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There was a reason they were here. For the life of him, though, in that moment, he couldn't piece together the exact reason, why.
The thing was, Tony hated these sorts of gatherings. The wealthy and elite talking about their wealth and status and slipping crude remarks about the underprivileged in-between bites of tartar and black truffles. These had never been his people, for all that he used to waste hours at these events. Probably why he used to always end these evenings boozed up and draped with some nameless pretty in his bed.
Used to.
Well, he wasn't refusing the wine but, these days, he knew who he was going home with and he also knew he'd cut off his arm before screwing things up with her again.
“Tony?”
“Hm?”
A nudge against his bicep caught his attention more rapidly than the gentle, persistent, repetition of his name with increasing concern.
Not that Pepper wasn't used to his wandering attention. Okay – not while wearing that dress, at any rate. Her smile had dripped away sometime after his eyes had flicked left looking, initially, for the sommelier to top off their wine. That had been several extended seconds ago. Minutes, possibly. Probably. Not that he was counting... this time. He didn't really count time; not really his thing. Math had its place but not for measuring the days. Hell, he wore watches because they looked good, not because he was in the habit of actually squinting at his wrist. If he needed to know how late he was for something either Friday or Pepper would be more than willing to let him know.
“Somethings... not... I just...” Back again; away from the woman he loved to stare at; a woman he... thought...? Tickling between his ears, arcing neurons sparked up the millions of memories, some drenched with gin, others with sweat. Some charred around the edges, always some misfires, some smoking still. God, where had he seen her..?
Smile, fear, pain, shame, panic-
“Shit...”
Now he faced Pepper. Faced her and even curled a little the other way – the last thing he needed to hear was-
“Anthony Stark, my God! It's been, what, thirty years?”
“Twenty-nine,” muttered into his glass, hastily sipped, before turning – dazzling – to stand and greet the woman who'd occupied so much of his previous staring.
“Melinda-”
“Madison,”
“Addie – right, Addie Kenwood.”
“Kendall. Well, it's Holton now – married sixteen years!” Her fingers twiddled the emerald cut yellow diamond to show off all eighteen carats. “We celebrated our anniversary just last week!”
Tony grinned, molars tight together. “That a fact? And where is that blushing bridegroom?” Eyes made a show of casting around for the absent fellow. Never quite far enough to lose sight of the woman before him. He could hear Pepper stand up behind him and he felt no shame in the flood of relief that poured down the back of his spine in a chilly shiver.
The hair flip, white blonde, seared familiarity beneath his chest – made his scar throb. Madison chuckled behind lips layered in dark red.
“Douglas is home with bronchitis, poor dear. I decided to give him some peace and have a night out with a few of my girlfriends.” Her attention flicked towards the woman at Tony's shoulder – eyes squinting a fraction – narrow cobalt laser focus.
Tony considered another sip of wine for the dry catch in his throat – not that the tannins would likely help much – holding his hand, instead, in a gesture that brought Pepper more closely to his side.
“Virginia Potts – CEO of Stark Industries.” Always better at the shake and bake than he'd ever pretended to be, Pepper smiled and complimented and allowed Tony to take the smallest backward step. Everything in order and conversation going as well as it could – Tony's hand gliding back for his glass and that much needed alcohol – missing the reach around his fingertips blunted against the smooth glass and tipped the tapered crystal off of its base. The long arc to the floor was a dazzling sparkle of reflected sheen and rich red – shattering diamonds on impact in a pool of Chambertin Grand Cru – seven grand a bottle – still not the most expensive thing Tony had inadvertently destroyed. Certainly not within the past year. Paltry – really – all things considered.
“Gracious, Tony, I never took you for butterfingered, before.” Another chuckle – deeper and more pinging at those tangled deep memories. Tony shuddered – though his kneel to the floor, good intent, was waylayed by the long absent sommelier.
“I've got that, Sir. Please, allow me.” Despite the scattered shards and spreading wet, the woman hunched with her empty tray and began gathering the pieces. Undeterred by her deterring, Tony dropped one knee at the edge of the spill, gathering curved shards in one hand.
“You kidding? I realize the suit it misleading but I happen to enjoy a little risk with my dinner.” The sommelier, Patricia, smiled through a blush. So he could still charm, at least; in spite of his replies floating up from a place disconnected from his current thoughts.
