Chapter Text
"Sir, another call on line eight," JARVIS announced.
Tony didn't bother to look up from his soldering. "Patch 'em through. On loudspeaker."
A soft beep told Tony that JARVIS had done as asked and he straightened slightly in his chair.
"Welcome to Stark Industries tech support, my name is Anthony," Tony said, the speech well-rehearsed after accepting calls for over three weeks. "How may I help you?"
The idea of personally answering some of the tech support calls was, if he dared say so himself, a stroke of genius. Even with randomly selected callers he had gained more feedback in the past three weeks than he'd usually get in three months from his R&D department. Unsurprisingly, the people who actually used his products were more keen to point out their flaws than those relying on him for their paychecks. The average person also had a tendency to find the bugs the programmers couldn't.
"Yeah, hi," said a slightly gruff but undeniably lovely voice on the other end. "I'm having problems with my phone."
"Well, calling seems to be working just fine," Tony replied automatically.
There was an awkward silence and Tony mourned the wasted joke. The guy clearly had no sense of humor.
"What's the problem with your phone, sir?" Tony asked politely.
"I can't connect to the internet," the man replied, grumpily enough that Tony wondered if the phone had also personally offended him somehow.
Tony decided to put the soldering iron away for everyone's safety. He had a feeling this would be one of those calls — the ones that made him wonder why on Earth the person had even bothered to buy his phone in the first place. Not that he begrudged anyone the privilege of owning one of his amazing phones — he tried to make them as user friendly as possible, even for beginners — but he had learned that it was quite exhausting to try and personally teach people how to use them.
It wasn't that the callers were stupid, just that the gap in knowledge was difficult to bridge. Things Tony thought were obvious and self-explanatory could be completely new to the eighty-year-old who had gotten a Stark Phone from her grandchild. In all honesty, Tony had started wondering if he was the problem, for not being able to put himself in their shoes and make his phones useable by everyone.
'Simple' had never been one of his mottos, but maybe he should give it a try.
Tony tilted his head to the side. "You mean WiFi?"
"Yeah, that."
"Do you have a hotspot nearby?" Tony asked. "And you've connected to it?"
"It says I have, but nothing's happenin'." The man's voice sounded fairly young, but his current problem made Tony suspect he might be an older gentleman. A hint of a Brooklyn accent could be heard when he spoke, but it was subtle — as if the man was trying to suppress it.
"Is it a public WiFi or does it have a password?"
There was a brief silence on the other end, presumably because the man was checking what type of WiFi he was trying to connect to. "There's no lock next to it, so it's public, right?"
Tony rubbed a hand over his mouth, but something about the hesitant tone made him smile rather than roll his eyes. "Usually, yes, but you might still have to open your browser and type in a password they give you — sometimes they just want to confirm that you're not a robot."
Another silence, this one longer and more awkward. When the next question eventually came, it was clear that the man assumed he would sound stupid for not knowing the answer. "What's a browser?"
A part of Tony wanted to bemoan the uneducated masses but, at the same time, he could understand the confusion. If the man was new to how modern technology worked, he might never have had the term explained to him — most people simply assumed everyone already knew the word and tossed it around in conversation without thinking twice.
Another one of Tony's callers — an older lady from the week before — had seemed to think that all browsers were simply called 'the Internet.' He'd had to ask her to describe what the little icon looked like to figure out which one she was using, since she hadn't registered the name.
"A program or app you use for surfing the web," Tony replied patiently. He got up from his chair and straightened his spine, holding back a satisfied groan when he felt it pop.
"Okay," the man replied. "Hang on." There were muffled noises on the other end — of the kind that signaled the person holding the phone had taken it away from their ear.
Tony wondered if the man had ever heard of speaker phone — or a headset, for that matter.
Probably not.
Tony walked a slow lap around his workbench while he waited, stretching his legs. DUM-E let out an inquisitive chirp when Tony passed and he absently patted the bot's arm.
There was more rustling of clothing and a strange click, like metal against glass, before the man returned. "Yeah, there was some kinda login site." The man sounded less gruff now, his accent a little more pronounced. "Seems to be workin'. Thanks."
