Jesus! [ tony hisses in surprise, flapping backwards in the water, his heart rabbiting. eyes shut, he practices the breathing yinsen taught him again. there's no threat here, just simba. even if simba knows about this weakness and can easily overpower him with weight alone and hold him under–
he's making progress. tony can swim around underwater. the moment his lungs ache even the tiniest bit, though, he kicks to the surface. he can hold his breath for longer, but his hindbrain starts yelling, mayday! mayday! staying under after that point requires concentrated effort.
how long was simba watching, anyway? ] I'm not torturing myself, if that's what you're thinking, [ tony grouses. he's getting tired of being called crazy. ] This is just ... exposure therapy.
[That's it, a hum that rumbles in his chest. He doesn't know the first damn thing about therapy - the kind Tony's referring to - but he's fairly certain that's not what a professional would recommend. On the other hand, he knows instinctively how hard it is to admit to a weakness, even when you're trying to overcome it.]
Suppose that's a more literal method of drowning your problems.
[Not that he's noticed anything about Tony's drinking habits. Of course not.]
[ tony glares and breaststrokes to the shallow end, where he can at least sit on the steps with some dignity while he waits for simba to leave. contrary to popular belief, he doesn't always need an audience. this is definitely one of those times. simba probably just needs to report whatever next thing is too small for him, which turns out might be the house itself? tony supposes the gion needs to exercise somehow. ]
Cabin fever already? [ he sits on a step in the water and slicks back his hair. ] Pretty much the whole promontory. Secluded beach, too. Stay on the southern side of the hill and you'll be fine.
[He can't complain about the generous accommodations, and the house itself is more than large enough, but he's used to running a lot, and as much as he sleeps, his body needs movement, too. It's a strange balance - but also he's getting more calories, and he has more energy.]
I'll be careful.
[Which is pretty much a given, but he feels the need to say it.]
[ tony has thought of converting a spare guest room into a home gym. might be nice to not feel sore after hours in the armor. could even give it a boxing ring for happy to properly teach him. he should follow through on that... ]
Yup. Thursday, [ tony confirms, unenthused. he doesn't really celebrate thanksgiving. usually he's invited to some bigwig's shindig, but it's mainly that boring (lonely) holiday between the halloween and christmas parties. ]
[You know, if Tony buys it, but that's a minor detail.]
I'd even share. [He gives Tony a wry grin.]
Or ham, if you want.
[He's gone years - decades - without human contact, and now that he has it, he's hungry for more. He knows Tony's busy, that he obviously has plenty of other things to do, but he enjoys his company, even if he doesn't understand half of what he says. Jarvis is nice, but at the end of the day, he's still just a disembodied voice.]
[ tony lost his appetite for thanksgiving when he lost his parents. even before then it wasn't exactly a happy affair. after they died he tried having thanksgiving dinner when invited to obie's (stane's) place before stane got divorced, and rhodey and his mother have opened their home to him before, but it felt so pathetic being a grown man intruding on someone else's family. so tony made up his own tradition of drinking and having sex, which didn't differ much from other holidays (or regular days, to be fair).
this year was gonna be different, he already knew, because he's officially dating lina, but it's also just now hitting tony that he's not going to be home alone. simba's here. what's more, simba wants to celebrate with him–for lack of any other options, granted, but still. he guesses them lonely assholes have to stick together.
some of tony's sour mood from his "therapy" lifts. ] You just want more food, [ he teases. after a last glance to the water, he stands out of it and quickly wraps up in a towel. ]
[He just shrugs philosophically, pretending to be a little sheepish.]
Yeah, but the sides are all yours. Just let me have most of the bird.
[Not that he really remembers having turkey on Thanksgiving, but he knows that's the traditional fare. And, hell, he doesn't have to eat steak all the time. (Yeah, he's been dining largely on mountain goat for years, any variety is a luxury beyond imagining. Give him a week of civilization and now he wants a varied diet, or as varied as meat can get.)]
You got yourself a deal. [ tony wipes off the excess dripping with a second towel. ] Speaking of food, I picked a butcher shop. Should have an arrangement next week.