It was only seconds before another of the waitstaff took the broken pieces from his hands and made many assurances while nudging him away from the crime scene. Good enough restaurant that only a handful of the bolder patrons had fished out cell phones to capture enough action to make TMZ happy. He'd have Friday record it for him to not watch later. Standing was not quite the smooth ascent he'd gone for in spite of the small quantity of wine ingested.
“You okay?” Whispered low so that it was only shared between himself and Pepper, he smiled practiced assurance while rubbing a trembling thumb across the back of her knuckles. Later; a promise in the gesture that he'd stopped welshing on after that painful stint apart.
Madison practically cackled. “God, Tony; and here I thought you'd outgrown that youthful awkward phase!” She patted Pepper's arm as she sidled closer. Tony kept his footing though he clamped a tight palm on Pepper's other side.
“Well, what can I say?” His mouth hung open while his brain scrambled for a punch line, of sorts. Instead, it settled on distraction. “More wine?” The proximity of the sommelier meant a fresh glass had already been placed close at hand. Pepper declined a refill whereas Addie was vocal on getting topped off.
Wincing a smile, Tony fell back on the same coping methods that had gotten him through all of those tedious shareholder meetings back when the company had been pumping out WMDs like candy.
Uncorking seemed the theme of the evening because Addie went stranger to confidant in thirty seconds flat; resting her hand on Pepper's arm as she rewound personal history.
“I remember the first time I saw Tony. Tiny thing; skinny. His own clothes looked like they were eating him alive. Thought he had to be the kid of one of the professors dropping by for a visit. Well, right up until the next time I bumped into him. We actually were study partners for our Principles of Manufacturing course.”
“Is that so?” Keeping it professionally polite but distant; Tony could appreciate her read on the conversation even as he checked out for a few moments; studying the paper thin glass cut he'd only just noticed on the tip of one finger. Only a few dots of blood but, of course, the second he noticed it the damn thing stung like fuck.
“What were your course studies in college...?”
“Financial Assistant. Well, not really what I'd wanted to do but my attempts at a professorship kept falling through. Apparently I wasn't old, male, or white enough to make the cut.” Winking at Tony, she drained her glass and immediately gestured for another.
Tony tipped his head; incapable of a comment to that.
While he was pushing a fresh influx of unwanted images out of his head, Madison sidled up to Pepper. She leaned in; confidant; in that open secret way that he was meant to overhear. “You, know, forgive me if this is a little bold but you are a damn lucky lady. I just have to tell you that. I don't know how much Tony has talked about his... exploits? Well, not that most of it isn't available online – I mean, really – who keeps track of things like that? Pretty sure Wikipedia has a whole page just on the women he's bedded.”
Pepper, God bless her, held a hand up to forestall further sharing – not that Addie was one to pick up on the most blatant of hints. Not with the amount of booze competing with blood volume.
“Anyway, the point being, you get to benefit from a wealth of experience! I can only imagine what he's like, now! The thing is, back when I knew him, he would turn beet red if you so much as wore a low cut sweater! He had to have been the most adorable thing I'd ever seen! Did he ever talk about his first time?” She gestured a finger towards her generously exposed chest. Sliding backwards to reassert a personal bubble around herself and Tony, Pepper's polite smile melted into something stiff and dangerous. Tony closed his eyes and counted back from 15; swallowing until his gut settled to a tight rumble. He knew, well enough, the calculations and deductions spinning through Pepper's skull and was willing to do almost anything to head them off.
“So! Ads! Tell Pepper about the... ah... the ah... thing... with the- with the... wasn't there something with a... car?” Okay so he hadn't been overly involved with the student body the first year at MIT. Clam bakes and kegers hadn't really become a thing, for him, until alcohol became a silent partner.
Thankfully, in spite of the complete absence of a starting point, Addie launched into a detailed and extended story that involved stealing a professor's car and leaving it in the middle of a local high school's football field. This, of course, opened Pandora's Box to an endless stream of pranks and pratfalls – many of which she only knew about second hand.
