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Fountain
Tony rose his head with a startled yelp, swatting his arms around in the water as he caught his breath.
You rose your head seconds later, splashes mingling with your unabashed laughter.
"You threw me in a fountain?" Tony said with breathless disbelief.
You giggled, backing away.
Suddenly, Tony's gaze became more predatory than affronted, and your eyes widened.
Oh no.
He spit out some water as he lunged for you. "Come here!"
Brontide
"Thunder," You observed from the glass, ignoring the breathtaking view of the New York in favor of the dark sky. You frowned. "Do you think that means Zeus is angry, or he's having a particularly good orgasm?"
"Considering we're talking Greek gods," Tony began with curved lips, "probably both."
"You think he does it to impress Greek chicks?"
That made Tony rise from his project to smirk at you. "He's Zeus, (Y/n), he does everything to impress Greek chicks."
Alcohol
"Never?" Tony gaped at you from the couch.
"Never."
An outsider would think Tony had come across some horrible yet wonderful exotic creature from the way he was looking at you. "Your life is horrible and full of strife."
"Because I've never had alcohol?"
"That, and because you seem happy about it."
"Is it that important, Tony?"
...
A sigh. "Hand me the bottle."
Tony gave a "ha!" and did as you said. "Welcome to the club, adult person."
Bed
There was no bed like a Tony Stark bed. Pieces of heaven, they were. Fluffed with pillows big and small and covers so warm and soft you would think he had roasted them to perfection.
The only thing that made them better was him.
“Oh, god,” he said, plopping in bed one night. “Everyone’s dumb. Everyone has officially graduated from the university of D.U.M.B. except us. Hold me? I want to be held.”
You did so, giggling at his moaning.
Your feet and Tony’s met under the heat of the bed. You drew shapes on his left one with your big toe.
Hands
He liked your hands a lot. Would graze fingers against your own absentmindedly, would trace the lines of your palms as though reading them for signs of your future, would rub your knuckles.
“You have the nicest hands, you know that?” he said. “I mean, some women’s hands give me nightmares, but yours are surprisingly lovely.”
Morning
Mornings were always a sweet, still occasion with Tony. Before JARVIS ... and Pepper ... and just about the the entire spinning globe that somehow became very spiteful after 8 pm.
But until then ...
You threw more covers over your shoulders and rested against Tony's neck, hoping to hold on to this final quiet hour forever.
Nowhere
It was every girl’s dream — especially at the time — to straddle a motorcycle and have her hot boyfriend whisk her away, leaving puffs of debris in their wake.
You had lived that dream.
November, 12, 1987.
“But where are we going?” You said, yet doing as you were ordered and settling yourself on the automobile.
“Nowhere,” Tony said. “Just out.”
"Nowhere," Tony pressed, jiggling your shoulders before mounting himself. "What? Nowhere ain't good enough for you? I think it's an incredibly fitting locale."
You looked out to the sunset, fastening your helmet as the gears roared to life. It caramelized everything, turning the roads from black asphalt to bright orange and sweet red, and you could imagine riding into it with Tony, disappearing.
That sounded nice.
“Nowhere is great,” You said, wrapping arms around his waist. “Nowhere is incredible.”
Proposal
His doe-like eyes glued to you, he knelled down, never breaking the gaze.
Your heart jumped — he wasn’t going to?! —
“Your shoes untied.”
…
Oh.
Tony took it upon himself, lacing you back up.
“Oh,” he said, raising his head. “By the way: Do you want to get married?”
You reeled back. “What? —”
“Oopstooslow,” he said in one breath, getting up and jogging away from you. “Better luck next time.”
“Tony!” You chased after him. “That was the single unfunniest thing that has ever happened. Not. Funny!”
Tired
You could see it, though you wouldn’t say; the rings around his eyes, the way he hunched over his desk, the way he wore the stress or perhaps the stress wore him like suit and kept him both awake and begging for sleep.
You felt it, too.
Forever(or Right Now)
It was an empty word that evoked nothing. It was fairy tales and myth when not applied to certain things — like pain, or struggle.
Nothing lasted forever, not even pain, not even the struggle. Eventually, all wore out, surrendered to dirt and reverted back to dust, to atoms and carried away into the air in order to make something different. Something better, or maybe worst.
… You choose not to think of any of that.
You choose to smile, and hold Tony’s hand, and admire his own smile, and watch the sun slowly climb over the horizon, reclaiming its place in the sky and light a new morning.
Right now. What was happening right now.
Sounded better.