“Can you sit?” Tony asks in a way that makes utterly no sense, wrapping an arm around thick red curtains. There’s probably dust mites all over the darn thing, but alcohol has managed to dull the receptors in his brain enough not to register. The material is cool against his cheek and it’s helping him stay upright. That’s what the most important thing is.
The molecules break down in his system quickly. His tolerance is astronomical and he’s developed a little something to help with his liver regeneration. Technically, it’s also helped patch up some Avengers and give JARVIS’ technological corpse a body too, and those are both much more useful things…but one can never underestimate the power of a rich man using his money and influence to allow him to pursue his vices to their extreme.
He’s not much more clear eyed when Steve returns, wheeling in the cart laden with a variety of food smells that must clash to the overly sensitive nose, but he does spot the guy from the front desk downstairs lingering in the still-open doorway. “He’ll be right with you,” Tony manages to articulate, using the curtains to pick himself back up to his feet from the half-sit, half-lean on the sill that he had been doing. “Go tip the nice, flirty clerk before I throw up all over your shoes.”
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
momijizukamori![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2018-06-21 07:31 pm (UTC)The molecules break down in his system quickly. His tolerance is astronomical and he’s developed a little something to help with his liver regeneration. Technically, it’s also helped patch up some Avengers and give JARVIS’ technological corpse a body too, and those are both much more useful things…but one can never underestimate the power of a rich man using his money and influence to allow him to pursue his vices to their extreme.
He’s not much more clear eyed when Steve returns, wheeling in the cart laden with a variety of food smells that must clash to the overly sensitive nose, but he does spot the guy from the front desk downstairs lingering in the still-open doorway. “He’ll be right with you,” Tony manages to articulate, using the curtains to pick himself back up to his feet from the half-sit, half-lean on the sill that he had been doing. “Go tip the nice, flirty clerk before I throw up all over your shoes.”
He won’t. He’s not a puker. Lucky for Steve.
“I’ll just fall face first into the pizza.”