"My pleasure, sir," Tony replied, making sure that his smile was evident in his voice. He didn't have the heart to tell the man that he didn't need to call tech support for something this simple — he could just as easily have talked to the staff at the store or library whose WiFi he was trying to connect to. They could no doubt have given him the instructions.
Tony came to a stop at his workstation, leaning his hip against the table. "Anything else I can help you with?"
"Not at the moment, no," the man replied. While he might have sounded grumpy at the beginning, he was actually more polite than some of the callers Tony had talked to. "Thanks again."
"Any time. Don't hesitate to give us another call if you need it."
"I will, thanks."
It was hard not to smile. "Have a good day, sir."
"You too, Anthony." And with that, the man hung up.
Tony kept smiling. The call reminded him of what Steve had been like when he was just beginning to figure out how modern technology worked. Of course, being the perfect specimen of human ingenuity that he was, it hadn't taken long for Steve to learn almost everything, but those first couple of months had been quite fun.
Perhaps it was nostalgia that made Tony clear his throat and say, "JARVIS, if that number calls tech support again, patch him straight to me, okay?"
"Of course, Sir," JARVIS replied.
Tony wondered if that was a good idea — morally and legally — but since he hadn't seen the man's phone number and wasn't trying to find out any of his personal information, he'd say he was in the clear.
He just happened to think that the man was kind of cute and had really liked the sound of his voice. That probably wasn't in Tony's favor — it actually made him sound more than a little creepy — but it wasn't like he was going to do anything untoward during a tech support call.
Tony only wanted to make sure that the man got the help he needed, that was all.
Tony lay sprawled in his bed, trying to gather enough energy to get up and start his day. Ever since Pepper left five months ago, Tony found that mornings were significantly duller now that he couldn't wake up next to her.
Nowadays, he liked to wallow for a while and berate himself for his stupid life choices. He knew perfectly well that his actions were what had caused Pepper to leave. She hadn't told him that — not in those exact words, at least — but he knew. Tony suspected that she might still love him, just like he still loved her, but that she had decided to be the adult in the relationship. She'd made it official, once and for all, that they wouldn't work — at least not as a romantic couple.
In many ways, Tony admired her bravery, even if the separation left him terribly maudlin at times. It was for the best — he could see that, too, since they wanted different things in life — but it still hurt.
It hurt a lot.
JARVIS's crisp voice cut through Tony's brooding. "Sir, there is a call waiting on line eight."
Tony frowned at the ceiling, even if he knew perfectly well that wasn't where JARVIS resided.
"Line eight?" he asked. "We stopped with the tech support calls a month ago."
He'd had a six-week run in total, but after that he grew increasingly bored with the simple, everyday calls and decided to allow the actual tech support staff to do their job. The experiment had been a huge success — Tony now had a lot of material he was already working on integrating into the next Stark Phone model — but he knew he had ordered JARVIS to stop forwarding random calls.
"You requested that calls from this number should be forwarded straight to you, if it ever contacted technical support again," JARVIS replied.
Tony blinked, then quickly sat up on his bed, sheets pooling around his waist. He should probably feel bad about his eagerness, but could he really be blamed for wanting something to break the depressing monotony of his morning?
"Go ahead and let him through."
There was the familiar soft beep before Tony launched into the greeting still fresh in his memory, simply for how many times he'd had to say it.
"Welcome to Stark Industries tech support, my name is Anthony. How may I help you?"
To Tony's disappointment, he was met with silence the first couple of seconds. Then, ever so hesitantly, he heard a dubious, "Uh. Hi."
"Hello," Tony replied.
"Is this the same Anthony as last time?"
Tony had to admit — he hadn't expected the man to remember him. It was a nice surprise, though.
"It might be. You do sound familiar." Tony felt a tiny stab of guilt for lying, but it wasn't like he was hurting the man, right? He quickly changed the subject. "So, what can I do for you today?"
"I downloaded a picture but now I can't seem to find it," the man replied. "I've done it over and over but it just doesn't show up in my gallery."
Tony pursed his lips, scooting back until he could settle comfortably against the headboard of his bed. "You're sure you've downloaded it properly?"
