revivalproject | Archivist Catch-All

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Archivist Catch-All

WHO: Jon & YOU
WHERE: Coruscant - Various places
WHAT: Coruscant Event catch-all. Some open, some closed prompts. See what your little Eldritch avatar has been doing...
WHEN: Coruscant Event
WARNINGS: One of them includes Tony. Approach at own risk.

The Perfect Gift [ OPEN ]

Coruscant is- A lot. A lot of city, a lot of people a lot of- Everything. Even for Jon, who has been living in London for a good decade now. But even London seems unnaturally small compared to Coruscant. And yet living there has ensured that Jon isn't intimidated by crowds. In fact, he has come to find himself quite capable of adjusting himself to their situation and as he learns more about the planet and its inhabitants, Jon also learns more about how to navigate it and find that which he is looking for.

Which proves invaluable While out to acquire goods and supplies he deems useful for their inevitable return to Temba.

It's a long list Jon has for himself. A variety of clothes and footwear are on it, including some actual swimwear, equipment and supplies for his little chemistry lab, writing utensils, notepads, new variants of tea and other luxuries, a couple of handy little tools and - Gifts. And especially those gifts prove to be the difficult part. Since the person Jon is trying to find a gift for is none other than Tony. The man that tries to fix everything and constantly makes gifts for others himself. Finding a gift for such a man is harder than one might wish to think.

Apparently a selection of treats are about to become part of the assortment of gifts Jon has already picked up and he is currently studying the packaging of what may be actual chocolate. One can never go wrong with some sweets and a good wine. Jon smiles softly to himself and his attention drifts over to something that is either a futuristic bottle opener or a very peculiar toy, making him frown before reaching out to pick it up, vaguely addressing either the person next to him or no one in particular. "No idea what this is, but- I'm curious."

Being A Monster [ OPEN ]

Some may say it is ill-advised for Jon to be heading down into the lower levels of this multi-layered city. And yet here he is, his worn clothes and too large poncho making him easily melt into the crowd of beings who ignore his seeking stare. A stare that isn't seeking for difficulties with finding its target, but rather because every being down here proves to be a remarkably suited target for his needs.

He takes the easy route and turns into the next bar he passes. There are plenty of dreadful stories here for him to request, confine to memory and later record. Which will have to wait until they are back in Temba, since his tape recorder has not been brought along on this trip.

It's later that night - Or maybe early the next morning that the Archivist returns to the hotel they are all staying in. His steps swaying a little from the alcohol, but a contentment rarely seen by many on his expression. He even gives a cheerful wave to anyone else he encounters at this odd hour. "Someone is up early!"

Among Force Sensitives [ CLOSED to Obi-Wan ]

It's not without a healthy degree of trepidation that Jon walks up to the intimidating structure that he has been told to be the Jedi Temple. He is dressed in a set of new clothes, which he assumes to be local enough in style and clear of the wear and grime of the clothes he has been wearing down over the past months on Agra 10. Well fitting grey pants covering the better part of dark boots and a light, long-sleeved tunic paired with a very functional messenger bag is just one outfit the Archivist has come to pick up so far and he finds himself particularly happy to now own some footwear that isn't meant to be purely decorative while one spends the better part of the day behind a desk.

Though even his new attire doesn't fully keep Jon from pausing briefly in his steps to look up the massive building. Home and training ground of the Jedi. Jedi like Cal and Obi-Wan and Ezra. Beings sensitive to an energy field called The Force.

Beings that can sense something is not right with him.

Jon swallows once, hand tightening around the strap of his bag before he pushes forward, expression set into a stubborn set of determination. It will be fine. The Jedi Master has agreed to accompany him into the Temple, meaning Jon won't be heading in there by himself. It will be fine.

At the top of the stairs, he comes to another stop, finding himself looking up at massive columns of a height that raises questions for the Archivist. Questions he will be keeping to himself at least for the time being before taking his attention back down and looking around for the man he is supposed to meet up here at the very entrance of the Temple, muttering to himself. "...Christ. I hope he hasn't forgotten."

It's a date! [ CLOSED to Tony ]

New clothes that actually fit him and that Jon feels good in are but one of the things this planet has provided. Another thing is the chance to get his hair cut back to a more reasonable length, get the items required for a decent shave and of course have a proper bath. Small luxuries that add noticeably to Jon feeling human again. And to provide him with the confidence to ask Tony out for a proper date. How many chances like this will they get anyway?

