— but he’ll be there after dinner. not in balfour-approved attire, of course, just a dark hoodie and jeans, white sneakers too clean to have made the journey from home. he runs his fingers along a line of machines, knuckles rapping against the plastic. reminds him of the fuck-off massive store for these they had in kuala lumpur. must’ve been hundreds of these bobbles, and crowds to match.
seeing as he was blowing what little cash he had on other indulgences, he’s never been much of a collector before. ]
Hey! [ waving tony over to where he’s crouching with a burst of brightness. ] I think these guys are super.
[ since one of the half-tinted balls contains what looks like a tiny spider-man. ]
[ The house is pretty weird, but Tony assumes that's to be expected -- maybe it would be weirder if it wasn't weird. He's still getting used to the way the rooms move, so he's a little later than he'd planned to be, having somehow ended up on the second floor on the wrong side of the manor -- should have taken that left turn at Albuquerque. When he finally strolls in, he's likewise dressed down, reclaiming athleisure for middle-aged men with an eye to heading to the gym later. He's also picked up a green smoothie from the new spa place, an indulgence he sincerely missed in the commune, thank god for readily available wheatgrass.
He wanders over to meet Bob, white accents on his sweatpants glowing in the arcade-style lighting, and surveys the machine he's chosen. ]
Hey, neat. [ He reaches out to tap the menu of available toys with the base of his smoothie cup. ] Hulk design is way off, though. Purple shorts are so last year. You got enough quarters, kiddo? I could probably stretch to an advance on your allowance. Got some coins left over from last time.
[ it’s — not nothing, the way tony looks after him. being a master of a kind in the commune, if only to keep him from being misused. teasing in the vernacular of a boss or a parent. he tries to avoid thinking about the scant days where val doted on him, but he does, anyway. it rewired his brain so easily in part because he’d never had attention of that kind before, not from someone in that position.
and certainly not from a real hero like tony stark. ]
I won’t say no to an assist. [ ducking his head. laughing a little at the absurdity of playing thirty-year-old-intern-kiddo-question-mark for tony. he presses his tongue against his teeth. thinks something over. then he glances up, eyes sparking with preemptive amusement, and holds out his hand expectantly. ]
But it’s maybe more, uh, backpay than an advance.
[ in the mixed metaphors of their relationship thus far. he did a lot of unpayed hours at the commune, mr stark. hand-feeding and tendering and all. ]
[ It's a fair point to make. Tony isn't spending too much time trying to remember most of what he allowed himself to get up to in the commune, the boundaries he just walked all over with strangers and friends alike. There's only so far he can go with it was about survival and I had no choice, the boilerplate reassurance only feeling more hollow every time he has to use it on himself.
So. Trying not to think too much about it. Looking down into Bob's big spaniel eyes is helpful in giving him an off-ramp towards something else to think about. ]
Remind me to get you to sign a contract next time.
[ But he's digging in his pocket, pulling out a handful of gacha coins that he spills into Bob's waiting palm. That done, he rests his hand on top of Bob's head in mock benediction. ]
Go forth, young man. May the gods of tiny plastic balls be kind.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
feels like he chose you
i should probably get my own
no subject
no subject
yeah okay
sounds cool
[ hating that he said that ✔️
— but he’ll be there after dinner. not in balfour-approved attire, of course, just a dark hoodie and jeans, white sneakers too clean to have made the journey from home. he runs his fingers along a line of machines, knuckles rapping against the plastic. reminds him of the fuck-off massive store for these they had in kuala lumpur. must’ve been hundreds of these bobbles, and crowds to match.
seeing as he was blowing what little cash he had on other indulgences, he’s never been much of a collector before. ]
Hey! [ waving tony over to where he’s crouching with a burst of brightness. ] I think these guys are super.
[ since one of the half-tinted balls contains what looks like a tiny spider-man. ]
no subject
He wanders over to meet Bob, white accents on his sweatpants glowing in the arcade-style lighting, and surveys the machine he's chosen. ]
Hey, neat. [ He reaches out to tap the menu of available toys with the base of his smoothie cup. ] Hulk design is way off, though. Purple shorts are so last year. You got enough quarters, kiddo? I could probably stretch to an advance on your allowance. Got some coins left over from last time.
no subject
and certainly not from a real hero like tony stark. ]
I won’t say no to an assist. [ ducking his head. laughing a little at the absurdity of playing thirty-year-old-intern-kiddo-question-mark for tony. he presses his tongue against his teeth. thinks something over. then he glances up, eyes sparking with preemptive amusement, and holds out his hand expectantly. ]
But it’s maybe more, uh, backpay than an advance.
[ in the mixed metaphors of their relationship thus far. he did a lot of unpayed hours at the commune, mr stark. hand-feeding and tendering and all. ]
no subject
So. Trying not to think too much about it. Looking down into Bob's big spaniel eyes is helpful in giving him an off-ramp towards something else to think about. ]
Remind me to get you to sign a contract next time.
[ But he's digging in his pocket, pulling out a handful of gacha coins that he spills into Bob's waiting palm. That done, he rests his hand on top of Bob's head in mock benediction. ]
Go forth, young man. May the gods of tiny plastic balls be kind.