"Yes." The man sounded annoyed — perhaps even a little insulted. "I get the notification that the download is complete, but it's not in any of my albums."
"Have you scrolled through the entire folder?" Tony asked. "As a standard, photos and images are sorted after the date they were created or posted. When you download images with imbedded dates they might end up not at the top as you'd expect, but further down in your gallery."
"Hang on," the man muttered.
Tony leaned his head back while he waited, absently listening to the sounds filtering in from the other end. He could hear that strange clicking again, but he couldn't seem to place it this time either.
There was no mistaking the tired sigh the man let out, however, or the defeat in his voice when he replied. "I found it."
"Then shouldn't you sound happier?" Tony asked, feeling a surprising surge of compassion.
"I feel like an idiot," the man grumbled. "Every time I think I've understood somethin' about all this new technology, 'm proven wrong."
"No, no, don't be like that," Tony protested. "It's not easy and I think you're doing really well. Also, if you got it on the first try, the people at tech support would be out of a job."
The man let out an amused snort. "Yeah, I guess that's true." There was a brief silence. "Hey, can I ask another question?"
"Shoot." Tony wasn't sure if he should be enjoying a tech support call this much.
"What's the easiest way to print from a phone?"
Tony shifted slightly in his bed. "Well, that depends. Are you hooked up to a network, and does that network have a printer connected to it? Or do you have a bluetooth printer?"
Several seconds passed without a reply.
"I'll take that as a no," Tony decided.
The question was actually quite tricky. Tony could come up with several ways to print from a phone, but he couldn't say which of those would be the easiest — especially to someone who was less knowledgeable than him. Easy wasn't the same as fast or efficient, which was what Tony usually went for. In all likelihood, the man wanted a solution that was easy to set up and replicate.
"Can't I just... email the pictures to myself and print from a computer?" the man asked. The hesitation in his voice was quite heartbreaking — as if he expected Tony to laugh at him.
"You know what? Yes, go with that," Tony replied. It certainly wasn't the most efficient way, but the man should get credit for finding a solution all on his own. "Just keep in mind that when you attach images to an email from your phone, they're automatically made smaller, so if you want big pictures, you should probably hook up the phone directly to the computer instead."
"That's okay. I know how to do that." There was a hint of pride in the man's voice and Tony had to grab the nearest pillow and hide a smile against it.
How could one man be so adorable? And why did Tony, of all people, find him adorable? He had never considered technological incompetence cute before.
Perhaps it was the fact that the man put so much effort into understanding how his phone worked. Instead of giving up, he called tech support and kept trying until he got it right, no matter if the problem was one most people found laughably easy. Tony could respect the man's determination and will to learn.
Sometimes, that was more valuable than having all the answers.
Tony placed the pillow in his lap, barely managing to keep a straight face — he didn't want the man to think he was laughing at him. "You could try the Cloud too," he suggested. "If you know what that is?"
"Yeah, I googled it."
Trying not to smile while talking to this man was clearly a losing battle.
"That's good. You get a free one-hundred gigabyte Stark Cloud with your phone, and it's really the easiest way to keep all your files available on all your devices."
"I can't say I understood all of that, but... I don't know. Is it safe?" The man sounded just as suspicious as some of the other older callers Tony had talked to. They seemed to think that anyone could access their Cloud, or that the files would disappear simply because they weren't physically stored on their devices.
"Well," Tony replied, "I wouldn't keep state secrets or illegal material there, but holiday photos? Sure."
The man chuckled. "I think I'll stick to emails for now."
"Fair enough, but don't hesitate to ask if you want to know more, okay?"
So what if Tony wanted to talk to this man again? He was polite and entertaining — not to mention quite sweet.
"I will. Thanks again, Anthony."
While Tony didn't usually like it when people used his full name, it somehow sounded good when this man said it. Tony could even feel a tentative little flutter in his chest.
That was probably a warning sign of some kind, but Tony stubbornly ignored it.
"Feel free to call if you ever need help again," he said instead.
"Yeah, thanks." The man had to be smiling — it sounded like he was smiling. "Take care."
"You too."