The beings tending to their needs at their hotel have been quite helpful to him with setting everything up and recommending the right places not too far away. From a good, rather exclusive restaurant high up in a tall spire looming over Coruscant's upper level along with similar, yet distant skyscrapers and providing an excellent view to an artificially created and very unique park at the very base of said spire to the suggestion of a sensual and very private message provided by specially programmed droids up in their hotel's poshest suite offered by the beings in charge of the hotel tending to their guest's needs. Being that are remarkably eager to please this easy source of good credits. And after all these months on Agra 10, Jon has very little qualms about spending what the Agrii provide them with.

Having arrived a little early, Jon has already been seated at one of the rather few tables the restaurant actually possesses. All set apart and separated with strategically placed pots filled with colorful alien flora and a stunning view out of the large windows making up the entire outer walls of the place. A soft tune hangs in the air that Jon listens idly to while looking out of the window, over the city and every once in a while daring a glance down, feeling a bit thankful that Mike Crew hasn't instilled an even greater fear of heights into him. His hands are loosely clasped in front of him on the table, having very little to do at the moment.

When he hears a set of footsteps approaching, Jon turns his attention away from the window to greet who he assumes to be Tony with a gently, yet genuine smile.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Jon simply nods once, frowning slightly, but not unfamiliar with such a pragmatic approach. "Hm. I see." Which doesn't mean he understands what sort of problem can only be fixed by launching someone into space. But at the same time is Tony's world one of super heroes. And those tend to come with their own brand of world-endangering problems.

Not trying to picture any of these problems in too much detail, Jon lets Tony direct their path towards the lake, tilting his head a little to glance up towards Tony at the question. Then he shakes his head. "I try to think Tim got what he had been looking for in the end at least. I never met his brother, but I listened to the statement Martin convinced him to record on the event that killed his brother and subsequently made him join the Institute. I was the one that requested him to be moved to the Archives as one of my assistants. It's my fault he got tangled up down there with the worst of it all. And after Prentiss, after... The worms," He raises a hand to gesture at his face and the cluttering of scars on it. "I got very paranoid after the attack. Didn't trust anyone I worked with but suspected everyone. I followed them, spied on their homes, searched their desks... Tim hated it especially and even more so after finding out he couldn't even quit the job. In the end, he blamed me for ruining his life, and... I can't say he was wrong."

A pause.

"He did die blowing up that wax museum and ending the Unknowing. He may not have forgiven me, but he saved the world and avenged his brother. I... survived." Maybe not entirely human anymore, but he survived. And in a way Jon still feels guilty for it.

"There's no way you could have known..." Tony started, but was already tilting his head apologetically before he got very far, because that had to be something Jon had heard before. It wasn't a statement that ever really helped, anyway, and Tony had seen heroes commit some heinous acts with the best intentions and never quite recover from it. The solution turned out to not let them have to be the one to do it in the first place, not platitudes.

Like Bruce. If Jon was trusting Tony, Tony could maybe admit to a little more. "I met Bruce when I was at Cambridge, actually, well before Iron Man or the Avengers, and I was just a kid and he was giving a lecture on biophysics. One of the smartest people I ever met, I thought he was brilliant and engaging, and he didn't like me from the start," Tony explained, managing a breathy laugh, brow raised at Jon. The difference was, Bruce never warmed to Tony much, but Tony had proven he very much deserved that in the end. "We worked in similar fields, military contracts, and...So, he does this experiment. Biophysics. Massive radiation, rewrites him from the ground up. It should have killed him, but it makes something...amazing. It makes the Hulk."

This was the really complicated part, making Tony consider the strangely frozen sky as he tried to come up with the best way to explain what the Hulk was. "Bruce was still there. But he could also become this invincible powerhouse, it was like a manifestation of all of the times he had been hit and wished he was stronger. It was anger. And he had so little control over it.

He was an Avenger, from the start. There would be no team without him, that's the truth. And he saved the world, like Tim, burning every time, but the more he burned the stronger he was. The problem was, he wasn't always on the team, and he was unstoppable. Both the rock and the hard place, you can't hit him, you can't slow him down, and the Hulk at his worst would raze cities."

