I had someone to clean up for. ( it's a cheesy thing to say but scott's a cheesy guy, so it all fits. he's not very used to wearing suits--the last one he wore was likely something cheap and rental-esque for his trial after the whole vistacorp ideal--but tony looks proud and scott actually feels like a pretty cool person right now (not 007 super spy cool, but cool nevertheless). this is a good place to be. ) But I'm thinking maybe I should've thought of shaving or something, you know?
( he finally takes a good look at tony from anywhere besides from beneath his lashes, and--okay, that's definitely grease on his face. and his hair's messy. and seriously, even the outfit he's got on fits every single 'inventor' cliche, and scott's expression goes all soft and fond before he can do anything about it. )
Jeez. You even look like you just made a flamethrower, you know that?
( reaching out, scott dips his thumb in the grease mark and presses hard to wipe it off. then he stares at it where it rests on the pad of his thumb. )
[Whatever, it might be a cheesy line but Tony is still smiling pretty damn broadly, anyway. If anything, he looks a little proud when Scott mentions that he had someone to clean up for.] Eh, whatever. Minor details. The stubble looks good with that suit.
[It's said casually, but it's not a lie. He's about to say something, but he catches how Scott is watching him, and Tony feels so completely disarmed by the look on his face that at first he doesn't even know what to say. It's until then that he realizes he probably should have changed from the jeans and t-shirt that have seen better days, but before he can excuse himself to go change Scott is wiping the grease off of him. And his brain, god, it feels like it legitimately short circuits a little because he doesn't know what to say. Not because he doesn't have an answer to his question, he just...hadn't been expecting that.]
...oh. Uh, I...was bored?
[And apparently his brain decided to do weird shit when it was running on little sleep, and a shit-ton of caffeine. He really didn't want to tell him that part, though. Rhodey already gives him enough crap about that.]
It's pretty cool, though. I have targets to shoot at and everything.
You have-- ( scott actually laughs at that, caught somewhere between disbelief and genuine awe. tony's in another league of his own, but scott sort of figured that much what with the iron man suit's initial conception, to begin with. ) --dude, targets? As in you found stuff lying around to shoot at, or you seriously cut out these circles and drew red circles inside to... plan the targeting out...
( what is even the point of asking? scott's going to see the display eventually. but apparently being picked up (rescued) from the drab everyday life of an average-ordinary bachelor (sitting on the couch watching re-runs of bug documentaries and eating handfuls of popcorn at a time) by his rich friend (who is cool and kind of adorable in his vintage t-shirt) makes his mouth run.
not that his mouth doesn't always run. he's just a lot more excited now. )
Dude, it sounds cool, I'm not gonna lie. It also sounds like something I want to play with, but now I'm worried I'll set your lab--training area?--on fire. Because I tend to break... ( his lips twist into a vague frown, head canting to the side. ) ... huh. Actually, now that I think about it, the only time I went to the compound was when I stole from it.
Wait. ( now he's gesturing to his suit. ) How did you know my measurements?
Yeah, targets! [If Tony looks smug as shit, it's because he totally is. Of course he'd have targets, the look on his face says, like it's the most logical thing in the world. Why wouldn't he have targets to test out his awesome flamethrower?] No bullseyes, just old spare parts that I can't use anymore for the suit. So, you know. Recycling is important, right?
[He's not ever going to admit that parts of that suit are from the one that Steve destroyed in Siberia, or suits that drowned when the Mandarin attacked his house in Malibu. They're parts of old wrecks that his life kept turning into, and Tony wanted to burn the damn things down in his own way. Not that he had set out to do anything so dramatic, really, but it just turned out that way. Maybe his brain just worked better on lack of sleep.
At the mention of the possibility of burning his lab down, Tony lets out a laugh. It seems to rumble out of his throat, but it's real and not forced at all.]
Dude, don't worry about it. Dummy has been queued up for fire duty, and we'll be in a lab away from the compound. If we do burn something down then, whatever, we'll contain it.