The man hung up and Tony let his head thump back against the wall. This was stupid. He gathered up the pillow and hugged it to his chest. He couldn't get attached to someone he had only spoken to twice — they hadn't even talked about anything significant. Tony knew nothing about the man — not even his name — and it was pathetic just how much Tony had enjoyed talking to him.
It had been a tech support query, for heaven's sake — not a social call.
Tony sighed and stared up at the ceiling. "JARVIS, do you think I'm lonely?"
It wasn't that he didn't have friends. He still saw Rhodey and the other Avengers on a regular basis, but their conversations were often related to work nowadays — about pinpointing and clearing out the last HYDRA hideouts after the D.C. debacle. And when they weren't doing that, Clint disappeared off the face of the Earth, Nat went off to try and find herself, and Steve got caught up in locating that missing best friend of his. Bruce was usually at the tower, granted, but he liked his private time and could isolate himself for days in a row when needed.
Even Rhodey wasn't around as often as Tony would like, what with the missions he needed to go on for the Air Force.
Was it so strange that Tony appreciated some human interaction that didn't involve Avengers business?
"Do you want statistics, Sir?" JARVIS replied.
Tony rolled his eyes. "Never mind." He tossed the pillow aside and climbed out of bed. "Just make sure my coffee is ready once I'm done showering."
"Of course, Sir."
"Welcome to Stark Industries tech support, my name is Anthony. How may I help you?"
Tony knew he should have sent the call through to the actual tech support, but he'd just come home from a board meeting and seeing Pepper always threw him a little off-kilter. It wasn't that he was angry at her — he'd even gotten better at not missing her these past couple of weeks — but it still took a lot of energy to pretend nothing was wrong.
He needed something to cheer him up and his favorite tech support caller would surely do the trick.
Just like last time, there was a silence on the other end. Unlike last time, the eventual response was much more confident — maybe even a little flirty.
"We've gotta stop meetin' like this."
Tony burst out laughing.
He had his actual phone this time and was just stepping out of the elevator and into his living room in the Avengers Tower. The sun was setting, glinting off the glass coffee table and bottles stacked above his bar.
"It's the same Anthony, isn't it?"
"Yeah, it is," Tony confirmed, still snickering. The last call had been about a month ago by Tony's count and he could tell that something had changed. The man sounded different — more relaxed and happy. It was a good change.
Tony tugged his tie loose and tossed it over the back of the couch.
"Okay, I gotta say, that's highly suspicious." The man sounded amused, though, rather than upset. "I've called three times and you answer all three times? You tryna tell me that's a coincidence?"
There was that twist of guilt again. Tony turned on the loudspeaker and placed his phone on the coffee table, then shrugged out of his suit jacket. He couldn't keep lying, could he? He turned his head, looking out over the New York skyline — as if that would somehow buy him more time.
"Well, I have to be honest with you..." he began carefully, throwing his jacket on top of the already discarded tie.
The silence was a whole lot less comfortable this time.
"What?" The man immediately flipped from careless to wary. Tony didn't blame him.
He took a seat on the couch and closed his eyes, deciding it was better to get this over with. "I asked the computer to forward your calls to me after the first time we talked."
"Are you spying on me?" The low, dangerous growl was actually quite frightening — and Tony battled supervillains for a living.
"No! Of course not," Tony quickly replied. "That would be all kinds of illegal. I don't even know your phone number. I just asked the computer that if you called, it should be forwarded to me." He ran a hand through his hair. "I'm sorry."
"Why?"
Tony frowned. "Why? I'm sorry because I lied about—"
"No," the man interrupted, "why did you ask the computer to do that? Why would you want to talk to me?"
That was somehow a more terrifying question than the previous ones, but the answer was just as obvious.
"Because I like talking to you."
Another silence.
"Oh."
Tony braced his elbows against his knees and hid his face in his hands. This was going so well. He did feel better, though, now that there were no secrets between them. Well, okay — the man still didn't know that he was the infamous Tony Stark rather than Anthony the Tech Guy, but that was surely for the best.
"James."
Tony looked up at his phone in surprise. This wasn't a video call, though, so he didn't really gain much from it. "What?" he asked.