If there was any way for Jon to really understand what the Hulk was without ever actually confronting the power of him, he must have seen where this was going, and Tony raised his hand over Jon's shoulder to the sky, surrendering to that force none of them could figure out how to control. "It was S.H.I.E.L.D. that approached me, figuring, if anyone could figure out a way to kill him, it would be me," he said, voice pitching high and veering more hysterical with the humourless grin Tony tried to put on, like it was an absolute gas that this was his reliable talent, how wonderful was his dazzling mind. "And I...of course I could. I didn't just spy on my friends, I had a kill switch for every one of them. Just in case." Even with Jon right there, definitely more stable and happier than he had been even around Tony a year ago in his choice to trust more, making in clear how damaged this had left his relationship with Tim with no chance now to recover, Tony was not entirely convinced this was even wrong. Someone had to commit the heinous acts.

"But...I couldn't do that. S.H.I.E.L.D. wasn't wrong, we couldn't let the destruction continue, and they weren't going to stop until they put him down, with or without my help. So, we compromised. I made sure he wasn't a problem anymore." Tony gave a slightly helpless shrug to that, because he knew it hadn't been the correct choice, he should have been able to defend Bruce better. Worst of all, he added, "I didn't tell him, I didn't ask him, I tricked him. And I think I did that because I knew...If I had asked, he would have agreed. He'd want me to kill him, too."

It's true, though. Jon hadn't known. No one of them had known anything. They had all just been living their lives and going about their jobs and suddenly everything had turned into a hellscape. Jon knows that as good as everyone else. And yet it changes nothing about the guilt he feels.

And so he doesn't argue, but rather listens to the story Tony has decided to share with him. Which is a lot. Not entirely surprising given the Earth he is from, but still. It is a lot.

He has been told about the Avengers before, this group of heroes protecting the Earth. But that's only the public view, isn't it. What Tony puts out here is a glance behind the curtains at the mess that arises when powerful beings aren't always in control of their actions and abilities. It's only natural that at some point people would want to be assured there are measure in place to stop a wave of pure violence and destruction.

But it shouldn't have been Tony's job to do this. These people he was supposed to work with and called his friends...

Once Tony is finished, Jon takes a moment to unpack everything. Though he makes no move to pull away from Tony. "...Jesus Christ, Tony... I'm sorry you were put in that position." He may have been the only person capable to do the thing, but that doesn't make it a fair request by any means. And yet there isn't anything to be done about the fact now. It's in the past. It has happened. What remains is the guilt and the mental scars left behind by being burdened with such responsibility.

"I assume S.H.I.E.L.D. ... They hold a certain authority on your Earth." Whoever these people are, they don't exist on the Earth Jon is familiar with.

By then, they were slowly circling the lake, and Tony had begun to be able to see the seams and the wires, dissecting the artificiality of the place under the mask of natural growth and finding stability in the systems. Telling Jon all of that was an act of violence, just as carefully constructed but every detail a hoist of a guillotine that Jon chose to stay. Tony couldn't be sure if it was permanent, but pressed his appreciation for Jon's sympathy in a kiss to his temple and dropped his hand down Jon's back to rub between his shoulders for the places where their guilt had intersected, and draw their walk to a stop.

"God, see, your Earth is pure anarchy, I don't get it," Tony accused, brow furrowed and sounding genuinely frustrated without the spark of teasing brightness that was choking under the ash in his gut. While he unhooked the lush cape he wore to carefully spread it over the grass at the still edge of the lake, he explained, "Strategic Hazard Intervention, Espionage and Logistics Directorate. International gig, global threats, super spies, you know." He offered a hand to Jon to help him sit without grass stains now on his new clothes, and where Tony could maybe finally collapse instead of trying to carry all of this any further. "They'd probably know all about your weird wax museums, should get that started over there."

"And from what little I have just learned about them, they would make formidable agents for the Eye." Jon notes with a small sigh, but not without an appreciative smile towards Tony for the offered hand which Jon accepts while taking a seat on their improvised blanket. That hardly has been the reason for Tony to pick up a cape, he guesses. But it's still a sweet idea.

It's not untrue. If mall security guards make viable agents for Beholding, then an entire organization meant to supervise the entire planet might just be a dream come true. Though the political hurdles that had to be taken for such an organization to even be remotely tolerated would be immense. And then there is public acceptance and the very likely lack of it as well.

Jon waits for Tony to sit down with him. "It's quite nice here. I... I hope you like it." He wants to ask how Tony feels, but those sorts of inquiries will have to wait for now.

