually. Yes, he has been to America. And yes, he can whip up some lubricant. That one's fairly easy and Jon still feels that he shouldn't be aware of that. But then there is-

"W-wha-?" Jon starts at first, his hand comes up to touch Tony's face gently, almost carefully trying to nudge him to look directly at him. Hopefully he doesn't look shocked and just about as surprised as he feels when he finally manages to put his question into full words, heart pounding. "...did you just call me your- Boyfriend?" Is he sounding too hopeful? Is Tony just messing with him to laugh at him? Or will he bolt away at the mere suggestion...?

Maybe Jon should have settled with just answering the questions.

[in_extremis]

America should have been very interesting to talk about, maybe not as interesting as vampires, but that was where Tony was from, maybe they had some shared experiences, Jon really had to focus on the wrong shit. "It's just-- don't worry about it," Tony said, tilting his chin up in Jon's hand in a way that read more bravado than relaxed confidence, cool focus somewhere above Jon's head like he could hide the panic that rolled off of him from the fear monster. "It's just an expression, it's an American thing, there was the pharmacist Jon and this Jon, see, this is your problem, you don't really do jokes so, we don't have to talk about this," Tony scattered, then dropped his hand down Jon's side to tickle up his flank where he knew he had made Jon squirm with a giggle before.

[beholding_archivist]

America may have been the safe choice, but it isn't what Jon has the most interest in. And while Jon can't help but feel at least somewhat rejected, Tony's reaction and the obvious lie are hard to ignore and in that rather concerning. So the hand that isn't at Tony's face drops down and over the one Tony has moved to Jon's side to cover it in a gentle, yet still firm grip. He won't be able to hold Tony back if he chooses to leave, but this isn't about holding Tony back. It's more about keeping his attention - And trying to help him calm down.

"Tony..." Jon starts only somewhat imploringly. "What- What are you afraid of? Please. Please tell me." And he is especially careful to not let any of his compulsion put weight onto that question.

[in_extremis]

Whatever Jon was trying to do, the stilling of Tony's hand did effectively get Tony to obediently release some tension, surrendering the tickling and dipping his head down against Jon's shoulder again with a sigh. "Sorry," he offered. "I'm not afraid, god, stop...doing things." He hadn't missed that Jon sounded hopeful, and he certainly hadn't missed that Jon loved him, but it was an act of cruelty to manipulate him with a gift and some sexual attention to saddle him with yet another worthless disaster. Rhodey loved him, too, but he knew better than to accept Tony's shit. This was good, this was working for both of them, what Tony was afraid of was finding out that it wasn't really. Slowly, he raised his head to study Jon's face coldly, watching for a sense of clarity as he said, "I've been sleeping with other people. I'm not...out. In a lot of ways. You barely know me, and I promise you, this shit you've been putting up with is all of the good parts. I'm not going to stop ignoring you to work, and calling you an asshole for ignoring me, and I've never been a good boyfriend. I'm not worth trying to make that work. I'm happy to help you unwind, and you shouldn't take anything I say seriously when I think my balls fully fell off ten minutes ago. I'd ask you to marry me right now."

[beholding_archivist]

This is not what Jon has expected to receive in response and he can only stare at Tony as the man slowly yet pointedly drives a metaphorical frozen blade into his heart, twists the blade and leaves in stuck there.

Right. He has been an idiot. He has been an idiot to believe...

"...right." Is all Jon mutters as he tears his eyes away and along with them pulls his hands to himself, suddenly feeling way too exposed and way too misplaced and like all he has been is the greatest fool.

He needs to escape. He needs to get away and find somewhere to breathe and maybe scream and maybe cry. But first he has to get away. Breaking down here - It wouldn't do. So avoiding to look directly at Tony, Jon looks around and ultimately simply tries to duck under Tony's arm and roll out from under him in hopes of makeing a quick clamber for his pants and shoes, falling into a frantic muttering. "-r-r-right. Sorry. I'm s-sorry. Sh-sh-shit... s-so-sorry. fuck..."

[in_extremis]

This, this was exactly what Tony was afraid of, and what the problem was. He shouldn't have said anything, they were doing fine. At first, he let Jon slip away, falling into the void he left behind to bury his face in the blankets and maybe suffocate and die. Jon really shouldn't have stuck around, Tony did deserve that, he shouldn't have shown up in the first place and, honestly, he knew better, what did he expect was going to happen?