[...is it normal that he doesn't even worry about that anymore? Huh. He isn't sure of that answer, and he wonders what Scott things about that and what that says about himself that he's just so meh about burning his damn lab down, but the thing is, if it did, it's easy to fix. He'd take those sorts of problems any damn day of the week.
The question about the measurements make Tony's smile widened.] Lucky guess? You want anything to drink? I mean, I'd offer a martini to go along with the whole Bond thing, but i haven't added a bar to this yet. I have water and some sports drinks, though.
[No, he's totally not changing the subject. Except that he is.]
I could go for a Gatorade. Drink of my alma mater, did you know that? ( scott doesn't trust tony's smile, which means now he's wondering whether or not he wants to pursue the measurement thing. he could do it now, while they're in the relative safety of a jet on auto-pilot (scott hasn't even been on a jet before and now he's on one on fucking auto-pilot, oh god, tony is so cool), or he could do it later when he has a flamethrower in his hand and can point it at tony threateningly.
maybe the latter. ) My alma mater that usually hated when I blew shit up in the lab doing my crazy engineering experiments, because apparently I thought Optimus Prime would be a good idea for Christmas time.
( he's following tony for the most part, touching more things than he has to touch. the walls! the chairs! everything is here is probably worth more than scott's general computed net worth, jesus. he's tempted to ask if tony has pac-man somehow. )
You sound like you're used to explosions, which is both awesome and worrisome and makes me wonder if I should shave my eyebrows now to save you the trouble.
I did not know that. [Which is a lie. He does know. Just how he knew about Cassie long before Scott even brought her up. But he knows that sounds borderline stalkerish (which, hey, he did it all because he was feeling guilty over who went to jail thanks to him Ross), so he doesn't mention it.
Instead, he just goes to the fridge for two Gatorades, glancing over at Scott when he talks about his college days. Which prompts a smile out of Tony, especially at the mention of Optimus Prime.] Optimus Prime is a good idea any time of the year. Why Christmas time? I'm assuming the experiment didn't work out, since I didn't hear anything about a giant robot destroying a college?
[Offering him the Gatorade, he smiles. The look on Scott's face is something he can't quite look away from, but he forces himself to look down at his own drink so that it doesn't look like he's straight up staring.]
I was a weapons manufacturer, remember? I used to test all my own stuff. Plenty of explosions. [He chuckles.] No need to shave off your eyebrows. I mean, [He motions to his own] see? These still look pretty damn good.
They look great, I'll admit, but you're also rich and can afford to have new eyebrows, so I'm gonna take it with a grain of salt-- ( scott lets his lips pull into a deep frown for a split-second before twisting the cap of his gatorade off and taking a good gulp out of it. ) --and look for a razor as soon as we get to your lab.
( he's teasing, of course. he only believes with 98% of his being that maybe he'll lose his eyebrows in this entire ordeal. there's still 2% of him that is whole-heartedly sure his face will stay intact, and that's just because it's hard not to believe a guy he's really started to like over time. )
Also, the blue Gatorade is my favourite. You're just getting all the points today, aren't you? ( scott grins now, taking more out of his drink and then sitting on one of the armrests and looking tony's way. )
Scott Lang's Optimus Prime was just as tall as he was, by the way. The only casualties involved were Mr. Lang, his dorm room, and maybe some of the cats Optimus Prime chased around outside the dorm building.
There was just, uh, an issue with overloading. So he blew up in the lab on my last day working on him when I was trying to get all the features working. ( cue jazzhands. ) Go figure?
He was supposed to be a remote-controlled gift-giving kinda thing. Car form for going around, bi-pedal form for actually giving it--that whole she-bang. I don't know. College me was not the smartest guy.
Are you implying my eyebrows are fake and bought? That just hurts, you know. [He even puts a hand over his heart dramatically, trying to keep a straight face as if he really is offended. Mostly he's amused. And he idly wonders if Rhodey has ever shared college stories, because Scott would definitely know that he had burnt off his eyebrows at least twice in college.
