Mmh! [ tony's eyes light up above his mouthful of pork. he chews impatiently, gesturing with a hand, till he can shove it into one cheek and talk around it, ] I'm taking her to the Venice Canals on Saturday, [ and then finally swallow. saturday is still five days from christmas, but he meant to tell simba about this anyway. ] They decorate. Have boat rides. It's very romantic.
[He can't even be bothered to be surprised by this fact. Tony's proven time and time again that he thinks nothing of taking a quick jaunt halfway across the world just for fun - which, to be fair, is more or less the entire reason why he's here right now.
But still, his dim memories of the holidays involve snipping decorations from scrap paper, the bright burst of juice from an orange. Definitely nothing as fancy as a trip to Europe.]
Sounds nice, [he adds, and he means it. He genuinely wants Tony to get out and enjoy himself.]
Uh, no. [ tony smirks, not unkindly. ] California version. About forty-five minute drive away. I mean, I tried to get her to accept the real deal, but something about having to work for a living.
Oh. [He feels a little foolish for making the mistake, but he doesn't know much about California, really.]
Guess you wouldn't know what that's like, [he teases Tony re: having to work for a living. Not that he has any room to talk, considering that he's scarfing down a half a cow a day on Tony's dime.]
Try as Miss Potts might, [ tony readily jokes with him. then he waves a hand. ] So yeah. There's your warning, [ because lina likes coming here after a date, and tony likes bringing her. ]
Right, no caroling that night. I'll make a note of it.
[Really, it just means that he'll stash some food and water in his room and prepare to spend the night chilling with his tablet, or maybe napping. No real hardship.]
[ tony shoots him a smirk, already cutting more pieces of pork, before he refocuses on operation: calorie loading after practically starving himself for the past twenty-four hours. (one day, he thinks, maybe simba won't need to hide. that'd be the ideal solution, instead of having to ship him off to some godforsaken island.) he mostly stuffs his face from thereon, but converses between bites.
when christmas plans come up again, tony winces. he doesn't really do the whole present exchange thing, he explains; pepper does all that for him. probably a party he'll attend somewhere, but he could... he could make time for simba, if he wants. if he doesn't expect much festive fanfare. thanksgiving was fun, after all. (it's not weird to spend part of christmas with someone he met less than a month ago, right?)
tony cleans his plate during any following, simpler topics. afterward, full, he wipes his mouth and hands on a napkin and balls it up. ] Thanks for the chow, [ he says and moves to stand, taking his wine glass with. ]
["I don't need anything," he insists, because he's acutely aware that Tony already gave him everything he has, and is going to continue doing so for the foreseeable future, and even if money is no object for Tony, it still makes him feel guilty and awkward. He doesn't contribute anything - all he does is eat and nap. But having another dinner with Tony would be nice, and maybe they can watch a Christmas movie together or something.]
No problem. [He gathers up their plates and takes them to the sink to rinse off before putting them in the dishwasher. He's still not entirely sure how the dishwasher actually works, but JARVIS controls that part, just like the rest of the house. It's pretty much foolproof, thank god.]
Hey, do you have any...[He glances down at his paws.] Big snippy...things? Not really big, but I need to trim my claws, I think. [And then he pauses - no pun intended - for a moment.] Actually, uh, if you don't mind, I think it would be easier if you trimmed them. If you have the time, that is.
[ tony is halfway out of the kitchen when simba speaks up (after having doubled back to take the wine bottle, too, saying, "actually, since you won't appreciate this..."). he swings back in, the tilt of his head curious, then looks down at simba's paws along with him. nail clippers probably aren't gonna cut it–literally–but one of his cable cutters might. tony's about to say so when simba continues and asks him to do it.
tony slowly shuts his mouth. he could just supersize some clippers for simba to use like he has so much else, but simba asked him to do it. and tony did promise he'd take care of him, didn't he?
he's staring at simba's hands still. tony tears his eyes away. clears his throat. shrugs. ] Less of a time investment than replacing any furniture you'd inadvertently shred otherwise, so ... yeah. I got an idea. [ he stands awkwardly still, then jump-starts himself with a smile. ] To the shop! [ without waiting he rounds the corner to the basement staircase. ]
["I wasn't gonna use the couch as a scratching post," he mutters under his breath with a slight roll of his eyes. He knows Tony doesn't really mean that, though, so he doesn't take offense. Instead, he follows Tony downstairs, waiting for him to unlock the door to the shop.]