That was stupid, that was nothing, Tony groaned. Through the muffle of the bedding, he could hear Jon doing that stuttering that really put him on edge-- not the adorable, indignant sputtering from an off-colour joke or the wind changing, but the one that made Tony push himself up abruptly and snap, "Stop that." The weird apology that Jon was obviously struggling to internalize, too, because they both knew he had nothing to apologize for, but one of them should have been doing it. Less harshly, Tony insisted, "Don't do that," sliding himself to the edge of the nest.

[beholding_archivist]

Finding himself free and able to put some distance between himself and Tony, Jon is quick to get his clothes and struggle them back on. Certainly not as neatly as he might have liked and he may have missed a button on his shirt and - And he will have to cross half of the city before he can hide himself away properly.

The sudden snap of Tony's voice makes him freeze once more despite his own panicked state and he almost - almost looks over to him. But Jon catches that notion and forces himself to close the last few buttons of his shirt improperly before his hand picks up the glasses, still suspended by that fine, golden chain. Which he starts fiddling with to remove it as well.

"...s-sorry." Jon mutters, trying to hide the hurt in his voice behind a stubborn veil. A veil he shouldn't have lifted... "I-I..... I shouldn't linger. R-right... J-just..." And with those words, the first end of the chain comes off and he starts on the other.

[in_extremis]

Tony was up on his feet by then, only proving how completely misaligned they were with a quick tug of his clothes and push through his hair to reset himself back to effortlessly casual, a move perfected through practice after being punched into the ground then having to hold a press conference like it never happened approximately every other day, whereas Jon seemed to avoid anyone looking at him at all by appearing very fussily disheveled on purpose. That didn't mean Tony had to send him back out into the cold light of day looking worse than he had when he arrived, and approached him with his hands up in surrender to try to appease him enough to fix his shirt, his hair, maybe the smudge fogging up an entire eye of his glasses, any part of this to not feel like a complete asshole, he could fix this. Only, Jon started working the chain that Tony had given him off of his glasses, it didn't even last one day, and Tony was left standing expectantly as he did until he was holding one hand out expectantly to accept it.

Sure. Okay. He thought Jon had been coming over here to throw it at him anyway.

[beholding_archivist]

Noticing Tony approaching has Jon swallow against the noise of his own rapid heartbeat in his ears and his choked off throat. Of course Tony’s presence doesn’t prove to be very helpful in Jon’s attempt at removing the chain and in his increasing panic the temple of his glasses gives a nasty little crack before the chain comes off fully.

Jon just stares at it for a few moments. As well at his somewhat damaged glasses as the little chain. The glasses quickly seem less important. They will be fine. But Jon’s eyes dart over briefly to Tony’s outstretched and waiting hand and for a moment Jon wants to reach over and take it in his own.

But that isn’t what Tony wants. This hasn’t been what Tony has wanted any of the times Jon has reached to take hold of one of his hands. And that knowledge... It hurts.

Pressing his lips into a tight line, Jon swallows once more against the lump in his throat and closes his hand around the golden chain one more time. Then, without looking over, he hands it back. Obviously Tony has someone else to give this to next and Jon doesn’t want to think about who that might be.

Without another word or even another stutter or trying to find out how well his glasses now fit, Jon finally makes to leave the forge for good.

[in_extremis]

Tony could feel that crack of the glasses in his spine, but bit his tongue against a flinch or a move to take them, and instead stared together with Jon at them hoping Jon would be the one to crack next and hand them over for Tony to repair, even if he didn't say anything else and waited in silence, Tony could fix it, he didn't have to give the chain back. It fell into his palm weightlessly, and Tony let his arm drop to his side, tilting his head and looking impatiently toward the fire for Jon to make his retreat. That was what Tony wanted, wasn't it? He had been trying to get some distance before he totally fell apart, he just got both at once, look at that, efficiency.

His effortless poise wilted and was gone the second the door was closed behind Jon. Without deigning to look at the ridiculous chain again, he hurled it across the room, only for it to disappear and not even indulge him with a satisfying impact as it met the wall, then the floor somewhere around the dark edge of the forge.