Chapter Text
Tony had almost managed to lean far enough over to kiss his boyfriend for wanting to have an unconscious billionaire wrapped in gold-titanium alloy and an aura of sweat in his bed when Martin’s blush flared and he began to babble.
“Um. Two cents. American money, JARVIS. Tell her cents not tup... what I said. Or is it too late?”
“I’m sorry Captain, I have already conveyed your message. If it is any comfort, I do not believe your mother has associated your request with any non-standard usages of the word ‘tuppence.’ She says she will be here shortly.”
“Non-standard usages?” Tony wondered.
“According to...” JARVIS began, and Martin reached for the helmet as if he could muffle it by putting a hand over its mouth.
“No, no. Just no. And don’t google it, Tony. Please? At least not in front of anyone.”
Tony pretended indignation. “As if I would ever let anyone see me google,” he said, with an exaggerated expression. “Pff. JARVIS has a much better search engine.” Of course, the overly raised eyebrows wanted to waggle, so he let them and Martin relaxed and smiled.
“JARVIS is pretty amazing,” he agreed, because JARVIS was amazing, and Martin deserved a kiss for noticing. Which Tony was glad to provide.
“Um... er... Skipper?” The curtain around the bed wafted in and out as Arthur hunted for the opening and peeked through. “Skip?”
Tony disengaged without haste. Arthur had seen them kissing lots of times. And moving too fast wasn’t going to be a good idea.
“What is it, Arthur?” Martin said patiently.
The younger man held up a coin. “Your mum said you needed money? Maybe? She’s coming, only she sent me first because you shouldn’t need money, not with the National Health and all, and she was positive you didn’t mean the other thing, so maybe you meant you wanted this?” Arthur held up a bedpan.
“No, no, I’m fine, everything’s fine,” Martin said hastily, and his blush was still high on his cheeks. “I was going to give the money to Tony.”
“For a joke,” Tony interjected. He was way too tired to try to explain it. Not to Arthur. He pushed himself back upright and then had to close his eyes and wait for the world to stop doing a rumba. Which wasn’t fair, because Tony’d been awake lots longer than this before lots of times without wanting to toss his cookies. “And as much as I appreciate the offer,” he went on, glad that the suit was keeping him on his feet, and hoping Martin didn’t notice how much the suit was keeping him on his feet, “I really ought to grab a shower first.” He got his eyes open. Nope. Martin was looking at him with that worried crease between his eyebrows, and so was Arthur. Who had his own worried crease. Which was wrong. Just wrong.
“A shower and food. And sleep,” Martin said with just a corner of his mouth turned up, and because he was a good boyfriend, instead of being like everyone else who thought Tony didn’t get enough food and sleep, he added, “And coffee when you wake up and come back to visit me.” His smile turned wistful. “You will come back and visit me?”
“Wild horses couldn’t keep me away,” Tony promised. Then he sang it, because the Stones were always worth singing. “Wiiiild horses...” Martin laughed, and then coughed, and this time Tony managed to knock the straw, the cup and the pitcher to the floor, because turning fast wasn’t a good idea. “Rats.”
Arthur brightened. “I’ll fetch a mop!” he offered, and vanished.
“Oh, god,” Martin gasped between coughs. “Maybe you should have someone drive you to your hotel.”
“JARVIS can fly me over,” Tony said, reaching for the helmet and starting to unhook the power cord thing he’d rigged. “That’s probably easier. ‘Cause crawling into a car while I’m in the suit is...” he shook his head. “Nope. Not a good plan.” The gauntlets were down at the foot of the bed, just far enough away that Tony had to lean to reach them, and if he’d needed more proof that it was time to get horizontal he’d have asked for it, because Martin already looked worried enough for both of them. “Naw, I’ll be all right with JARVIS,” he said, as he pulled on the gauntlets, trying for a nonchalance he didn’t feel. He grinned at Martin and got a small smile in return.
“I guess that’s all right then. I just wish I could go with you.” Martin sighed. “If I only hadn’t been stupid enough to get hurt.” He ran fidgety fingers over the IV, being careful not to dislodge it. “It’ll be forever before I can have a shower.”