Sounds good. The meat oughta be fresher that way. [He licks his chops in anticipation.] I know fancy steaks get aged, but I like them better when they're newer.
[...admittedly, he only knows this thanks to Jarvis.]
[ running tasks and chores himself–contacting places, shopping and purchasing, making arrangements–has been a novelty. normally all that's pepper's domain (tony didn't even know his card number at first), but aside from hiding simba from her, tony has found himself invested in handling simba's commodities personally. he vowed he'd take care of him, and he meant it. it feels ... good, having a positive impact on people. not good like when he blows up a black-market cache of his weapons, he doesn't feel good about that; it's just something he should've done a long time ago. but good like when he saved those hostages from pirates, or rescued a falling pilot mid-air, or when he walked lina to her car and she kissed him on his cheek. the way he could've been feeling if only he pulled his head out of his ass before he had the truth shoved in his face and lodged into his chest. hindsight, 20/20.
but if he had, maybe he wouldn't have been in that desert, wouldn't have become iron man, and wouldn't have stumbled over his murder-circus-runaway savior. his ... his possible friend. maybe. so, maybe, everything happened the way it was supposed to. god's plan or whatever, his mother would claim.
all that doesn't mean he has to be interested in simba's meat talk, though. ] Uh-huh. [ tony drapes the towel over his head like a wig. ] As much as I'd love to discuss culinary intricacies with you, you comin' inside or what? [ he motions to the stairs up to his bedroom for simba to go first, gentleman that he is. he needs to rinse the chlorine off, but still wants the company. ] I promise I won't look up your skirt.
He climbs to his feet and heads up the stairs to Tony's room, looking around as he enters. It's decorated in the same expensive minimalist style as the rest of the house; most of the personal touches, he's noticed, are in Tony's workshop. It's almost like the rest of the house is for show, rather than being lived in, and it feels...lonely. Not that he'd really had many personal effects in his cave, either. Once Tony's inside, he sits down on the bed, making a face at the way it shifts under his weight. That damn foam again.]
Although I can't wait to get those pants just so you can stop joking about my skirts.
[ "doesn't mean i wanna see your coconuts again," tony lightly retorts, following behind, quiet otherwise for the short trek. he does, however, bat once at simba's tail swaying below the bedsheet like a kitten distracted by a yarn rope. if simba looks back, tony meets him with big, very innocent eyes.
he heads straight for his bathroom once inside and his voice drifts out through the door, which he leaves open, ] I'll find something else.
Just means you're on my mind! [ tony shouts back before the shower switches on and drowns out all else. he'll be a few minutes. make yourself comfortable. ]
[While Tony's in the shower, he heads downstairs and grabs his tablet. While he's not adept at using it yet, he's still figured out a fair bit, and he sprawls out on the bed and brings up the history book he's currently reading. His tail twitches idly as he reclines and waits for Tony to finish up in the shower.]
[ "you still there, simba?" is called out when the shower shuts off. after confirmation and a quick exchange, tony stays in the bathroom for several minutes longer with the sound of cap lids popping and the faucet running on and off.
when he finally exits, he asks, ] What do you think? [ and waits for simba's eyes on him. tony is wearing only a smirk and a white towel wrapped around his hips low enough to threaten falling off. once he has simba's attention he spreads his arms out and rotates to model each angle. ] I've decided to match with you for the night in a show of solidarity. Personally I think I wear it better.
[He's seen plenty of nude men before (even if it's a blur), but none that have ever clearly been showing off for him. It's...confusing, really. He shifts slightly on the bed.]
Were you considering not? [ tony says with an amused tilt of his head over his shoulder, facing simba backwards. twisting like that deepens the natural slope of his back, his spine a subtle groove above the swell of his ass. ]
[Well, he's definitely not taking it off now. Or moving from where he is. Thankfully, the fur hides the blush he can feel rising in his cheeks.
It's just because he wants to draw Tony like that, he tells himself. Never mind that he can't draw - that a pencil sized for his fingers wouldn't have a point fine enough for detail work. He itches to capture the curve of Tony's spine, the muscles of his shoulders standing out against his back.]
No, I just meant - in general. No need for either of us to walk around naked.
