The instinct was to lean back with both delicate hands to his chest, eyebrows raised in a mockery of innocence like Tony couldn't believe Reeve could be accusing him of being disrespectful, but it wasn't a sustainable posture. Partially, because Tony had to stop crouching and sit heavily back on his ass before he got too light headed, folding his robe closed around him with his arms barred across his chest to mask the shivers, and partially because he did very earnestly had to complain, "Hey. I do respect your work." With his gold heels mostly slipping against the metal floor, he pushed himself back to lean against the console with relief. "Sorry that I gave you the impression that I didn't. It was just a joke. It could have been better, I'll workshop it."
"There's no one here to workshop with," Reeve points out, sighing before he moves to put his back against the wall.
"I'm scared. For all of the people on the ship. I don't know how to protect them, not from their own impulses. And even here, we've got people who just want to go after strange ships, where there may well be threats we don't know how to handle. There is so much going on, and I don't think it's going to get us any closer to home."
That was a real shut down that had Tony frowning and looking out at the shuttle bay so he didn't have to look at Reeve and his intolerance of Tony's presence anymore, not sure what else to do about it while they were stuck here getting this done. It seemed like they kept on being stuck together when Reeve was trying to get his distance. Maybe Tony wasn't too far off with his polarization theory, but that wasn't as reassuring when Reeve didn't seem to want any part of it.
Reeve's admission drew Tony's attention back with some surprise. 'Scared' was a big one to just put out there; Tony wouldn't be offering it without duress. He was always kind of scared, though, and maybe more used to this exact situation, not knowing what they were up against, threats at all angles, and a team of people who charged into battle when Tony just wanted to wrap them all in armor, that he didn't really need the mask to be able to hide it anymore. He couldn't tell Reeve he was wrong about any of that stuff, they would have to talk about how to deal with it, but he could argue, "We're already closer to home. One of those aliens is in there." He pointed toward the doors, where a group had splintered off in search of Ga Re, a distinct life sign in the middle of an abandoned ship. "They're going to have some answers, whether they want to give them up or not. We're going to see what they've been doing out here, how they work, how they've been living and what we have to do with any of it. That's closer than we've been this whole time." Whether or not getting home was such a good thing at this point, Tony wasn't sure. For Reeve it must have been.
There was a myriad of ways Reeve could have come to possess that information, and at first Tony watched him cautiously, trying to judge from the delivery and tone how dangerous it was that he had it, and how likely it was that he would share it. He did seem to assume that Tony knew. Or that this would disturb him, maybe, though that model of malice wasn't Reeve's usual style.
Maybe Jon was just telling people now.
"If that's what it takes," Tony tested, tilting his head attentively for Reeve's reaction, if he had some kind of moral stance against it and might have to be kept in the dark further down the line, or just a personal one.
Right, personal. This was actually easier when they weren't actually talking and just working, maybe they could go back to that and Tony could live with the pain. He rolled his head back against the console to turn his focus up to the distant ceiling of the shuttle bay, far enough away that it was dark in shadow and Tony had to work to find shapes in it, keeping at leas that part of him always searching for patterns occupied.
"He's not malicious," he murmured, not sure what exactly he was defending against, but in his experience the invasive compulsion had been very much Tony's fault, and he wasn't about to just accuse Reeve of that outright. Whatever Jon had done to Tommy, that one probably wasn't Tommy's fault in any way. "If you talk to him, he'd..." Tony suggested vaguely, twisting an aimless hand in the air, hoping he didn't have to go any further than that and Reeve would assure him that he wasn't icing Jon out, too. Neither of them deserved that, whatever happened between them.
"He won't talk to me, Tony," Reeve counters, quite willing to cut the other man off. "I tried, and he forced me to tell him whether we'd been together or not."
Which was rude.
"He said that I 'won' and you were 'mine now'. That I stole you from him."
This? This had been the problem he'd had originally. This had been why he had thought it would be better to be out of their way. But early on in the catacombs or whatever it was under the city, Tony had assured him it was fine.
Rude enough to make Tony grimace, there was no argument against that, but Jon had never given the impression that he was particularly polite. It was possible that Tony should have anticipated this pair clashing over that distinct discrepancy, and it would have been nicer if this revelation had happened over more standard social graces that Reeve put too much stock in and Jon flagrantly ignored than, well, that.