It wasn't clear to Tony if that was meant to be disparaging and he raised his eyebrows inquisitively, only to immediately figure from his expression that Jon probably hadn't come around on his patron being used as a force for good. And he would have looked so cute in a S.H.I.E.L.D. uniform, too.

Tony took his time settling, shoulder close to Jon's and knee bent up against his chest protectively with his arms wrapped around it to start his meticulous work. He was still clutching the napkin from the restaurant, which he shook out over the grass after crushing it thoroughly on their way down and leaving a powdering of crumbs next to the cape. Carefully but quickly, he worked to crease and fold it as he replied, "It's, you know," with the shrug of one shoulder, because it wasn't a great time to ask. "I mean, don't--it's, it would be romantic, very thoughtful, couldn't have picked a better place," he tried to assure Jon, and took a deep breath because he was clearly trying to salvage this date and Tony was not helping. Only, it came back out in an abrupt rush, a hysterical laugh that Tony tried to suppress with the back of his hand against his mouth that he bit before he could cry instead.

"Fury, S.H.I.E.L.D. guy in charge, he only has one eye. Stupid," he explained, shaking his head, because it wasn't even worth trying to justify where that outburst came from. He was finished his boat by then, anyway, and held it up in his palm for Jon's approval.

No, Jon still doesn't believe any of the powers would let themselves be used to do good. At least not without causing terror at the same time to feed upon. Not that Jon wouldn't appreciate a better outlook onto his future, but as far as his present knowledge goes, there isn't much in it that isn't centered around the suffering of others.

Pulling one of his own knees up to rest an arm upon it Jon watches as Tony works on the napkin, curious as of what Tony has planned for the piece of abducted fabric and just leaning ever so slightly against the other man's shoulder.

The sudden laugh is a surprise. One that has Jon blink up at Tony. "Ah..." Is his immediate response, but before he can say anything else, Jon finds himself presented with the little boat and confusion turns into a genuine, uncomplicated joy. "I mean," Jon tips his head a little to the side and reaches out with his hand to trace the lines of the boat resting in Tony's hand with his fingers before carefully lifting it up and bringing it closer. "One eye can be plenty to see. And... He seems to do his job well."

Fury's competence in general was inarguable, but how good he was at his job was debatable and a bold claim to make for someone who didn't even know what S.H.I.E.L.D. was until a minute ago, so Tony grimaced and tilted his head in dubious acceptance of the premise. Sure, it wasn't the eye that was the problem. He hadn't expected Jon to take the boat, but gladly leaned back on his hands with one planted behind Jon where Tony could tip closer, indicating with his chin toward the water to invite Jon to do the honours and launch it when he was ready. It wasn't exactly an extravagant affair, but it would be difficult to say whether Steve and Bucky deserved a funeral or if they might turn up again in a couple weeks from a nap. A napkin boat in an artificial lake would have to suffice.

Sitting on the grass and seeing some of his dread away with the boat, Tony finally managed, "Steve told me, while ago, that he and Barnes had chosen to stay." Even that was knotted up and complicated, unclear if it was tragic or hopeful, tangling up in Tony's throat again and forcing him to abandon the thought with another shrug like he could just dismiss it, then try to shape more of the thought in a whisper delicate kiss where he leaned close to the back of Jon's neck.

Jon has never claimed to be a good judge of character, especially without ever having met the person in question. Though he will at least expect a certain level of competence from the person in charge of a huge, international agency apparently set on protecting their very planet.

Now reaching the lake requires a bit of shifting on Jon's end, but the little boat floats easily and drifts off with a little nudge of his fingers. Though what exactly Tony intends to represent in it isn't quite clear to Jon at that point. He settles back into his spot with a raised brow in response to Tony's words. "...right. They wanted to stay together." Jon muses pensively and turns his head enough to glance back at Tony. "Maybe they still are- Together, I mean. Wherever they are now." A small mercy to believe in.

Tony was slow to acknowledge Jon settling back again, watching the boat's slow drift and the ripples in the water catching the light of the sunset like embers. They should have set it on fire; now it was just going to slowly wilt and sink into the artificial current. With his mouth twisted in disappointment, Tony shifted his weight to give the boat an ever-mocking salute, wrist loose and noncommittal, and his hand dropping to his chest where it flicked a finger toward the napkin's ephemeral progress.