The exhibitionist in me decrees otherwise, but all right. I'll bend, [ tony says, turning around. he considers his next move. he has no real plan for the night. if he were alone, he'd putter around the shop, tinker with the ford engine, or play some xbox. if he weren't dating lina, he'd find a girl to spend the night with. but neither of those conditions are valued positive. tony doesn't want them to be, so he needs to make conversation. keep simba's interest. he ends up rolling with what comes to mind fastest: ] You know, you're actually the first guy I've let into my bed. [ ... well, he's not gonna backpedal. tony lies down perpendicular to simba and leans far back on his elbows like he might pull a chain and splash a bucket of water on himself, smiling boyishly.
it's effortless on his part, or unconscious, the way he displays his body. his belly is still rounded out a little from a lifestyle of easy luxury and less-than-stellar food choices, even after converting much of that to muscle (and plain weight loss) in the cave, but he's chipping away at the remaining body fat there. the rest of him is leaner. his muscles are filling out, growing more defined. ]
[He just snorts at that as he glances up from his tablet.] Coulda had a better choice for your first time, then.
[The majority of his romance-related memories - and they're more like feelings than anything else, remembered sensations - involve rejection and disappointment. Even if he barely remembers being that scrawny runt, he still knows what it feels like. He still sees himself like that - and, muscles aside, it's not like he's much of a catch like this.]
Could've had worse, too, [ tony points out softly. after a moment, he turns onto his hip, toward simba, his supporting elbow and bicep touching simba's waist. ] So whatcha readin', Meow Mix?
[The tip of his tail twitches and brushes against Tony's leg, the mildest of warnings. In truth, he gets the feeling that nicknames are affectionate for Tony.]
Trying to catch up on decades of history so I have some idea what you're talking about most of the time. [But he does get the silent hint and sets the tablet on the mattress.] Reading about the space race right now, and the rest of the Cold War.
[ with an unreadable glance at the tablet, tony says, ] Hn. Sounds like homework, [ and then rolls onto his knees next to simba's head. he leans over him on his hands, equal parts puppy begging to play and wolf closing in on its next meal. ] And all work and no play makes Jack a dull boy, [ tony lectures wisely. ]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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he's making progress. tony can swim around underwater. the moment his lungs ache even the tiniest bit, though, he kicks to the surface. he can hold his breath for longer, but his hindbrain starts yelling, mayday! mayday! staying under after that point requires concentrated effort.
how long was simba watching, anyway? ] I'm not torturing myself, if that's what you're thinking, [ tony grouses. he's getting tired of being called crazy. ] This is just ... exposure therapy.
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[That's it, a hum that rumbles in his chest. He doesn't know the first damn thing about therapy - the kind Tony's referring to - but he's fairly certain that's not what a professional would recommend. On the other hand, he knows instinctively how hard it is to admit to a weakness, even when you're trying to overcome it.]
Suppose that's a more literal method of drowning your problems.
[Not that he's noticed anything about Tony's drinking habits. Of course not.]
Hey, how much land do you have out here?
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Cabin fever already? [ he sits on a step in the water and slicks back his hair. ] Pretty much the whole promontory. Secluded beach, too. Stay on the southern side of the hill and you'll be fine.
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[He can't complain about the generous accommodations, and the house itself is more than large enough, but he's used to running a lot, and as much as he sleeps, his body needs movement, too. It's a strange balance - but also he's getting more calories, and he has more energy.]
I'll be careful.
[Which is pretty much a given, but he feels the need to say it.]
Jarvis reminded me that Thanksgiving's soon.
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Yup. Thursday, [ tony confirms, unenthused. he doesn't really celebrate thanksgiving. usually he's invited to some bigwig's shindig, but it's mainly that boring (lonely) holiday between the halloween and christmas parties. ]
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[You know, if Tony buys it, but that's a minor detail.]
I'd even share. [He gives Tony a wry grin.]
Or ham, if you want.
[He's gone years - decades - without human contact, and now that he has it, he's hungry for more. He knows Tony's busy, that he obviously has plenty of other things to do, but he enjoys his company, even if he doesn't understand half of what he says. Jarvis is nice, but at the end of the day, he's still just a disembodied voice.]