"Yeah, maybe let him cool off a bit," he muttered as though this was purely an issue of Reeve and Jon navigating some personality differences that they just had to talk through, as though that little outburst of compulsion wasn't entirely Tony's fault, too, still looking up at the ceiling with his lip raised in discomfort. It took a deep breath before Tony could acknowledge, "He's not my wife, I'm not..." which he did know didn't sound at all like what he was trying to say, but maybe Reeve got it and Tony finally dropped his chin again to search for that acknowledgement, only to twist his mouth to the side apologetically and accept that what he was trying to say didn't really matter. "I shouldn't have put you in that position," he corrected. "I didn't think--" No, he wasn't making excuses, both of them already hated him and he did earn that. "I didn't think." He hadn't earned ruining their lives over it, though, so he suggested again, "You should talk to him."
"He doesn't want to talk to me," Reeve corrects, voice firm. "What he wants is you. And I'm rendered the villain due to communication issues between yourself and him."
Which was not fair. Not fair at all. And was why Reeve had been cool and distant. Once more he had been made unwitting villain in his own life. A fact he most definitely did not appreciate.
"If you do not want him romantically, why don't you just spell that out? Or have you told him and laid the blame on me to lessen the blow upon yourself?"
"No, I heard that, just..." Tony tried to argue, not sure how else to resolve this conflict between Reeve and Jon that wouldn't exist if they both realized the ire should have entirely been directed at Tony, not each other. Jon wasn't talking to Tony (Jon definitely didn't want him), either, it wasn't like he could step in there. God, he felt sick. This was not the time. He bent a knee up to brace an arm across and tip his head into his hand, shutting his tired eyes behind his fingers for some relief. There, he carefully shook his head, without a good argument for what had happened in the context that Reeve was trying to structure for them.
"I couldn't deliver for him," he tried to thread into that structure, free hand over his heart as though to indicate himself, then curling in the fabric to hang there limply. Not for lack of trying, Tony definitely tried to give Jon everything he wanted, but he had an unavoidable history of not living up to expectations. D.A.T.A. still wasn't finished, and Tony still hadn't gotten them home yet. "And that's not worth constantly yelling at me to take care of myself," he said to explain all of the joys Jon was getting out of that relationship, between the bug guts and the fish guts and dying on him, it must have been exhausting. "So--it doesn't have anything to do with you. No one blamed you. You're just..." Tony had to squeeze his eyes shut tighter, nails pressing into his palm through the fabric, because trying to put Reeve into this context left him saying, "Easy to talk to," which was traumatic when Reeve obviously felt differently. "And kind and analytical, and you understand what it's like to fuck up so bad that you have to put the work in to make it up to a whole planet and try to make it right." Tony melted further down against his knee, not sure what else he was supposed to do when he didn't want to push all of that away. He was trying to give Reeve whatever he wanted, too.
"He blames me," Reeve counters. And he knows. Because he was told to his face. But it's just... exhausting.
"You are my friend, Tony, and I have no intention of that changing. However, I do find myself... distressed by the position you have put me in. You are someone who understands me, to a degree. That does not mean that I want you for the long term. We're... too alike. And in the ways we are not, we are not compatible."
That Tony didn't have to build anything for Reeve again to secure the declaration that they were friends was enough to make him lift his head out of his miserable coil, peering over his knee at Reeve with dubious surprise. They both knew that would change, it changed every time Jon imparted whatever this clarity was to Reeve, and eventually Reeve would figure out on his own--yeah. Tony was ready for Reeve to figure out this wasn't sustainable, so it really wasn't fair that it made Tony wince, stomach drawing in tight as he dropped his head again. He wasn't used to people just saying that part out loud, once they hit their threshold they left without the announcement; what a treat to be able to adapt this familiar code to another futurist.
"I know. Sorry," he offered for his general personality deficiency, and Reeve putting up with it to get what he needed in the short term. "Hey," he added, with less energy than he could usually muster, "you know there's a long term. Can't be that pessimistic about all of this. You just need to recharge your batteries; after a nap, a protein bomb, we hit the ground running and figure out what happened to us here, we'll be home in no time."
Don't wince. It's not becoming of a man that should be so much more confident than Reeve could ever manage. After a moment he... he reached out and put a hand against Tony's knee. Don't mind him. Just being comforting.
"It's fine. Strangely enough, I think I've more than come to terms with the idea that I'm not going to date you. But I think I can... I think today has reminded me that I can work with you. And I don't know what the rest will be like, especially not with the mood Jon is in. Perhaps in time you'll make proper peace with him and then we can figure out what we're about beyond working together."
And there probably shouldn't be anything, but Reeve can't guarantee it. There was undeniably an eagerness they shared for certain pass times. Nothing to say they wouldn't fall into it once again.