Tony met Pepper's eyes while the other woman just. Kept. Talking. She grimaced and tipped back the last of her wine. They were both gonna be sharing a toilet later that night and, Jesus, that sounded way more disgusting than he'd intended. Resigned to the inebriated stroll down the crumbling path of memory, Tony let himself drop back in his chair. His glass was full, his seat was adequate, and if he tilted his head, just so, he could tune out most of the conversation.
At least until Addie dropped down beside him with a grin. Pepper, on his other side, brushed her fingers across his knuckles. He smiled at her – knowing she saw the strain.
“You want to get out of here?” Tony didn't hesitate – raising their joined hands to kiss the top of her wrist. “Yeah – I'm beat.” He half turned towards the woman sitting slightly too close – enough that when she leaned over for a sudden hug, her breasts pressed against his bicep.
“Oh, Tony; let's not wait so long to see one another, again! I bet Pepper would love to hear more stories about MIT! Though,” she winked, “maybe we'll keep a few stories between just us, huh?” Before Tony could eel away she pressed in and kissed his cheek – her tongue prodding between her lips before lifting to whisper against his ear. “Too bad we're both taken. One more time could have been fun. Maybe, now, you'd even stay hard all the way to the end.” One of her hands slid between his thighs.
He pulled back; unaware that the hand still holding Pepper had squeezed down with crushing force. “I – I – I gotta go.” Rising fast, he knocked the table with his thighs – rocking the glasses but, thankfully, not shattering any more crystal. His breath was galloping in his chest and he could feel the, now, familiar panic starting to thump in his temples.
“Tony – Tony wait! Slow down!” He'd released Pepper seconds ago – finally aware of how tightly he'd been gripping her fingers. Though, now he was getting far ahead as he bullied through the compacted forms in finery – apologizing even as he shoved through.
“Sorry – so sorry – that's a great dress...”
Happy was ready with the car when they finally made it outside and he could have kissed the man full on the mouth. He resisted, though, as he essentially dove into the back seat.
“Everything okay, Mr. Stark?”
“Yup! It's fine. Everything's fine. We're all good.”
Happy never truly looked convinced – long experience had made him a wise man. “You sure?”
Pepper, arriving a few moments later, took over feather de-ruffling duties. “We're okay, Happy. Thank you. Could you take us back to the hotel?”
The hesitation was enough to make a point without outright balking. The door shut and the outside sounds vanished in the pressing silence of the car.
His entire body trembling, now, Tony dropped his face in his hands – gripping his hair in a bid to keep himself together while he rocked a few times before forcing himself to still.
“Hey... what do you need?” Accustomed to his anxiety, Pepper sat next to him without touching. He freed one hand from his sweaty hair to fumble at the mini bar – Pepper taking over when he couldn't manage to control his grasp and lifting out an icy bottle of water. Tony spilled at least a quarter of it on his shirt but managed to gulp the rest with the urgency of a dying man.
“God... ugh... is it too hot in here?” He leaned forward to prod the air conditioning up a few notches before pulling off his coat and opening the first two buttons of his collar. Leaning back against the seat, he closed his eyes; turning his face towards the touch of Pepper's fingers against his temple.
She just watched him; the soft skin around her eyes pinched to a crease; but her mouth was curved in a way that offered only comfort. She stroked the fine hairs on his temple – the motion enough to bleed away the throb of anxiety that had been humming through his nerves. Through the small window that separated them from the driver's compartment, he could see the reflection of Happy's eyes in the rearview mirror. Happy never spoke, however, and Tony soon settled with the stillness of the drive.
At the hotel, they crossed the lobby without being accosted by paparazzi or fans. Known for its celebrity clientele; there were certain standards employed by the management that tended to discourage such vulgarities; their words. There was a reason Tony was a frequent patron. His tips more than made up for a past history of demolishing rooms. Well, okay, there had been that explosion last year but that totally wasn't his fault! Mostly. Look, he had enemies and sometimes they showed up with laser guided missiles...
He didn't bother trying to talk Happy down from a room by room scan – going so far as to poke his head in the closets and bathroom. Finally, assured that assassins weren't lying in wait, Happy said his good nights and went on to his own rooms.
Pepper wrapped her arms around him as soon as they were alone – his face pressing into her hair. “You okay?”
Tony nodded; running his hand up and down her back. “Just dandy. Couldn't be better, really.”
She nodded back, not raising her head. “If you don't want to talk about it, that's fine...”