He grins, though, when Scott points out that Tony got his favorite flavor of Gatorade. Yep, he's definitely proud of getting all the points.]
That is awesome. Have you ever tried to make him again? I mean, without making him overload. The chasing cats still sounds hilarious. [He's delighted by this story. It's obvious in his features, and the way he just can't seem to stop smiling.]
It's probably a good thing we didn't coincide in college. We would have probably blown up a few labs while trying to make Transformers come to life.
( scott's eyes go wide, mouth dropping a little, and then he blinks and shakes his head to snap himself out of his stupor. ) Dude!
Are you kidding me? If we met in college I--holy shit, Tony, I would've killed to build Transformers with you! Don't even joke about that!
( he's on a roll now, which isn't a good sign. he downs his gatorade like a dying rock star would down several gallons of tequila, some split-second memory that, shit, he's wearing the suit, being the only thing that keeps him from swiping his sleeve over his mouth to clean whatever excess is there. )
I couldn't re-make Optimus after college 'cause I had to go job-hunting, and then there was the whole marriage thing and Maggie didn't like when I did big things like that, and I guess it just sort of... it slipped my mind...
( there's a brief sadness to his tone he didn't expect--some measure of unspoken regret. scott pushes that aside with a smile. )
I mean, shit, I'm good at things, but I don't think I'm that good. ( he laughs, rubs the side of his neck. ) I'm way too rusty now.
You realize we can still make a Transformer, right? I mean, I know, we're probably too old for that, but let's face it. That is not a reason to not at least try.
[And no, he's not joking. With their brains together, man. Tony already knows that they would make a badass Optimus Prime. Which...is probably not a good thing(?), but it sounds like it has been way too long since Scott tried his hands in robotics. Why not try again?
The hint of sadness in his tone makes Tony pause for a moment, though, and his train of thought feels like it derails. Scott pushes past it like a champ, and Tony smiles back to not make him feel uncomfortable, but his heart still manages to feel like it tightens up nonetheless.]
It's okay to be rusty. I take breaks in between projects all the time. You've just been in a long break. But I'm sure you'll get it.
[He says it with all the confidence in the world, because it's true. He believes it. But, just in case Scott doesn't feel comfortable with this subject anymore, he nods towards the cockpit.]
Do you want to sit in the pilot seat? It'll stay in autopilot, but you can sit up front if you want shotgun.
( scott laughs, head ducking a little before he looks up a moment through his lashes--awkward, small. it's strange to come to the realisation that marrying maggie had held him back the way it did; she'd always said no, always denied his big dreams, always told him to stay home, stay safe. it's even stranger that it has to happen here with tony stark who's accomplished more than scott ever could, flamethrower and targets and private fucking jet and all.
but he's smiling. tony really is a lot nicer than the television, the press, just about anyone--makes him out to be. )
You gotta take pictures of me sitting there and Snapchat 'em to Cassie.
( and then he's going.
it's only when he's settled in the chair, eyes wide as he looks out the front window and at the vast expanse of clouds and sky they move through and over, that he speaks again. but scott's so mesmerised by the concept of flying the way that he is his words come up a little softer than intended. )
... we should make something together one day. Yeah.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
im_ironman | i am just full of bad decisions today
I had someone to clean up for. ( it's a cheesy thing to say but scott's a cheesy guy, so it all fits. he's not very used to wearing suits--the last one he wore was likely something cheap and rental-esque for his trial after the whole vistacorp ideal--but tony looks proud and scott actually feels like a pretty cool person right now (not 007 super spy cool, but cool nevertheless). this is a good place to be. ) But I'm thinking maybe I should've thought of shaving or something, you know?
( he finally takes a good look at tony from anywhere besides from beneath his lashes, and--okay, that's definitely grease on his face. and his hair's messy. and seriously, even the outfit he's got on fits every single 'inventor' cliche, and scott's expression goes all soft and fond before he can do anything about it. )
Jeez. You even look like you just made a flamethrower, you know that?