It was not fine, and Tony was trying to build them away from this conversation, especially before Reeve's gentleness inevitably kicked in and he was doing this twisted reassurance for the position that Tony had put him in-- that was really not fine. And especially because Tony couldn't exactly cast him off, either; he folded both hands over Reeve's on his knee, trying vainly to press that warming balm deeper to reach the sick chill in his chest. It was kind of him to have thought far enough ahead to skip over including Tony entirely in this decision not to date, it saved them both the frustration of Tony having to warn him off, but Tony didn't know what it was that made Reeve think he had to share his conclusions. Maybe it came from the same place that made him tell Tony about the compatibility thing instead of just acting on it. "You say more than you show," Tony muttered, an incredibly belated observation for how much he obsessed over how Reeve expressed himself, and for being one of those incompatibilities that Reeve had obviously already figured out long ago. "Smart man," Tony added, as though he had connected those two thoughts at all for Reeve, head tilted in affectionate admiration.
With a deep breath to prepare himself, Tony uncurled again, releasing Reeve's hand to stretch his legs out and drop his head back against the console. "Don't worry about me, I can do this with my eyes closed. See?" He smiled, eyes closed as promised, as though Reeve could actually see Tony was doing anything other than sitting on the floor while he knit their communicator network back together carefully around the fickle framework of the Agrii ship.
"Words are better armor than I can normally afford," Reeve shrugs.
He would move closer, or move away, but the hands on his knee feel like an anchor. Like he shouldn't go elsewhere. Which he can accept. But then... then the man is moving away just a bit. Was it wrong that he hated the distance? Yep. So he just moves to lean against Tony. A little.
There was no need to be shy about it; Tony gladly raised his arm to welcome Reeve closer as long as he was still offering it, not about to squander his limited time. He draped it heavily around Reeve's neck to pull him against Tony's shoulder, the press of him against Tony's side the first thing to ease the crackling nerves where he touched since they had landed, and making Tony release a breath that it felt like he had been holding in anticipation of that relief. It had been easier to ignore the bone deep need to find a drink while holding James, and Tony didn't want to examine too closely that it might have just been body heat that was soothing. "How's your hand?" he asked quietly. "If we have to amputate and bench you, this game is going to get a lot harder. Lots left to do. There better be a jacuzzi on my ship by the time we leave here. You think I can do that on my own? These alien components are mystifying."
It's nice. So nice. The comfort, the proximity, it's soothing. And Reeve is so very, very tired. So he relaxes, truly relaxes against Tony, and closes his eyes. Just for a moment.
"No amputation needed. I've done a lot worse to myself. Though normally with cure spells to help with it. And there is no way your ship is getting a jacuzzi when it could be on mine."
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revivalproject2020-08-05 02:48 pm
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"I'm scared. For all of the people on the ship. I don't know how to protect them, not from their own impulses. And even here, we've got people who just want to go after strange ships, where there may well be threats we don't know how to handle. There is so much going on, and I don't think it's going to get us any closer to home."
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Reeve's admission drew Tony's attention back with some surprise. 'Scared' was a big one to just put out there; Tony wouldn't be offering it without duress. He was always kind of scared, though, and maybe more used to this exact situation, not knowing what they were up against, threats at all angles, and a team of people who charged into battle when Tony just wanted to wrap them all in armor, that he didn't really need the mask to be able to hide it anymore. He couldn't tell Reeve he was wrong about any of that stuff, they would have to talk about how to deal with it, but he could argue, "We're already closer to home. One of those aliens is in there." He pointed toward the doors, where a group had splintered off in search of Ga Re, a distinct life sign in the middle of an abandoned ship. "They're going to have some answers, whether they want to give them up or not. We're going to see what they've been doing out here, how they work, how they've been living and what we have to do with any of it. That's closer than we've been this whole time." Whether or not getting home was such a good thing at this point, Tony wasn't sure. For Reeve it must have been.
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A hint of bitterness in Reeve's voice? Absolutely. Because he'd been on the receiving end of that, and all thanks to Tony.
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Maybe Jon was just telling people now.
"If that's what it takes," Tony tested, tilting his head attentively for Reeve's reaction, if he had some kind of moral stance against it and might have to be kept in the dark further down the line, or just a personal one.
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"He seems... free with it, if it suits his ends," Reeve mused. "So he will no doubt wish to use it here."
Yep, that's probably a sign of someone that has been on the receiving end.
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"He's not malicious," he murmured, not sure what exactly he was defending against, but in his experience the invasive compulsion had been very much Tony's fault, and he wasn't about to just accuse Reeve of that outright. Whatever Jon had done to Tommy, that one probably wasn't Tommy's fault in any way. "If you talk to him, he'd..." Tony suggested vaguely, twisting an aimless hand in the air, hoping he didn't have to go any further than that and Reeve would assure him that he wasn't icing Jon out, too. Neither of them deserved that, whatever happened between them.