They got worn down naturally before, but now I'm not doing the same sort of thing, so... [He spreads his hands and shrugs.] It's just my hands, don't worry, I'm not asking you to trim my toenails.
[ tony only gives one of his noncommittal, distracted "uh-huh"s as he inputs his code and pops open the door. the workshop is already alive and lit from when he returned, DUM-E and U sweeping or pickings things off the floor and the screens at the main workstation displaying readouts on the armor. the wine bottle tony leaves on a cluttered table as he passes by and his glass on top of the metal cabinet he stops in front of, the drawers of which he rummages through, muttering to himself, "now where did i put you..." ]
[He sidetracks briefly to give DUM-E a fond pat (he likes to be nice to the bots, okay?), then takes a seat as he waits for Tony to find whatever tools he's looking for. Curling the fingers of his right hand slightly, he unsheathes the wicked curves of his claws. It's strange to have to actually trim them - or have them trimmed - because he's used to them wearing down naturally. But he doesn't want to go around ruining the furniture (or his tablet), either.]
[ tony finds the cutters in the second drawer he checks and knocks both closed with his hip. ] Got ya, [ he says to the red-handled five-inch cutters. walking to the couch, he holds them up and squeezes the handle twice. ] Time to get snipped. It's for your own good. [ he plops down beside simba, on the edge. ]
[He gives Tony a deeply unimpressed look. While he's been around Tony long enough to become familiar with his sense of humor, that's still a little close to the line. He flexes those claws again so that Tony gets a good look at them before he places his hand on Tony's thigh - and if those claws happen to be not too far from Tony's groin, he's sure it's just a coincidence.]
[ tony stifles a smirk, unbothered by the paw placement. he just grabs it and scoots it to a better spot, measuring the cutters against the claws. (he can barely fit his entire hand around two of simba's fingers, jesus. the paw is so big on his thigh. the gion's size really is something else.) ] How far down you want them cut? [ tony asks with a quick glance up as he fits the blades around one claw. ]
[He wonders if Tony got the point, so to speak, or misconstrued the whole thing for a clumsy seduction attempt. He doesn't think the latter would happen - there is nothing sexy about claws near your dick - but it's possible. Shoving the thought aside, he looks down at his claws.]
Mm. Somewhere between a quarter-inch and a half-inch. [He might not have any experience with trimming claws, but he's snagged them enough to know that they'll bleed if cut too far down. Even with his healing, it's not a fun time.]
Got it. [ tony adjusts the cutters and squeezes. after a quick crunch, the severed claw tip flies off onto the rug somewhere. ] How's that? Clean cut? You good for the rest? [ it's not bad, actually. getting to do this. sure, he can pay for all of simba's luxuries in life, but this feels more personal. as personal as simba tipping his delirious head up to drink, at least. ]
Perfect, [he assures Tony with a soft smile. He's been around Tony enough to know that the man likes having his ego stroked, or even just simple words of praise.] Go right ahead.
[He spreads his fingers a little to give Tony more room to work in between each one, though he'll also move them if necessary.]
[ tony ducks his eyes as a tiny smile twitches on his mouth. snip, goes the next claw, then onto the rest of the hand. ] I think this is where we're meant to talk about some hot gossip.
Them? I talk about DUM-E to his arm-face all the time. He earns it. [ tony says louder as he swivels his head to where DUM-E sweeps, ] Don't you, DUM-E? [ "wee-oooo..." laments DUM-E. ] That's right.
[ right paw is done. tony eyes simba's left. the cutters cut sideways, meant for wires, and he's right-handed. so the easiest angle would be... hm. he clicks his tongue in thought. ]
[ tony flicks his eyes up to simba with an indiscernible expression and stares him down like it's a stand-off. then, demeanor rapidly lifting, he chirps, ] Nope, [ and hops up. ] Scoot back. Don't be weird.