“Nothing to talk about.” He countered; now stepping out of her hold to cross to the television. Snatching up the remote from the couch, he flipped through channels until he arrived on the news.
“...lead story tonight comes to us from Redmond, Washington where there is an active hostage situation...”
Pepper settled beside him; allowing him the fantasy where he was truly fascinated by the DOW and sports highlights and roller blading squirrels. Seconds into the next program he bumped the power button and tossed the remote on the small table to his left.
“Tony.”
“Pajamas.” He stood; heading for their bedroom. He stopped after three steps, hands drumming at his thighs. “If we... I need to be comfortable. If we're going to do this.” He wanted to say more than that but two tries opening his mouth brought nothing but air. Giving up, he shook his head and continued on.
Ten minutes later they were both changed; soft cotton instead of silk. Pepper was microwaving milk for cocoa while Tony kept his hands busy with peanut buttered toast. Soon they had their evening snack ready and he followed Pepper back to the couch; settling with a blanket draped across both of their laps.
Pepper blew at the steam curling from her mug before sipping; still pulling a wince at the burn. Tony took a bite of toast and accepted that he would never be a gourmet chef but at least the bread wasn't completely burnt.
Setting her mug on the table on her side, Pepper raised one leg on the cushion; turning to watch his profile. “You were fifteen... when you entered MIT.” She licked her lips; long fingers pulling crumbs from her toast. “How old were you... when...”
“Fifteen.” He watched his own fingers as they dismantled his toast – peanut butter sticking in his cuticles. “I'd only been there a week when she first approached me. Turned out my mom knew her step-mother. She was funny. Made it easier, you know, being there. I mean, this was before I met Rhodey so I didn't... it wasn't like I had anybody...” He shrugged; not sure why he felt defensive about it.
“Hey,” Pepper's hand brushed across his knuckles and he sighed; leaning back and abandoning his toast on the coffee table. “You didn't do anything wrong... okay?”
He sucked on his bottom lip and hated that his eyelashes were wet. “Well, now that would be a first.” He managed with a wobble.
She didn't placate him, though, just kept rubbing his knuckles in a soft circle. He was just so tired.
“You know, it sounds like every guy's fantasy. Hot chick begs a night of tutoring, nerdy virgin agrees, sexy times ensue and everyone leaves happy.” Her other hand rose to brush a thumb across his cheek. He leaned into it, for a moment, shutting his eyes and letting the heaviness of exhaustion wash over him.
“Did anyone else know? Did you tell anyone? One of your instructors? Your parents?”
“My parents? God no.” Tony sat away from her hands and Pepper let him go. He rubbed at his mustache and blinked down at his lap. “Ob... Obie knew. Found out. He was the only one who would stop in on weekends.” Unsaid that it typically involved restocking the illicit liquor box in a hidden compartment of Tony's luggage. Insisted booze opened more doors than brains. Gave Tony his first drink when he was 12. He still remembered that warm hand on his shoulder. “Just a sip; careful, it burns a little...” He picked at his fingernail. “He told me he was proud of me. That...” he huffed, something between a laugh and a cry, “that I was a man, now.”
He could swear he could feel the heat of anger on Pepper's side of the couch but didn't raise his eyes to look. Not sure who, exactly, she might be angry at and while his brain seemed to know better his heart still flinched... still pointed out all of his failings and asked who the hell he thought he was – bringing her into the crumbling hell of his mess. But, God, he was also too selfish and desperate to push her away. He'd already lived that, once, and it had resulted in Ultron, Sokovia, death, and death, and death... Jesus...
“She laughed when I told her I didn't want it.” His nail continued to pick, pick, pick... feeling the sting when he mutilated his manicure. “I was just inexperienced. I didn't know what I wanted. I was a guy so of course I wanted it. All I needed was a touch – see? My body knows what I want so I should just listen. Guys are just walking hormones. All guys want it...” He breathed. When he slammed his fist back, smacking into one of the tasseled throw pillows, his sudden violence even surprised him. A second later he wrenched it from his side and threw it – nearly toppling one of five rose filled vases scattered around the suite. Both hands clenched in his hair, after that. He didn't want to talk anymore. He didn't want to tell her about how it felt good; better than his own hand had ever felt. Better than getting drunk or getting high. He didn't want to talk about how he'd felt desire and shame and confusion – convinced he must want it after all, why else was his body doing that? He didn't want to tell her about not fighting when she'd sat in his lap and moved that way and giggled and kissed his lips for the first time. His first kiss... taken between gasps and tasted like french fries and Tab. Afterward... after... she'd held out a box of tissues. “Take it.” When he'd only stared, not sure what had just happened she pushed it towards him. “God, don't be a baby; just take it. Wipe your face. Some guys cry their first time; it's not that weird. Anyway, it gets way better after some practice. I mean, you didn't even come and that's the whole point. We can try again sometime...”