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this year was gonna be different, he already knew, because he's officially dating lina, but it's also just now hitting tony that he's not going to be home alone. simba's here. what's more, simba wants to celebrate with him–for lack of any other options, granted, but still. he guesses them lonely assholes have to stick together.
some of tony's sour mood from his "therapy" lifts. ] You just want more food, [ he teases. after a last glance to the water, he stands out of it and quickly wraps up in a towel. ]
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Yeah, but the sides are all yours. Just let me have most of the bird.
[Not that he really remembers having turkey on Thanksgiving, but he knows that's the traditional fare. And, hell, he doesn't have to eat steak all the time. (Yeah, he's been dining largely on mountain goat for years, any variety is a luxury beyond imagining. Give him a week of civilization and now he wants a varied diet, or as varied as meat can get.)]
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[He raises his eyebrows with interest.]
Sounds good. The meat oughta be fresher that way. [He licks his chops in anticipation.] I know fancy steaks get aged, but I like them better when they're newer.
[...admittedly, he only knows this thanks to Jarvis.]
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but if he had, maybe he wouldn't have been in that desert, wouldn't have become iron man, and wouldn't have stumbled over his murder-circus-runaway savior. his ... his possible friend. maybe. so, maybe, everything happened the way it was supposed to. god's plan or whatever, his mother would claim.
all that doesn't mean he has to be interested in simba's meat talk, though. ] Uh-huh. [ tony drapes the towel over his head like a wig. ] As much as I'd love to discuss culinary intricacies with you, you comin' inside or what? [ he motions to the stairs up to his bedroom for simba to go first, gentleman that he is. he needs to rinse the chlorine off, but still wants the company. ] I promise I won't look up your skirt.
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[SHRUG.
He climbs to his feet and heads up the stairs to Tony's room, looking around as he enters. It's decorated in the same expensive minimalist style as the rest of the house; most of the personal touches, he's noticed, are in Tony's workshop. It's almost like the rest of the house is for show, rather than being lived in, and it feels...lonely. Not that he'd really had many personal effects in his cave, either. Once Tony's inside, he sits down on the bed, making a face at the way it shifts under his weight. That damn foam again.]
Although I can't wait to get those pants just so you can stop joking about my skirts.
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he heads straight for his bathroom once inside and his voice drifts out through the door, which he leaves open, ] I'll find something else.
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I'm sure you will. You probably stay up at night just thinking of new things to say.
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when he finally exits, he asks, ] What do you think? [ and waits for simba's eyes on him. tony is wearing only a smirk and a white towel wrapped around his hips low enough to threaten falling off. once he has simba's attention he spreads his arms out and rotates to model each angle. ] I've decided to match with you for the night in a show of solidarity. Personally I think I wear it better.
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[He's seen plenty of nude men before (even if it's a blur), but none that have ever clearly been showing off for him. It's...confusing, really. He shifts slightly on the bed.]
Good thing I'm still wearing a sheet, then.
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It's just because he wants to draw Tony like that, he tells himself. Never mind that he can't draw - that a pencil sized for his fingers wouldn't have a point fine enough for detail work. He itches to capture the curve of Tony's spine, the muscles of his shoulders standing out against his back.]
No, I just meant - in general. No need for either of us to walk around naked.
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it's effortless on his part, or unconscious, the way he displays his body. his belly is still rounded out a little from a lifestyle of easy luxury and less-than-stellar food choices, even after converting much of that to muscle (and plain weight loss) in the cave, but he's chipping away at the remaining body fat there. the rest of him is leaner. his muscles are filling out, growing more defined. ]
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[The majority of his romance-related memories - and they're more like feelings than anything else, remembered sensations - involve rejection and disappointment. Even if he barely remembers being that scrawny runt, he still knows what it feels like. He still sees himself like that - and, muscles aside, it's not like he's much of a catch like this.]
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Trying to catch up on decades of history so I have some idea what you're talking about most of the time. [But he does get the silent hint and sets the tablet on the mattress.] Reading about the space race right now, and the rest of the Cold War.
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