[ and tony fits himself right between simba's legs, facing away, before the gion even finishes his sentence. he lugs simba's left paw onto his thigh, same way as the first but now with simba's arm loosely around his waist, and hunches forward, intently focused on trimming the claws. the only contact besides their hands is at tony's hips and thighs, his legs spread, barely brushing simba's.
tony doesn't really understand why he did this, just that the initial idea teased at him, and that simba asking if there were a problem goaded him into enacting it. (tony's always gone for what he wants, so why shouldn't he now?) there was no problem, he thought defiantly, because it wouldn't mean anything. at least not to him. it would just be the easiest angle. that was all.
snip goes the first cut, tony strangely quiet. subtly, though, after the second cut, he relaxes, his legs resting against the gion's and his breathing again coming easier and deeper. ]
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[He can't even be bothered to be surprised by this fact. Tony's proven time and time again that he thinks nothing of taking a quick jaunt halfway across the world just for fun - which, to be fair, is more or less the entire reason why he's here right now.
But still, his dim memories of the holidays involve snipping decorations from scrap paper, the bright burst of juice from an orange. Definitely nothing as fancy as a trip to Europe.]
Sounds nice, [he adds, and he means it. He genuinely wants Tony to get out and enjoy himself.]
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Guess you wouldn't know what that's like, [he teases Tony re: having to work for a living. Not that he has any room to talk, considering that he's scarfing down a half a cow a day on Tony's dime.]
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[Really, it just means that he'll stash some food and water in his room and prepare to spend the night chilling with his tablet, or maybe napping. No real hardship.]
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when christmas plans come up again, tony winces. he doesn't really do the whole present exchange thing, he explains; pepper does all that for him. probably a party he'll attend somewhere, but he could... he could make time for simba, if he wants. if he doesn't expect much festive fanfare. thanksgiving was fun, after all. (it's not weird to spend part of christmas with someone he met less than a month ago, right?)
tony cleans his plate during any following, simpler topics. afterward, full, he wipes his mouth and hands on a napkin and balls it up. ] Thanks for the chow, [ he says and moves to stand, taking his wine glass with. ]
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No problem. [He gathers up their plates and takes them to the sink to rinse off before putting them in the dishwasher. He's still not entirely sure how the dishwasher actually works, but JARVIS controls that part, just like the rest of the house. It's pretty much foolproof, thank god.]
Hey, do you have any...[He glances down at his paws.] Big snippy...things? Not really big, but I need to trim my claws, I think. [And then he pauses - no pun intended - for a moment.] Actually, uh, if you don't mind, I think it would be easier if you trimmed them. If you have the time, that is.
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tony slowly shuts his mouth. he could just supersize some clippers for simba to use like he has so much else, but simba asked him to do it. and tony did promise he'd take care of him, didn't he?
he's staring at simba's hands still. tony tears his eyes away. clears his throat. shrugs. ] Less of a time investment than replacing any furniture you'd inadvertently shred otherwise, so ... yeah. I got an idea. [ he stands awkwardly still, then jump-starts himself with a smile. ] To the shop! [ without waiting he rounds the corner to the basement staircase. ]
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They got worn down naturally before, but now I'm not doing the same sort of thing, so... [He spreads his hands and shrugs.] It's just my hands, don't worry, I'm not asking you to trim my toenails.
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Hilarious, [he replies in a flat tone.]
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Mm. Somewhere between a quarter-inch and a half-inch. [He might not have any experience with trimming claws, but he's snagged them enough to know that they'll bleed if cut too far down. Even with his healing, it's not a fun time.]
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[He spreads his fingers a little to give Tony more room to work in between each one, though he'll also move them if necessary.]
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All of our mutual acquaintances are in this room, and I think it would be rude to gossip about them when they're right here.
[And they're robots.]
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[ right paw is done. tony eyes simba's left. the cutters cut sideways, meant for wires, and he's right-handed. so the easiest angle would be... hm. he clicks his tongue in thought. ]
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[But he knows Tony loves his bots - even DUM-E, in his own way.]
Problem?
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Pretty sure everything about me is weird, but okay.
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tony doesn't really understand why he did this, just that the initial idea teased at him, and that simba asking if there were a problem goaded him into enacting it. (tony's always gone for what he wants, so why shouldn't he now?) there was no problem, he thought defiantly, because it wouldn't mean anything. at least not to him. it would just be the easiest angle. that was all.
snip goes the first cut, tony strangely quiet. subtly, though, after the second cut, he relaxes, his legs resting against the gion's and his breathing again coming easier and deeper. ]
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