Pepper doesn't press him for more. And he doesn't pull away when, after another second, she places her hands on his shoulders and pulls him against her side. He sank, down to her lap, when her fingers started to brush though his hair. It isn't until her fingertips brush across his cheek, again, that he realizes his face is wet. He turns against her leg and breathes it out.
They must have slept there because there was sunlight coming through the large bay window when he rolled to his back – stiff and regretting life because not even a three-thousand dollar couch has decent springs. He's alone and missing the heat of Pepper's body. She'd always been an early riser, however, and he can hardly begrudge her need to get ready for the day. His craving for a shower had reached obsession.
The acrid smell of strong coffee and the sweet smell of corner market donuts are enough to roll his head; taking in the white, grease spotted bag on the table.
“Happy, you're getting a raise.” He actually manages to sit up and claw numb fingers around the rolled paper. Two crullers and a Bismark rest amidst the wax paper used to grab them. He nabs the one closest to the top and is three bites in when Pepper reappears; hair twisted up in a French knot and already dressed. Tony holds up the bag. “Donut?”
Pepper shook her head. “I already ate. Those are yours.”
Tony grinned, already digging out the second pastry. “Thank God; I was probably going to have to arm wrestle you and I'm pretty sure I'd lose right now.” He actually groaned around the second cruller but didn't begrudge Pepper when she sat down beside him pulled his hand over to nibble a bite from the edge. He leaned in to kiss her, mid-chew, before she stood once more.
“We should probably leave soon. We need to be back to New York before three-thirty.”
Tony nodded; digging for the last donut and accepting the coffee Pepper held out for him. “I'll be ready in ten.”
Happy had dealt with their luggage; likely while Tony was still dreaming about Siberia and waking up grateful it hadn't been something even more personal.
He was ready in twenty but he'd never claimed excellent time management skills. Happy made up for it on the way to the airport.
They were at cruising altitude before he felt his shoulders finally start to loosen. Pepper sat across from him, holding both of his hands. Tony tilted his head back at her; his smile less forced than when they'd been on the ground.
“Are you okay?”
He rolled his lower lip between his teeth; actually considering the question rather than stalling. “A little? Better, maybe?”
She nodded. “If I see that bitch, again, I'm going to knock her teeth in.”
Tony choked a laugh. “I'll make sure Friday records it.”
Moving to sit at his side, Pepper placed an arm around his shoulder and leaning in for a pressed kiss against his cheek. “I love you. There isn't anything that will change that.” She rested her forehead against his temple. “Anytime you want to talk I'll be here for you.”
Tony rotated the topaz ring on her right hand. “I didn't really tell you anything you hadn't already figured out.”
Pepper crossed her ankles and leaned her head on his shoulder. “And if that's what you want to talk about that's okay. I would never pressure you to tell me anything you didn't feel comfortable sharing.”
“I want to...” He shuddered out and tipped his cheek against her head. “I didn't, last night. I didn't want to, even this morning but now I...” He clacked his teeth. Pepper didn't say anything back – just curled her fingers into his.
Tony blinked; watching the reflection of clouds against the black view screen sitting across from the small row of windows.
“She, uh... she told me... after that... it was normal to cry...”
Pepper's hand squeezed around his. Her breathing had caught, more than once, during his nearly whispered story and he's enormously grateful that Happy is lying down in the sleeping quarters at the back of the plane. She didn't say a word, however; just one small sound when he talked about the pain and how he'd been told that, too, was normal.
He got through it. He was shaky and his eyes feel like they'd been peeled and exposed to jet fuel but he reached the end and even mentioned the two hours after she'd left that he'd spent on and off puking in the small dorm toilet.
