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It’s been a wild day. Pepper resigned and got fired and almost died, and then she kissed Tony Stark and her brain hasn’t really caught up with anything after that. It’s stuck on that moment like a broken record player, playing it back to her on repeat.
Tony flies back to his New York residence while Pepper and Happy take the car, because no, there is no way she is letting Iron Man carry her again. When she reaches the penthouse, Tony is waiting for her, dressed only in a silk robe, and she can’t help but kiss him again, and then once more, and then - well, she can safely say now that there’s a reason why most men and women wouldn’t say no to a night in bed with Tony Stark.
Afterward, Pepper takes a shower in the ridiculously spacious bathtub. She’s never been someone who can go to bed without the routine of cleaning her body and calming her mind. Tony, his smile soft and his eyes fuzzy from sex, mumbled that he would join her after a few minutes, but he doesn’t show up. She finds she doesn’t mind, needing some time to let the thoughts run through her head while the hot water runs over her skin.
When she returns to the bedroom, she half expects Tony to be gone - either on the way to his workshop, to yet another party, or simply busy emptying the champagne in the minibar - but none of that is the case. With a surge of warmth flooding her chest, Pepper realises that he’s fast asleep.
Tony lives much of his life in public, but Pepper’s known him long enough to understand that he never voluntarily falls asleep in front of people whom he doesn’t trust.
She finds her underwear and pulls on a shirt that was on the ground before carefully sitting down on the edge of the mattress, not wanting to wake him.
Tony is lying on his side, curled a little into himself, his breaths coming out calm and even. He’s naked and the sheets are only pulled up halfway to his chest, leaving the arc reactor fully exposed. Maybe Pepper’s mistaken, but it seems to her like the device is shining brighter than it used to.
He looks peaceful, but also exhausted, tired as if he could sleep for a hundred years right on the spot. The rings under his eyes are so dark that it seems like someone painted them on, but the rest of his face is paler than it used to be, having lost most of its natural tan. His cheekbones stand out, and, Pepper realises with a look at his ribs that are visibly poking through his skin, he looks thin in an unhealthy way, almost gaunt, as if he’s lost a lot of weight very quickly.
Palladium poisoning, it whispers in her head, and she bites her lip and tries not to think about all the implications, about trust and guilt and responsibilities, about who’s at fault here and how could that happen and why didn’t I notice, because this is supposed to be a night of celebration.
There are scars all over Tony’s chest and shoulders, serving as a reminder of Afghanistan and the very first of his suits. The scratches and bruises on his arms speak of his most recent fight, while the scorches and calluses covering his hands tell much of his work in the lab. Pepper likes them, likes this version of him so much better than the sleek and handsome businessman he presents to the world. So much better also than his armoured alter ego who tries so hard to save it.
How can you love someone so much, she wonders, looking at the man who is so far from perfect and yet the only one who ever seems to matter.
She crouches down next to him, and, in a move so unlike her that it seems like she’s watching someone else do it, presses her lips to his forehead in a silent kiss.
Tony blinks, confused, then focuses on her and his eyes seem to erupt in sparkles. He rolls over with stiff muscles and pats the bedsheets next to him in a silent invitation.
“Jump in, Miss Potts,” he whispers with a smirk.
And she does.