"They came in together, they left together..." he agreed, letting Jon draw the conclusion. It made sense, if they were catching the same ride. Why their captors would suddenly grant the pair that mercy, Tony couldn't fathom--maybe it was just easier, in the machinations of whatever cosmic machine they were using to throw people across dimensions, not to bother untangling a bond like that. Gravity. "Did I tell you about gravity yet?" Tony asked, because the thought kept coming back to him, present from the first time he had talked to Steve on Risa. With his hand out to press two fingers alongside each other, he said, "Parallel universes, perfect balance, until they meet..." then twisted his fingers together, inexorably linked, the closer the two celestial bodies the more impossible it was to draw them away from each other once more. Maybe he had told Jon this already, maybe he could follow. "Did you read that book I gave you?," Tony continued, then waved it off, because Reed had effectively the opposite theory about parallel universes and polarity and now it seemed so pessimistic to Tony, that the multitudes of the universe were holding each other apart.

The boat doesn't hold Jon's attention as much as Tony's reaction towards it, even though he refrains from commenting about it. Right. Maybe they should have set it on fire.

But then Tony starts talking and effectively gives Jon a whole different focus and a whole new idea to wrap his mind around. "...haven't finished it yet." He admits with his eyes on Tony's crossed fingers. Then he reaches out one of his hands and places it over Tony's, two of his fingers around the ones Tony has used for his little example. "In Temba many universes come together, not quite parallel to one another with little balance. More like a messy knot." And yet still easy enough disentangled. A thought that makes his heart ache just enough to add tension to Jon's jaw. Their chances to remain together appear ridiculously slim.

That isn't a thought Jon wants to follow, however, so his hand simply closes around Tony's in a way of stubborn defiance. They had this conversation before. And Jon will hold onto what they had agreed on before. He would find a way to find Tony if Tony doesn't find his way to him first.

It didn't feel so random as this knot to Tony, though as he tried to assemble his evidence, easing Jon's hold on his hand into a more orderly link of their fingers, it didn't feel as strong as it sounded in his head. "You think so? Steve and Bucky, okay, listen, literally the same life, a definable divergence in their universes; that plane goes down in the war, they both die on it, and in one universe it's Steve that wakes up in the future, and in the other it's Barnes. Both of them become Captain America, same path, just next to each other. A little nudge together, and they come crashing into each other," he started, and that part still felt like it meant something, it was the one that had put the thought into Tony's head. Maybe it was because he didn't really know the details, and only saw the clean lines--not that their respective deaths might have been different than the Captain America he knew, or that their relationship could have started much more tumultuously, that bond born out of a shared trauma more than a shared history. It was already in that realization that Tony started to sound less confident as he continued, "I thought maybe I could see the pattern then. Maybe, for me, it was Reeve--the way he talked about trying to make it up to a planet that he had destroyed for a few bucks. Maybe it was Sansa, you know, Stark, that couldn't be a coincidence."

That one was definitely weak, but not nearly as intractable as any thread that Tony tried to tie between himself and Jon. Instead, he felt constantly reminded of how different they were, and the vulnerable space between them that would have been easy to wedge apart, and that Tony tried to close by tugging on Jon's hand then to draw him against his shoulder.

Jon listens to Tony's words and easily lets himself be pulled closer, head dropping to the side to rest against that offered shoulder while he keeps his eyes on their hands.

"We really don't have much in common, have we." He observes and his other hand moves to join their two joined ones, carefully tracing the spaces where their fingers meet as he lets out a soft little laugh. "And yet here we are. Neither of us has run away and- Maybe that can be what we have in common. I know doing so would hurt me, deep in my chest. And I want to say that is another thing we share. We create our own gravity. Unrelated to history, destiny or names. Maybe it's not always perfect, but it... It feels right."

That wasn't supposed to be what Jon took away from the theory, but the tension was hard to ignore, making Tony's chest jump with an unsteady breath even as Jon found some humour in it. "I dunno..." Tony muttered, gaze to the strange dome above them as he searched for that lightness as well, not particularly eager to talk about how much Jon made his chest hurt no matter how close he was. "I've been told I'm pretty clever, you know. And, listen, we don't all have great taste, but I am objectively sexy, I've run the numbers," he offered, sounding quite serious working a finger free from Jon's hold to curl carefully around and secure his wandering hand as well before Jon could start retaliating. "We're not that different."