“I’ll think of you the whole time I’m having mine,” Tony promised.
“You’ll never get clean that way,” Martin joked apologetically, and Tony wanted to kiss him again, only just at that moment the sound of voices and feet warned him that they were about to have company.
“Martin?” Wendy Crieff pulled back the curtain, “Mr. Stark, have you finished yet? The nurses tell me that they need to take Martin down to Radiology for a test.” She had one of the nurses at her elbow, who nodded confirmation, although she was watching Tony with huge eyes.
“I was just getting ready to go,” Tony said, waving the helmet a little as proof, and giving the nurse a smile so she would stop looking like she expected to get eaten. “And I told you, you can call me Tony.”
Wendy fluttered away the permission with a nervous gesture that reminded him of Martin. “And you’ve asked all the questions and things? There won’t be anyone else coming around to bother Martin while he’s still so sick?”
“Just us medical mice,” the nurse muttered, and Tony’s smile for her got a lot more authentic. She was checking the monitors and making notes into a handheld terminal, and doing other nurse stuff, and Tony hoped she had some pain meds in her pocket, because the only thing keeping Martin from being a good match for his sheets was his freckles and the patchy remains of his sunburn.
“Mum,” Martin protested. “If the investigators have more questions, I need to help.”
Tony gave way as Wendy came around to his side of the bed, because he knew about getting between the mama bear and the cub and he was going to need his nads when Martin was feeling better. Wendy immediately began rearranging Martin’s pillow with a proprietorial air. “You need to rest,” she said firmly. “Which you can’t, if you’re being badgered.” She shot a glare at Tony and tugged a kleenex out of her pocket to dab at the tearstains on Martin’s cheeks.
“It wasn’t badgering,” Martin said, although he didn’t protest being mom-handled. “I need to know what happened as much as anyone does.”
“And do you know now?” she asked, smoothing his hair back from his forehead. Tony could see how careful she was not to come close to Martin’s sore ear, and how readily Martin accepted the comfort of her touch. He nodded, and cleared his throat, trying to hold back a cough and not entirely succeeding.
But “Tony?” he said, when he could talk again, and Tony wasn’t relieved, not really, because it wasn’t cool to be jealous of a guy for having a mom to take care of him when he was hurt. Especially not when the guy still wanted his boyfriend to be there.
“Yeah?” Tony said. He had the gauntlets on now, but he could reach over and take Martin’s hand if he was careful not to slip in the spilled water.
“You’ll be okay, right?”
“I’ll be fantastic.” He hadn’t figured out how to pick up the suitcase without tossing his cookies, but he was an engineer, it’d come to him. “You’re going to be good for the docs, right?”
“I don’t think I have much choice.” Martin eyed the nurse, who was busily disconnecting various things. “Am I being moved again?”
“You’re scheduled for Radiology, Mr. Crieff,” she reminded him, and yeah, good, she was adding something to the IV that was making Martin’s eyes unfocus.
“Now?” he managed, though, through the fuzz of the meds. “‘Sawfully early.”
The nurse nodded, professionally pleased by the way her patient was slumping deeper into his pillows. “Some of the tests will have less ambiguous results if you have them done before breakfast.”
Tony’s stomach growled loud enough to be heard from the armor, and Martin giggled. “I think that’s my cue.” Tony said, grinning at the cute. He nodded to the nurse. “You’ll bring him back here when you’re done?”
“Yes.” Not even the name of Stark was going to get Martin a private room; there were too many burn patients who needed to be put where they faced less risk of infection. But this place by the window in the alcove at the end of the orthopedics ward was quiet enough that Martin could probably rest once the doctors gave him a chance. The nurse disengaged the bed brake and began to tug it out of position.
“See ya later, Spitfire,” Tony let go of Martin’s hand reluctantly, wishing he had a chance to steal a goodbye kiss.
“Don’t forget!” Martin ordered, craning his neck so he could look at Tony as long as he possible. “Coffee!” Another nurse, or at least a guy in scrubs, had turned up to help push the bed, and it was moving away entirely too quickly.