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Which was rude.
"He said that I 'won' and you were 'mine now'. That I stole you from him."
This? This had been the problem he'd had originally. This had been why he had thought it would be better to be out of their way. But early on in the catacombs or whatever it was under the city, Tony had assured him it was fine.
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"Yeah, maybe let him cool off a bit," he muttered as though this was purely an issue of Reeve and Jon navigating some personality differences that they just had to talk through, as though that little outburst of compulsion wasn't entirely Tony's fault, too, still looking up at the ceiling with his lip raised in discomfort. It took a deep breath before Tony could acknowledge, "He's not my wife, I'm not..." which he did know didn't sound at all like what he was trying to say, but maybe Reeve got it and Tony finally dropped his chin again to search for that acknowledgement, only to twist his mouth to the side apologetically and accept that what he was trying to say didn't really matter. "I shouldn't have put you in that position," he corrected. "I didn't think--" No, he wasn't making excuses, both of them already hated him and he did earn that. "I didn't think." He hadn't earned ruining their lives over it, though, so he suggested again, "You should talk to him."
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Which was not fair. Not fair at all. And was why Reeve had been cool and distant. Once more he had been made unwitting villain in his own life. A fact he most definitely did not appreciate.
"If you do not want him romantically, why don't you just spell that out? Or have you told him and laid the blame on me to lessen the blow upon yourself?"
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"I couldn't deliver for him," he tried to thread into that structure, free hand over his heart as though to indicate himself, then curling in the fabric to hang there limply. Not for lack of trying, Tony definitely tried to give Jon everything he wanted, but he had an unavoidable history of not living up to expectations. D.A.T.A. still wasn't finished, and Tony still hadn't gotten them home yet. "And that's not worth constantly yelling at me to take care of myself," he said to explain all of the joys Jon was getting out of that relationship, between the bug guts and the fish guts and dying on him, it must have been exhausting. "So--it doesn't have anything to do with you. No one blamed you. You're just..." Tony had to squeeze his eyes shut tighter, nails pressing into his palm through the fabric, because trying to put Reeve into this context left him saying, "Easy to talk to," which was traumatic when Reeve obviously felt differently. "And kind and analytical, and you understand what it's like to fuck up so bad that you have to put the work in to make it up to a whole planet and try to make it right." Tony melted further down against his knee, not sure what else he was supposed to do when he didn't want to push all of that away. He was trying to give Reeve whatever he wanted, too.
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"You are my friend, Tony, and I have no intention of that changing. However, I do find myself... distressed by the position you have put me in. You are someone who understands me, to a degree. That does not mean that I want you for the long term. We're... too alike. And in the ways we are not, we are not compatible."
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"I know. Sorry," he offered for his general personality deficiency, and Reeve putting up with it to get what he needed in the short term. "Hey," he added, with less energy than he could usually muster, "you know there's a long term. Can't be that pessimistic about all of this. You just need to recharge your batteries; after a nap, a protein bomb, we hit the ground running and figure out what happened to us here, we'll be home in no time."
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"It's fine. Strangely enough, I think I've more than come to terms with the idea that I'm not going to date you. But I think I can... I think today has reminded me that I can work with you. And I don't know what the rest will be like, especially not with the mood Jon is in. Perhaps in time you'll make proper peace with him and then we can figure out what we're about beyond working together."
And there probably shouldn't be anything, but Reeve can't guarantee it. There was undeniably an eagerness they shared for certain pass times. Nothing to say they wouldn't fall into it once again.
"You need to sleep too, Tony."
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With a deep breath to prepare himself, Tony uncurled again, releasing Reeve's hand to stretch his legs out and drop his head back against the console. "Don't worry about me, I can do this with my eyes closed. See?" He smiled, eyes closed as promised, as though Reeve could actually see Tony was doing anything other than sitting on the floor while he knit their communicator network back together carefully around the fickle framework of the Agrii ship.
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He would move closer, or move away, but the hands on his knee feel like an anchor. Like he shouldn't go elsewhere. Which he can accept. But then... then the man is moving away just a bit. Was it wrong that he hated the distance? Yep. So he just moves to lean against Tony. A little.
"Talented man, Tony. Very talented."
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"No amputation needed. I've done a lot worse to myself. Though normally with cure spells to help with it. And there is no way your ship is getting a jacuzzi when it could be on mine."