Anything Tony had to say, anyway, wouldn't feel nearly as lyrical as 'We create our own gravity'. He had thought destiny sounded romantic, maybe because it would be impossible to control, in service of a higher power, a fantasy that Tony didn't really believe in, and he wasn't quite prepared for the passion of choosing to be caught in Jon's orbit. That was much more conscious, a pattern that Tony would have to find for himself, and definitely right. With Jon's hands still trapped away from swatting Tony for calling him clever or sexy, Tony brought them to his lips to kiss his knuckles tenderly.

Tony may be the only person to call him that. And while Jon does react with a flustered look out quiet indignation, he makes no attempt of pulling his hands away. Instead he glances down to where Tony's lips meet his hands before leaning his full weight against Tony's arm with a semi-theatrical sigh. "Alright, that was clever, I'll give you that, Tony. And now I'm trapped. Because that is objectively seductive to watch." Being trapped between Tony's hands and his lips. A gruesome fate, indeed.

After settling to watch for a moment and letting out a content hum, Jon offers: "I don't think it matters how different we are from one another. I know I'm happier when I'm with you. When I can see you, hear you, feel you. Christ, I find myself missing your smell after a while!" And that's a little embarrassing to admit for Jon, resulting in him casting a flustered glance elsewhere.

For once, Jon getting flustered was both entirely his own fault and entirely justified, so it was difficult for Tony to appreciate the glow as he snorted a genuine laugh of surprise at Jon's confession. He hadn't intended to be seductive, but he certainly didn't mean to stop after that kind of encouragement, smiling against Jon's hand in his theatrics, and he was forced to abandon the production to repeat incredulously, "My smell?"

For a second, it was easy to forget the hollow misery in his chest to instead smirk wickedly at Jon, promising that he had just been handed something new to use against Jon any moment that it suited him, like his embarrassing costumed persona. And Tony really meant to take full advantage of Jon's squirming, but when he opened his mouth, what came out was, "You deserve to be happy." He had to give an apologetic shrug for still being maudlin and tried to craft another smile for Jon to add, "It's my honour."

"You smell good, Tony." Jon defends himself with a pout and a tiny half-twist with one of his still captured hands to vaguely indicate a gesture. Then he realizes what he has said. "I mean- I... I don't mean that in any weird way! Just-- I-it's... You know. It's nice. I--"

And that's about all Jon manages to say before ducking his head forward and pressing half of his face against Tony's arm and shoulder to keep himself from saying any more. It leaves him blinking up at Tony's grinning face with but one eye and very little to hide the added layer of pink on his cheeks. He simply smiles instead of hiding and makes a decision. Not necessarily a new one. "I want you to be happy as well, Tony. And- I will do what I can to achieve that."

"It is weird, though, it's already out there, now we both gotta deal with it..." Tony was muttering over Jon's stuttering, sounding dreadfully put upon that his boyfriend was excited by such strange things as the corner of his mouth curled resolutely into a teasing smirk. He did grant Jon the small mercy of untangling their hands to cover his cheek for him, if it was mercy at all and Tony couldn't just feel the flush instead as he traced his thumb through the colour.

Jon didn't really need to tell Tony so clearly that he wanted him to be happy, he showed it in a myriad of both gentle and strange ways, so maybe that was why it made Tony hesitate briefly with a new pinch of tension up his spine before he managed to follow through and press his now apologetic kisses to where he could reach across Jon's hair and hidden face. It wasn't that he didn't want to be happy as well, where he kept on falling short wasn't any fault of Jon's and he could whisper honestly, "You're doing great, boss." It was just, how happy he was capable of being felt like a disappointment.

Teasing Jon was easier, the smile didn't have to be as manufactured, so Tony followed smoothly, "You really have to tone it down, though, we're having a great time, this is a really romantic date, but those people over there, you see them? Like, thirty feet away, yeah, those ones, don't turn around, they can tell how horny you are, it's really not appropriate, try to keep it under control."

Having his hands back means Jon can do something with them again rather than leaving their fate to Tony's whims. Which in itself isn't the worst fate they have ever been submitted to.

And yet while feeling Tony's hand against his cheek and lightly leaning into the touch while at the same time pulling his hand free to bring it around the other man's back, Tony redirects Jon's attention to those potential onlookers. After an initial flinch of course he raises his head to look around with irritation mixed into his still flustered face. "Christ! I will tell them to jog on. Where are they?!" Half a second later his head snaps back to Tony, catching up the the rest and he adds quickly: "I am NOT-! I mean, not like- m-maybe just... I-- Tony!"