“I never forget the coffee!” Tony called after him, not too loudly, because he didn’t want to attract the attention of the other people on the ward. He could see a few of them now that the curtain was out of the way, sleeping or fussing at the monitors that hung beside each bed. There was the kid from the London office, doing his best to look like he was the world’s skinniest security goon. There was an elderly lady with a cart at the far end, distributing breakfasts on trays. And there was Arthur, in scrubs pants now under the plaid shirt, but still clearly not a member of the staff, trying to persuade a guy in coveralls to part with his mop.
And Wendy, still at Tony’s elbow.
“I think I should take this opportunity to have Geedi run me over to Martin’s place so I can fetch his things,” she said, in the tone of voice of someone who really didn’t want to take their own suggestion. “We can drop Arthur off at his home along the way.”
“Do you have the key?”
“No, but I have the address.” She looked at Tony curiously. “Do you have the key?”
He shook his head. “No.” But if Martin had never let his mother see the attic where he lived it wasn’t really all that surprising that he’d been so flustered and ashamed when Tony had arrived on his doorstep. “What kind of things does he need?”
She produced a pamphlet, already crumpled by nervous hands. “Toothbrush, comb, washcloth, some loose fitting clothing, shaving things, towels,” she read off, and Tony was surprised, because didn’t the hospital provide most of those things? He took the pamphlet and skimmed down the list.
‘You can just buy most of this stuff,” he said. He looked up, thinking to snag the kid from London to do the buying, but he was trotting along in the wake of Martin’s bed and almost out of sight. Because Martin needed someone with him, and the kid (Geedi Ishaar Dinaase but Somali born so use the first name, got it Pepper) had the right attitude, even if it would take six months in the gym before his neck was thick enough to meet Happy Hogan’s minimum standards for muscle. Not that muscle was what Martin needed, not exactly. Just someone fierce enough to run interference if the press turned up. Someone with Martin’s best interests at heart. Someone like his mom.
Yeah.
“You should swap with Geedi. You’ll be better company for Martin, and you can get hospital security to fend off nosy reporters for a couple of hours. That’ll give Geedi a chance to take Arthur home and he can stop off at the airfield and get Martin’s flight bag for his shaving kit and spare clothes on the way. Then he can buy the rest of the stuff on the way back.”
Wendy peered up at him. “Pardon?”
Tony thought about it and realized that he’d only said about half of the last sentence of what was in his head aloud, so he repeated it, slowly and audibly.
He could see the way her spine unbent a little with relief, even while she was shaking her head. “I don’t want to put you to any unnecessary expense,” she began, and Tony sighed.
“Martin really takes after you, doesn’t he?” He went to run his fingers through his hair and nope, nope, not with the gauntlet, because individual hairs got caught and pulled out and boy that was enough to wake him up a little. “Look,” he took the offending gauntlet and waved it at the rest of the ward, “There’ve got to be a lot of people in here who don’t have the stuff they need because their suitcases are either at Fitton or burned up. So Geedi’s going to get a bunch of stuff to pass out, and Martin’ll just be one of the people he passes stuff to. Fair enough?”
“I’ll pay you back for Martin’s share,” she said firmly. “It’s the least I can do.” And boy, Tony did not have the energy for this.
“Sure. Fine. Go, or you won’t be able to catch up. And don’t forget to take Arthur!” he added as she bustled away.
And then Tony was alone, standing in a puddle of water, with a suitcase he didn’t want to bend over and pick up because he wasn’t sure he wouldn’t fall over when he tried and a bunch of strangers around the room in various states of trying not to stare who’d be trying not to laugh when he landed on his nose. Fuck it. JARVIS could do it. Tony put on the helmet, and made a couple of reassuring noises at Steve so he’d shut up, because no, he didn’t need Thor to come fetch him, he was going already, and they’d better have bacon waiting for him. And coffee. Then he set the comm to privacy mode. “Catch J,” he said, letting his eyes close as he turned over control to the AI.
“I have you, sir.” The suit straightened, and adjusted itself around him, bringing his head up in spite of the way he was already three-fourths asleep.
“Grab my stuff and get us out of here. It’s been a long, long day.”