( reaching out, scott dips his thumb in the grease mark and presses hard to wipe it off. then he stares at it where it rests on the pad of his thumb. )
Why did you make a flamethrower, Tony?
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[It's said casually, but it's not a lie. He's about to say something, but he catches how Scott is watching him, and Tony feels so completely disarmed by the look on his face that at first he doesn't even know what to say. It's until then that he realizes he probably should have changed from the jeans and t-shirt that have seen better days, but before he can excuse himself to go change Scott is wiping the grease off of him. And his brain, god, it feels like it legitimately short circuits a little because he doesn't know what to say. Not because he doesn't have an answer to his question, he just...hadn't been expecting that.]
...oh. Uh, I...was bored?
[And apparently his brain decided to do weird shit when it was running on little sleep, and a shit-ton of caffeine. He really didn't want to tell him that part, though. Rhodey already gives him enough crap about that.]
It's pretty cool, though. I have targets to shoot at and everything.
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( what is even the point of asking? scott's going to see the display eventually. but apparently being picked up (rescued) from the drab everyday life of an average-ordinary bachelor (sitting on the couch watching re-runs of bug documentaries and eating handfuls of popcorn at a time) by his rich friend (who is cool and kind of adorable in his vintage t-shirt) makes his mouth run.
not that his mouth doesn't always run. he's just a lot more excited now. )
Dude, it sounds cool, I'm not gonna lie. It also sounds like something I want to play with, but now I'm worried I'll set your lab--training area?--on fire. Because I tend to break... ( his lips twist into a vague frown, head canting to the side. ) ... huh. Actually, now that I think about it, the only time I went to the compound was when I stole from it.
Wait. ( now he's gesturing to his suit. ) How did you know my measurements?
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[He's not ever going to admit that parts of that suit are from the one that Steve destroyed in Siberia, or suits that drowned when the Mandarin attacked his house in Malibu. They're parts of old wrecks that his life kept turning into, and Tony wanted to burn the damn things down in his own way. Not that he had set out to do anything so dramatic, really, but it just turned out that way. Maybe his brain just worked better on lack of sleep.
At the mention of the possibility of burning his lab down, Tony lets out a laugh. It seems to rumble out of his throat, but it's real and not forced at all.]
Dude, don't worry about it. Dummy has been queued up for fire duty, and we'll be in a lab away from the compound. If we do burn something down then, whatever, we'll contain it.
[...is it normal that he doesn't even worry about that anymore? Huh. He isn't sure of that answer, and he wonders what Scott things about that and what that says about himself that he's just so meh about burning his damn lab down, but the thing is, if it did, it's easy to fix. He'd take those sorts of problems any damn day of the week.
The question about the measurements make Tony's smile widened.] Lucky guess? You want anything to drink? I mean, I'd offer a martini to go along with the whole Bond thing, but i haven't added a bar to this yet. I have water and some sports drinks, though.
[No, he's totally not changing the subject.
Except that he is.]no subject
maybe the latter. ) My alma mater that usually hated when I blew shit up in the lab doing my crazy engineering experiments, because apparently I thought Optimus Prime would be a good idea for Christmas time.
( he's following tony for the most part, touching more things than he has to touch. the walls! the chairs! everything is here is probably worth more than scott's general computed net worth, jesus. he's tempted to ask if tony has pac-man somehow. )
You sound like you're used to explosions, which is both awesome and worrisome and makes me wonder if I should shave my eyebrows now to save you the trouble.
no subject
himRoss), so he doesn't mention it.Instead, he just goes to the fridge for two Gatorades, glancing over at Scott when he talks about his college days. Which prompts a smile out of Tony, especially at the mention of Optimus Prime.] Optimus Prime is a good idea any time of the year. Why Christmas time? I'm assuming the experiment didn't work out, since I didn't hear anything about a giant robot destroying a college?