No mercy whatsoever this time, Jon was abandoned to the full force of his blushing stuttering while Tony leaned back on both hands, watching Jon with a growing grin of self-satisfaction that softened into glowing adoration as though Jon's accusatory bark of his name was the most devoted petname. With his eyebrows raised, Tony spared a brief glance around them where they were quite blissfully alone on the grass, and probably not because Jon had scared anyone away, then asked, "How was this supposed to go?" He rolled his eyes, shrugging one shoulder, you know, without the bad news part, he was trying to help with the salvage operation even as his boat sank slowly under the still water. "Were you going to seduce me? I'm trying to picture you asking some lucky guy out back home, working up the nerve for the first time, and it's not computing. Maybe in college, while you were dressed as the pirate, you could shout someone into having a coffee with you. I wouldn't be able to say no to that."

The realization that there is, in fact, no one for Jon to scare away only adds to the bright bloom of embarrassment on his face and he lets out a huff of indignation before settling his eyes on Tony again but ending up scratching the back of his own neck. "I- The only times I... Asked someone out was because I believed I had to. That it's what you just... Do. Never quite liked it and a few times- Got too drunk and embarrassed myself."

A shrug in Jon's part and by then one of his hands has already come to grab Tony's sleeve and at least the worst crimson faded from his face. "Please tell me I don't have to actually raise my voice at you if I want you to accompany me back to the hotel."

Tony should have expected that any answer he got wasn't going to be a goofy first date story, but, in hindsight, at least it didn't end up being a sordid tale of death and monsters, either. Drinking too much and fucking it up was almost quaintly pedestrian, and Tony would have bumped his shoulder against Jon's in drunk mess solidarity if he wasn't a little stricken by the idea that Jon thought this date was some kind of functional requirement. Jon grabbing and propositioning him reassured Tony that this wasn't necessarily a problem with him personally, making him breath a baffled laugh of relief, but it was probably worth talking about before Jon started resenting him while organizing dates out of obligation.

For now, Tony assured him with a disarming smile, "You can save that for later," and rolled easily up onto his feet again where he offered a hand of assistance once more. "You don't have to..." he started, twirling his free hand in the air to indicate the whole experience before he was correcting, "We don't have to do this, you know." What the alternative was, Tony wasn't sure, but they had kind of been doing it before today, anyway. "If you don't like it, we can figure out our own thing. I've built more out of less."

"I do want to spend time with you." Jon points out while letting himself be helped back onto his feet, but not without hooking a finger under the cape's collar to bring it up with himself. "I admit that I-- Maybe I tried too hard? I mean- I still enjoy spending this time with you? Being together and- Out?" Outside and among people and even being noticed.

He then actually smiles and offers the cape to Tony once neither of them are standing on it any longer. "But I wouldn't mind figuring out our own thing, either. Doesn't have to be perfect. As long as we enjoy it and each other it'll be fine."

Waving his free hand to dissuade any concern that the plan itself had been flawed, Tony insisted, "Don't get me wrong, I appreciate the attention." Trying very hard for Tony's affection was definitely going to have to remain; taking it away from him now would be cruel, and he certainly didn't mean they should spend less time together. He already felt like he was constantly letting his battery die well before he had the chance to recharge.

He shook out the cape, only to drape it around Jon, the rich fabric velvety and heavy on Jon's shoulders. "I've been on plenty of dates in my life, and, so far, the process has not yielded the expected results. So, maybe you're right, it's something we do, but..." Tony hadn't really thought about it. There was a whole life that he had very consciously constructed because he was supposed to, and more than a few dates had been in service of that image. "I like..." Tony only hesitated briefly, the phrase not quite as distasteful as usual because he didn't really have any control over, "that you're different."

Heavy as the cape may be, there is something reassuring about its weight that prompts a smile. "Different seems fair enough. I think I can accept that." How couldn't he accept being something Tony likes. "And I still love you, Tony." Is added after a brief moment. A little reminder.

"Come on, then." Jon prompts, taking a step closer and casting a somewhat challenging look up at Tony while giving one of his hands the slightest nudge with his own. "Let's find out how the rest of tonight turns out."

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