Morning Gorgeous
Pepper Stark is gorgeous.
And, all his.
This is, of course, not a recent revelation; that particular realization had sunk rather comfortably into the, admittedly battered, recesses of his brain when he bought the engagement ring. But, this little bit of heaven he's found for himself, this little retreat from the politics of his profession, is especially enjoyable in the morning.
There is a time, long before Pepper waltzed in and picked up the broken pieces of Tony's life, when he might have grumbled about the morning, poured himself more than a finger of whiskey, and drank it on his way back to unconsciousness. But, now, he finds himself endeared to mornings, because it means waking up next to her. Despite her previous, false claims of looking terrible in the morning, Tony found himself disagreeing.
"You're my husband - it's in the marriage contract, you have to say that." she'd teased him one morning when his fingers sank into tangled red curls and she grumbled about not having the chance to brush her teeth, yet.
But, still, despite the ongoing disagreement, he found himself with a certain affection for her morning look; all soft and sleepy and relaxed. It is when her morning attire is one of his dress shirts, wrinkled against the clean milky paleness of her skin. It is when her mouth opens only to sigh and press kisses into her husband's collarbone before compressing her face into his pectoral once more, warm body curling into his, fingers knotting into his t-shirt.
When he feels her open mouth dragging along the cotton that hides his collarbone from her sleepy gaze, he offers her a content sigh of his own and traces lazy shapes on her back, beneath the hem of his dress shirt. She's pressed firmly against him, leg across his knees, torso pressed to his ribcage and he adores it. Pepper is the only woman he has shared a bed with and not kept some distance from - he tends to hate being away from Pepper, anyway, and having her in his bed had not been the exception. He likes the comfort of holding her and feeling the intimate way she molds herself to him and fastens her arms around him.
"Pepper," his voice is melodic, but still raspy with sleep; she doesn't know if she'll ever get used to or grow tired of the way he sings her awake, while his fingers sink deep into her hair and tug lightly, enough to tingle down her spine. "Pepper, it's time to wake up, sweetheart."
"No," she mumbles, mouthing at his neck, despite appearing to still be asleep.
He does hate to wake her, but if he didn't, they would both be late for work and Nick Fury would be after him because of it. When it comes to Nick Fury, Tony tends to err on the side of caution but still warned the man to leave Pepper alone.
"I'm sorry, sweetheart, but we have to get up or we'll be late," Tony whispers, scratching gently at her scalp. He sounds perfectly rational and reasonable, for once, and despite knowing she should rejoice at this, she just wants him to stay in bed. "Baby, if we get up, now, I can still make breakfast before we leave."
"Don't want you to leave," Pepper grumbles, shifting so she's pressing more of her weight into him, careful of his chest. Needn't put pressure on that, lest something go wrong. "Please, stay."
"Baby, we have to," he murmurs mournfully; already wondering if he could get away with calling in just this once, but he knows Pepper would regret not working. "If we get up now, we can have breakfast together, and tonight, I can pull together dinner and we'll grab some wine and call it an early night. How does that sound?"
Despite how much he loves these few minutes of clingy, slightly whiny Pepper when she's first waking up, he knows that he has to get out of bed, if he has any chance of getting her fed before work. "C'mon sweetheart, let's get going and have breakfast before work calls."
"Okay," Pepper reluctantly, and tiredly agrees, sliding out of bed, and disappearing into the bathroom to brush her teeth and hair.
The smell of frying bacon and eggs draws her downstairs in search of her husband, and sustenance, still sleepy-eyed and barely able to process what she finds in the kitchen. He's singing, apparently to the food in the skillet, as he carefully extracts a perfectly sunny side up egg and slides it onto a place beside some crispy bacon and toast.
"Mornin' Tony," she breathes, leaning against the doorway, content to watch him.
Now comes her favorite part of the morning. When her adorable husband looks up at her with his soft eyes and tender smile, the one she only ever sees, the one that reveals the loving husband beneath the superhero facade, and he brightens her day.
"Mornin' Gorgeous."
