‘At’ is probably the very best word to describe what any conversation between two Tony Starks might be like. It had been somewhere around his seventeenth birthday, while attending MIT, that the caring and loving, if rambunctious, kid had finally decided to adopt a Me First And Only mentality. The boarding school he had been forced to before then had been easier on him, but the kids (and professors) at the prestigious institute had shunned his antics. Being the youngest, smartest and most talented person in his class had hardened him worse than Howard’s neglect ever had.
Though Tony’s ordeal in Afghanistan had reversed that particular course, and though he’s softer and more mild than he’d been when he was Steve’s age, 2012 hadn’t produced all that great of a vintage of Stark, despite what People and Time Magazines might have had the world thinking.
All of that will have to come later, though, once they sit down and have a heart to heart about how this had been a one way trip and that they can’t just live in the new future where everyone is healthy and happy and more constituted than dust particles.
The armor and the axe are carefully stowed behind a large stone that only Steve can move where the altar had once stood and the two of them, with Tony keeping his face pointing away from everyone he can, buy what they’ll need at a Duane Read store with minimal effort and no cause of alarm. It’s not until they get to the Four Seasons that there’s any real problems. Tony is recognized by the staff, which is not an issue considering his name is on the credit card, but the front desk clerk, a tall, dark skinned gentleman with peculiar green eyes, can’t stop staring at Steve the entire time that they’re checking in.
Handing over the keycard, noting the lack of luggage, and stepping around the desk to direct the party to the elevators, he slips a small note into Steve’s hand that Tony sees, and can’t help but comment on. Immediately. “Uh. Can we help you?” If this guy happens to be a Captain America fan, or if he’s the grandson of a Commando, they’re in trouble and Tony is going to have to come up with something fast before anyone can mention taking selfies.
The younger man, thankfully, looks dutifully shocked and apologetic. “I’m so sorry, Mr. Stark,” he says, voice rich with embarassment. His eyes sneak momentarily towards Steve before they drop again. “I should have been more professional than give your bodyguard my personal number while we are both working. But I uh… I want to assure you it was so that he can get in touch with me if you need anything special from the hotel!” Well, that last bit is a lie but Tony keeps his mouth shut on it, frowns, and hands Steve the drug store bag a little roughly.
Steve’s not going to hear the end of this, because the moment the annoyed-seeming Stark gets into the elevator and the door closes, he errupts with laughter. “Well hey! You’ve got yourself a date! Scraggly Lumberjack was bound to be someone’s type,” he says, rocking back on his heels.
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Date: 2018-06-15 06:00 pm (UTC)Though Tony’s ordeal in Afghanistan had reversed that particular course, and though he’s softer and more mild than he’d been when he was Steve’s age, 2012 hadn’t produced all that great of a vintage of Stark, despite what People and Time Magazines might have had the world thinking.
All of that will have to come later, though, once they sit down and have a heart to heart about how this had been a one way trip and that they can’t just live in the new future where everyone is healthy and happy and more constituted than dust particles.
The armor and the axe are carefully stowed behind a large stone that only Steve can move where the altar had once stood and the two of them, with Tony keeping his face pointing away from everyone he can, buy what they’ll need at a Duane Read store with minimal effort and no cause of alarm. It’s not until they get to the Four Seasons that there’s any real problems. Tony is recognized by the staff, which is not an issue considering his name is on the credit card, but the front desk clerk, a tall, dark skinned gentleman with peculiar green eyes, can’t stop staring at Steve the entire time that they’re checking in.
Handing over the keycard, noting the lack of luggage, and stepping around the desk to direct the party to the elevators, he slips a small note into Steve’s hand that Tony sees, and can’t help but comment on. Immediately. “Uh. Can we help you?” If this guy happens to be a Captain America fan, or if he’s the grandson of a Commando, they’re in trouble and Tony is going to have to come up with something fast before anyone can mention taking selfies.
The younger man, thankfully, looks dutifully shocked and apologetic. “I’m so sorry, Mr. Stark,” he says, voice rich with embarassment. His eyes sneak momentarily towards Steve before they drop again. “I should have been more professional than give your bodyguard my personal number while we are both working. But I uh… I want to assure you it was so that he can get in touch with me if you need anything special from the hotel!” Well, that last bit is a lie but Tony keeps his mouth shut on it, frowns, and hands Steve the drug store bag a little roughly.
Steve’s not going to hear the end of this, because the moment the annoyed-seeming Stark gets into the elevator and the door closes, he errupts with laughter. “Well hey! You’ve got yourself a date! Scraggly Lumberjack was bound to be someone’s type,” he says, rocking back on his heels.