"My name is James," the man said, sounding a little shy — as if he didn't usually allow people the privilege of knowing his name. "And I like talkin' to you too."
Those words caused a swoop of delight in Tony's stomach. "I'm glad to hear that, James."
Something teasing snuck into James's voice. "Out of all the people I've talked to at Stark Industries, you're definitely my favorite."
Tony snorted. "You just said I'm the only person you've talked to at Stark Industries. But thank you," he replied drily. "Did you call just to be snarky or did you have an actual support issue you need help with?"
"Yes. Right." James cleared his throat, handling the sudden switch in subject with admirable grace. "There's something wrong with my phone camera. It won't switch to landscape view when I tilt it anymore."
"That's our fault, actually," Tony replied. He'd been briefed about that exact thing on the meeting with R&D last week. "Someone missed a couple of ones and zeroes while programming the newest update and it caused several glitches. We apologize for the inconvenience and will be sending out a correction within three days that should fix the problem."
"Oh. Okay. That was... easier than I thought."
Tony laughed. "You're not the only one who messes up, sweetheart."
The second after the words left his mouth, Tony wished he could take them back. He hid his face in his hands, praying James would just pretend he hadn't heard.
"Did you just call me sweetheart?"
No such luck, apparently.
Tony cringed. "Yeah, sorry. It just slipped out. It won't happen again."
"I didn't say I disliked it."
Embarrassingly enough, Tony felt his heart skip a beat. What was he? Some teenager with a crush?
"Are you flirting with me?" he challenged, not to be outdone.
Tony could practically hear the grin in James's voice. "If it means I get to call you sweetheart back, then you bet I am, doll."
That shouldn't make Tony blush — he was a grown man, for heaven's sake, with a playboy's reputation — but for some reason it did. Everything James said sounded so sincere. Who even called someone 'doll' in this century? It was outdated and weird and absolutely wonderful. Tony loved it.
"Well, okay then," Tony replied, not able to hold back a giddy smile of his own. "Carry on."
He could admit that he still felt a stab of guilt at the thought of flirting with someone other than Pepper, but he pushed it aside. They had split almost seven months ago and weren't going to get back together — Pepper had told him so in exquisitely painful detail.
Surely Tony could engage in some harmless flirting with a charming man?
Not that he knew anything about said man. He still couldn't tell how old James was and Tony wasn't sure if he wanted to guess. James occasionally talked like he was older than Tony, but his voice sounded younger. It was quite confusing.
"Is this where I give you my number?" Tony blurted out. He closed his eyes, trying to fight down the sudden burst of nerves. "My private one, I mean. That way you won't have to call tech support every time you want to talk. I'm also a big fan of text messages."
"I guess that would require me givin' you my number as well?" James sounded amused, his voice a smooth drawl that might or might not have sent a shiver down Tony's spine.
"Well, yes. But I promise not to do anything weird with it."
Tony's heart was racing.
James chuckled and that, too, was far more tempting than should be allowed. "Okay, sure. I'd love to get your phone number, sweetheart."
Tony grinned.
They started out light with only the occasional, tentative text but, in a matter of two weeks, Tony and James had graduated to long, heartfelt phone conversations that lasted well into the morning hours. James seemed to be just as much of an insomniac as Tony, and the man rarely let a text remain unanswered for long.
Tony learned a lot about James during those calls and he treasured every single detail he was allowed to glimpse. Overall, James was a very private person, but he apparently felt safe enough to explain that he was a former soldier and struggled daily with nightmares and PTSD. James hadn't used that word specifically, but Tony knew the signs after he had been diagnosed with it himself.
While James never said so outright, Tony suspected that James had been taken prisoner at some point in his military career. There were times during their midnight conversations when James would sound cornered and haunted in a way Tony remembered all too well from his own time just after Afghanistan.
Unfortunately, Tony couldn't tell his own story — not in full, at least — without risking James figuring out who he was. He offered what comfort he could, though, and suggested things that might ease the pain. But what helped more than anything, Tony suspected, was having someone to talk to.