[Offering him the Gatorade, he smiles. The look on Scott's face is something he can't quite look away from, but he forces himself to look down at his own drink so that it doesn't look like he's straight up staring.]
I was a weapons manufacturer, remember? I used to test all my own stuff. Plenty of explosions. [He chuckles.] No need to shave off your eyebrows. I mean, [He motions to his own] see? These still look pretty damn good.
no subject
( he's teasing, of course. he only believes with 98% of his being that maybe he'll lose his eyebrows in this entire ordeal. there's still 2% of him that is whole-heartedly sure his face will stay intact, and that's just because it's hard not to believe a guy he's really started to like over time. )
Also, the blue Gatorade is my favourite. You're just getting all the points today, aren't you? ( scott grins now, taking more out of his drink and then sitting on one of the armrests and looking tony's way. )
Scott Lang's Optimus Prime was just as tall as he was, by the way. The only casualties involved were Mr. Lang, his dorm room, and maybe some of the cats Optimus Prime chased around outside the dorm building.
There was just, uh, an issue with overloading. So he blew up in the lab on my last day working on him when I was trying to get all the features working. ( cue jazzhands. ) Go figure?
He was supposed to be a remote-controlled gift-giving kinda thing. Car form for going around, bi-pedal form for actually giving it--that whole she-bang. I don't know. College me was not the smartest guy.
no subject
He grins, though, when Scott points out that Tony got his favorite flavor of Gatorade. Yep, he's definitely proud of getting all the points.]
That is awesome. Have you ever tried to make him again? I mean, without making him overload. The chasing cats still sounds hilarious. [He's delighted by this story. It's obvious in his features, and the way he just can't seem to stop smiling.]
It's probably a good thing we didn't coincide in college. We would have probably blown up a few labs while trying to make Transformers come to life.
no subject
Are you kidding me? If we met in college I--holy shit, Tony, I would've killed to build Transformers with you! Don't even joke about that!
( he's on a roll now, which isn't a good sign. he downs his gatorade like a dying rock star would down several gallons of tequila, some split-second memory that, shit, he's wearing the suit, being the only thing that keeps him from swiping his sleeve over his mouth to clean whatever excess is there. )
I couldn't re-make Optimus after college 'cause I had to go job-hunting, and then there was the whole marriage thing and Maggie didn't like when I did big things like that, and I guess it just sort of... it slipped my mind...
( there's a brief sadness to his tone he didn't expect--some measure of unspoken regret. scott pushes that aside with a smile. )
I mean, shit, I'm good at things, but I don't think I'm that good. ( he laughs, rubs the side of his neck. ) I'm way too rusty now.
no subject
[And no, he's not joking. With their brains together, man. Tony already knows that they would make a badass Optimus Prime. Which...is probably not a good thing(?), but it sounds like it has been way too long since Scott tried his hands in robotics. Why not try again?
The hint of sadness in his tone makes Tony pause for a moment, though, and his train of thought feels like it derails. Scott pushes past it like a champ, and Tony smiles back to not make him feel uncomfortable, but his heart still manages to feel like it tightens up nonetheless.]
It's okay to be rusty. I take breaks in between projects all the time. You've just been in a long break. But I'm sure you'll get it.
[He says it with all the confidence in the world, because it's true. He believes it. But, just in case Scott doesn't feel comfortable with this subject anymore, he nods towards the cockpit.]
Do you want to sit in the pilot seat? It'll stay in autopilot, but you can sit up front if you want shotgun.
no subject
but he's smiling. tony really is a lot nicer than the television, the press, just about anyone--makes him out to be. )
You gotta take pictures of me sitting there and Snapchat 'em to Cassie.
( and then he's going.
it's only when he's settled in the chair, eyes wide as he looks out the front window and at the vast expanse of clouds and sky they move through and over, that he speaks again. but scott's so mesmerised by the concept of flying the way that he is his words come up a little softer than intended. )
... we should make something together one day. Yeah.