#tonypromptlove

[tonystarktogo]

For this weeks entry into the prompt game on @tonystarkstoga I’ll give you a snippet of a No Powers AU with painfully shy Tony. Enjoy!

“You-You have no right to fall in love with me!” Tony splutters, a comically panicked expression on his face, as he stumbles backwards, hands raised in front of his body like a poor imitation of a shield.

He’s looking at Natasha as though she might eat him alive any second now, and yes, Bucky has to admit he didn’t see this coming. He’s held this seminar on appropriate work conduct far more often than he would have liked--because his friends are selfish jackasses, thank you for asking--and this isn’t a reaction he’s seen often when they get to the role-playing-appropriate-versus-inappropriate-reactions-to-romantic-advances-in-the-workplace. 

Technically Tony--as in Tony Stark, as in billionaire Tony Stark, as in rumoured playboy billionaire Tony Stark--was supposed to hit on Tasha--Bucky still has a bone to pick with her--but he didn’t even manage a ‘Hi sweetheart’ without a lot of stuttering, mumbling and bright red cheeks, so Natasha improvised. As in the full-on seduction mode, love confession inclusive, that even Bucky isn’t fully immune to, and they’ve known each other for 12 years.

So, yeah, Bucky is starting to see why she broke down in a laughing fit when he’d asked if she wasn’t worried about working as Stark’s PA, what with his reputation. He’s also starting to understand why there’s a rumoured instead of a confirmed before the playboy.

What he doesn’t understand is why the poor guy is even here. (To learn how to talk to people, he learns later, and wishes someone would have thought to tell him that--he wouldn’t have put Tony on the spot like that if he’d known.)

“Alright,” he finally remembers he’s supposed to be leading this course, and also Tony is starting to eye the closest door with something suspiciously close to desperate determination, so it’s probably time to cut in. “That was a great way to show basically everything you’re not supposed to do, Natasha, thank you.” He stresses her name when he notices the way Tony hunches into himself and sends the man an encouraging smile.

He tries very hard not to be charmed when Tony promptly trips over his feet, though the hesitant, embarrassed smile the man shoots him when he’s finally sitting down and nervously playing with his fingers really should be considered illegal.

Bucky very sternly reminds himself that he is lecturing a group on proper work conduct, and cuddling one of the participants just might send the wrong impression--no matter how adorable said participant is. (Also Natasha is looking far too smug for his comfort.)

[tonystarkstoga]

"You have no right to fall in love with me."

Prompt-fill for the sweet @tonystarktogo ‘s and my ongoing Tony Stark related prompt-challenge thingy.

“How drunk were you last night?”

“I’m still wearing my pants, so… not that drunk.” Tony had to look down, past his new MIT hoodie, at his legs to confirm his assumption, because it wasn’t always the case that Rhodey found him dressed when Tony had slept on the floor - or other, less comfortable places. His friend gave him enough time to get to his feet before he continued speaking, arms crossed in front of his chest:

“These aren’t your pants, Tony.” Cue a moment’s hesitation, just long enough to make a decision.

“They are now.” It was so hard to find a good pair of pants. The right fit, just tight enough for the right kind of pressure, withought being restricting. Soft enough to not be scratchy, but not so worn he’d get odd looks wearing them. Not that his parents didn’t give him remarks anyway, they -

“Tony, are you listening?”

Tony stuffed his hands into his pockets to stop his fidgeting and looked up at Rhodey, forcing himself to focus on the spot between his friend’s eyebrows.

“You can’t just keep these, they’re not yours.”

“Sure I can. I’ll pay for them.”

“That’s not how it works, you can’t just… what if people were taking your things?”

“That’s different.” He didn’t like that look Rhodey had on his face. It meant disapproval - most looks that weren’t smiles meant disapproval, Tony head learned. “They’re mine,” he added, both to invalidate Rhodey’s argument and regarding the jeans he was wearing.

The other man sighed, rubbing a hand over his face.

“Fine. I’ll find whoever you stole these from and-” “I didn’t steal them, I bought them.”

“You have not bought them, Tony.”

“I will have bought them. Once I remember who I will have had to have paid for them.” And that answered the question about how drunk he had been the night before. He gave a full-body shrug. The fact that Tony couldn’t remember the answer to that should have been answer enough, anyway. Luckily, he was both young and practiced enough to come away from a night like that without too much of a hangover. Nothing a few mugs of coffee couldn’t fix.

It took Rhodey less than three hours to figure out who Tony had hooked up with - and whose jeans Tony was wearing. As it turned out, said person didn’t mind his “old pants” had gone missing. He was notorious for sleeping around and occasionally leaving his hookups souvenirs. Just like Tony, he could afford to buy himself new clothes instead of washing is existing once - not that Tony did that, he preferred to wear his things until they fell apart, and then some - and thus didn’t really mind leaving sweaters, jeans, shirts and even underwear behind. If anything, he was embarrassed to have worn jeans that old in the first place, but Tony had caught him on a lazy day.

Rhodey called him ‘the guy from the appartment opposite of Rosa’s’, because that’s how he’d tracked him down. Rosa, a mutual friend of his and Tony’s, had seen the guy stumble home early this morning in his shirt and briefs, obviously still pretty drunk. Since they all three didn’t know his name, and nobody had bothered to find it out, Tony called him ‘Gene’, because he had his jeans and he didn’t like French. Which in the end didn’t keep him from yelling,

“Hey, Jean Val-Jeans,” down the hallway once he had spotted Gene. Judging by what Tony could see poking out of his paper shopping bag, the guy had gone out to shop for hangover cures.

“Whaddaya want, kiddo?” Gene slurred, obviously not in the mood for any kind of conversation. “I told your boyfriend you can keep the pants.” That much Tony knew already. Not that he cared much. What bothered him was that he was determined to pay for them, and Gene had sent Rhodey back home with the money. Tony didn’t just steal pants.

“Not-my-boyfriend forgot to give you this,” Tony said, now caught up with Gene and holding out an envelop with some cash that should cover at least two new pairs of jeans. To his relief, Gene took it, apparently unwilling to prolong their talk by discussing the necessity of beign paid for an old pair of jeans. There was something else on his face, something Tony couldn’t really pin down.

“Look, kiddo,” Gene said and took a step back. Too close, Tony thought, he had been standing too close again and hadn’t noticed. Gods damn it. “What we did was a one time thing. You have no right to fall in love with me.”

All his words were gone while Tony tried to comprehend those words. It was Gene’s impatient sigh that called his attention back to the conversation. He had probably zoned out for a while.

“What does that even mean?” Tony asked, frowning. “It’s not like I’d need your permission, I mean, it’s not about rights anyway, that’s just-” he would probably have gone on, but was interrupted by a door closing in his face. “That’s rude,” he commented. Frowning at the door for a little while, Tony finally decided to go home. Halfway down the corridor though, he turned on his heels and marched back to the door. “I don’t love you, I just like your jeans,” he yelled at the door, scowled, and left.