They sat quietly after that.
He'd be content not saying anything for the rest of the trip. Pepper doesn't move but he can feel the shift that will lead to speech. He tenses and he doesn't even know why.
“It wasn't your fault.”
She'd told him that last night, too. He only hummed in reply but she didn't allow for the deflection and sat up; turning so she could place her hands on either side of his face. Her eyes are so blue. But, this close, he can see a dark grey rim around the pupil.
“Tony, please listen to me. This. Wasn't. Your. Fault.”
He has nothing to give back to her for that declaration. He's fifteen and awkward and just has sex for the first time and all he can think about is how pissed off his father would be that he's screwing around and he couldn't even do it right because she'd had to do everything like he hadn't even been certain where all of their parts were supposed to go and this was supposed to be him proving himself. His mom had been so proud... He hadn't even wanted to; he thought she'd needed mentoring but he'd said something wrong; done something wrong and she'd thought...
He felt himself approaching the edges of her truth before pulling away again. It's hard... so much harder to see himself as an innocent player. Fifteen... Fifteen is old enough to understand the world. To be a man; isn't that what his father had told him? Wasn't that what Obie had told him, after finding out? Said with an air of congratulations as though he'd solved world hunger.
The kid was fifteen.
And suddenly, like that, he feels anger.
Because if someone had done something like that to the kid, he'd tear out their lungs. Because he isn't an adult for all that he wants to be treated like one and isn't that the reality about that age? Because fifteen, for all of its responsibility and drive and desire is still an innocent child and...
Tony pressed his eyes against Pepper's shoulder and trembled through a deep inhale that is far too wet. He holds it, fights it, long enough for his shoulders to hitch and his fingers to dig into brushed silk but he'd lost his last barricade and when his breath slips back out in a rush of air it takes with it three decades of every denial he'd managed to throw in the way.
If asked how long they'd sat that way, him weeping and her comforting, he'd be just as clueless had they simply been chatting about the upcoming Stark Expo. It didn't matter.
What mattered was that, when he'd finally stopped soiling Pepper's blouse she had kissed his forehead and pulled him into the shower and washed him, head to toe, until the hands from long ago were no longer on his skin.
He still wasn't certain what he really thought about it. He'd spent so much time in a different head space that this... awakening... was going to need some unpacking.
But it was good. Like, really good. This... he could work with this.
Happy came out of the bedroom when they were thirty minutes from the airport. He'd only taken a moment to pause, looking Pepper over with a frown. “You change your shirt?”
She smiled in return; that sorta accommodating look of which the men in her life were used to being on the receiving end. “I wasn't comfortable.”
He nodded. “Uh huh.” He then tipped his head to take in the both of them. “Hey, you call the kid?”
Tony ran his hand across his slacks but didn't feel his phone; remembering he'd left it on the en suite counter before showering. “Uh... yeah. Knew there was something...”
“Jesus, Tony, you know I'm supposed to be picking him up in, like...” Happy checked his watch and groaned.
“Look, Pep and I will go get everything ready as soon as we land. You... I dunno, improvise.”
“Improvise? Like, what, show up at his school?” Happy scrubbed a hand across his scalp.
Shrugging, Tony pulled his seatbelt across his lap as the plane began to tilt towards the runway. “Why not? Tell you what; have him meet you in the bathroom.”
Grabbing his own seat, Happy belted in with an aghast stare. “The bathroom. Sure. No way that looks suspicious.”
Pepper leaned in while Happy continued to grouse under his breath. “Are you really sure you want him to meet Peter in the bathroom? You know, we could just call him...”
Tony kissed her nose. “Okay, for one, he's a kid. Kids love surprises. And, two, you really think Happy is going to just lurk in a high school bathroom? He'll probably just have the kid meet him out front.”
Pepper smiled back at him and kissed his lips. “This is good. What you're doing. Though I gotta say, I wish you'd say something to the aunt.”
Tony took her hand; rubbing his fingers over her knuckles. “That's on Pete. I promised I'd stay out of it.” He grinned as the plane touched down on the tarmac. “Besides, I'm sure she'll handle it like a champ.”
Pepper snorted, squeezing his hand in return. “Oh, I can only imagine.”