Despite being a wonderful guy with a frankly perfect sense of humor, James was obviously lonely. Perhaps some of that was due to his paranoia — he never told Tony exactly where he lived in the US, and was careful about divulging any kind of personal information — but even with that taken into account, Tony just couldn't understand how someone so wonderful could be so alone. James was an absolutely amazing man who made Tony smile and laugh and even blush on a daily basis, though Tony often refused to admit that last part.
But, despite being able to spread so much joy, James was suffering. The first time he started crying during one of their conversations, Tony had almost called for the suit and ordered JARVIS to triangulate James's position. The only thing that stopped him was the fact that it would be a breach of trust and Tony knew that was a big deal for James. The last thing Tony wanted was to make James feel unsafe.
Instead, Tony had done his damndest to help James through it with soothing words and calm reassurances. It had been difficult — especially since Tony had been forced to listen to James's choked sobs the entire time, which just about broke him — but James had eventually stopped crying.
Miraculously, James had seemed to be feeling much better afterwards and Tony had wondered just how long James had waited before finally allowing himself to break down. Too long, from what Tony could tell. After that first time, James was thankfully more willing to discuss how he was feeling and why, though he still kept the details of his military career awfully vague.
Guilt and fear seemed to be the two things that held James back the most. He never explained what he had done that he felt so bad about or who he was running from, but Tony could relate all the same. He understood the crushing weight of knowing you had innocent people's blood on your hands, and the terrifying certainty of knowing that any moment could be your last, if you were careless enough to let your guard down.
More than anything, Tony wanted to give James a hug and tell him everything would be okay. When he couldn't — since he wasn't brave enough to suggest a physical meeting — he did the next best thing.
He sent texts throughout his day — be they silly and fairly insubstantial — hoping to keep James occupied and in a good mood. Tony took pictures of anything and everything he thought James might like and, when that wasn't enough, sent him a barrage of cat videos. JARVIS had gathered a virtual library for Tony to use with this single purpose in mind.
One night, when James was too keyed up to sleep or talk, Tony settled down on his couch and read out loud to him — the first The Hunger Games book, of all things. James had apparently been meaning to read it but never had the time. He'd liked it so much — both the book and Tony's reading of it — that it became a thing during those evenings when they ran out of their own words and needed someone else's to fill the silence.
As the weeks passed, Tony grew more and more fond of the sometimes subdued yet wonderful enigma that was James. It reached the point where a simple text from the man could send Tony's heart racing, and whenever James called him doll or sweetheart, Tony felt his chest clench from feelings he wasn't quite ready to acknowledge yet.
The flirting continued, too — it grew more and more heavy, in fact. James was a smooth talker and when he decided to pull out all the stops and be as charming as humanly possible, Tony could admit that he had a hard time resisting the man.
Not that he tried particularly hard.
There were times when they seemed to be just on the verge of tipping over into something more, but Tony always chickened out before he found the courage to suggest phone sex.
By then, a lot of the things James did made Tony's pulse quicken.
The way he laughed and talked — that smooth drawl with just enough teasing to it to send a tickle of excitement down Tony's spine. The smile in his voice when he called Tony by one of his nicknames, and the way he never said goodbye or goodnight, instead finishing each conversation by saying that he already looked forward to the next one.
James made Tony feel appreciated in a way he hadn't since he was with Pepper, and maybe that was why it was so difficult to keep things platonic. Everything James did made Tony want to kiss him. And, judging by the flirting, James was on the exact same page.
Tony knew nothing could happen between them before he told James who he was, though. It would feel like a lie otherwise. But, considering the reaction Tony usually got when people recognized him, he was understandably hesitant to tell James the truth.
He was afraid that he would scare James away.
Not everyone was supportive of Tony Stark and Iron Man and, considering James's paranoia, he probably didn't want to be with someone so famous. James knew Tony had money — he hadn't been able to hide that when he told James stories about his life — but being rich was one thing and being Tony Stark was another one entirely. If they were lucky, they might be able to keep a relationship hidden, but Tony wouldn't bet on it.
The paparazzi were vicious — especially when it came to Tony's love life — and James deserved better than that.
So Tony kept postponing the conversation, hoping it would all just go away. He knew it wouldn't, of course, but he could always hope.