iron man ficlet... thing
I don't know. I needed a break from work, and a friend said, "What if Tony wants Pepper to try on the suit?" and I meant to write some porn but instead I took half an hour and wrote this. It's about 500 words of unbetaed cracktastic fluffy proto-fic that may or may not go somewhere porntastic at a later date. God only knows anymore. I am not in control of this Iron Man thing.
***
"Pepper, I need you for a few minutes."
"Be right there," she says. She quickly finishes e-mailing the MIT alumni committee and heads down to the shop. Tony's sitting on the floor, surrounded by pieces of his suit and what appear to be fabric samples. He is... sewing? She can't tell, but that doesn't seem right. "You called?"
She turns down the Black Sabbath just in time to hear him say, "Yeah. I need you to take off your pants."
It's not often that he renders her speechless, but that does it. It's not the phrase, exactly -- she is pretty sure he's told her to take her pants off on several occasions -- but the way he says it: casually, without looking at her, and in the same tone he uses to ask her to order a pizza.
"I'm not wearing pants."
"Your skirt, then," he says, still entirely focused on whatever he's doing. "Off."
"Tony."
"Pepper, I don't have all day! I need your help."
"And this help requires me to be without pants."
The frustration in her tone must have gotten through to him, because he finally stops fiddling and looks up at her. He blinks, and for a second he seems impossibly young, sitting there cross-legged on the floor, covered in grease, surrounded by toys. Then he ruins it with a slow, too-knowing grin. "I always require you to be without pants, Pepper."
"I'm leaving now." She turns to go.
"No! No, seriously, sorry. Look, the suit needs new lining and I can't wear it and also work on it, so you have to wear it. And yes, that requires you to be without pants. And your shirt, but I was going to wait until you had your pants off to tell you that."
He looks apologetic, but only a little.
"Don't you have robots for this sort of thing? Get Butterfingers to take off his pants."
"Butterfingers doesn't have skin, and I'm trying to test skin stuff."
"Skin stuff." She crosses her arms. That probably means he's going to set the fabric on fire and see if it hurts.
"Okay," he says, rolling his eyes and brandishing one of the samples at her. "I'm testing the moisture wicking and the carbon polymer--"
"You want me to take my skirt off so you can test the moisture wicking of your suit liner? First of all, my legs are not sweating--"
"There's a hose right--"
"And you still haven't given me a compelling reason--"
"Pepper." He puts down the fabric sample and stands up. "Stop talking. I was kidding about the hose. I've already tested the moisture wicking, okay? I don't need to test the inside of the fabric. I need to test the outside and how it reacts with the next layer of lining, and yes, that requires an actual human being with an actual body temperature."
He takes a step closer, and she can see the grin hovering on the edges of his eyes. He sounds mostly sincere when he says, "I promise I am not just trying to get you naked. That would involve, I don't know, better music."
"All right, all right," she says, rolling her eyes. "Don't hurt yourself rationalizing." She reaches for the zipper.
***
"Pepper, I need you for a few minutes."
"Be right there," she says. She quickly finishes e-mailing the MIT alumni committee and heads down to the shop. Tony's sitting on the floor, surrounded by pieces of his suit and what appear to be fabric samples. He is... sewing? She can't tell, but that doesn't seem right. "You called?"
She turns down the Black Sabbath just in time to hear him say, "Yeah. I need you to take off your pants."
It's not often that he renders her speechless, but that does it. It's not the phrase, exactly -- she is pretty sure he's told her to take her pants off on several occasions -- but the way he says it: casually, without looking at her, and in the same tone he uses to ask her to order a pizza.
"I'm not wearing pants."
"Your skirt, then," he says, still entirely focused on whatever he's doing. "Off."
"Tony."
"Pepper, I don't have all day! I need your help."
"And this help requires me to be without pants."
The frustration in her tone must have gotten through to him, because he finally stops fiddling and looks up at her. He blinks, and for a second he seems impossibly young, sitting there cross-legged on the floor, covered in grease, surrounded by toys. Then he ruins it with a slow, too-knowing grin. "I always require you to be without pants, Pepper."
"I'm leaving now." She turns to go.
"No! No, seriously, sorry. Look, the suit needs new lining and I can't wear it and also work on it, so you have to wear it. And yes, that requires you to be without pants. And your shirt, but I was going to wait until you had your pants off to tell you that."
He looks apologetic, but only a little.
"Don't you have robots for this sort of thing? Get Butterfingers to take off his pants."
"Butterfingers doesn't have skin, and I'm trying to test skin stuff."
"Skin stuff." She crosses her arms. That probably means he's going to set the fabric on fire and see if it hurts.
"Okay," he says, rolling his eyes and brandishing one of the samples at her. "I'm testing the moisture wicking and the carbon polymer--"
"You want me to take my skirt off so you can test the moisture wicking of your suit liner? First of all, my legs are not sweating--"
"There's a hose right--"
"And you still haven't given me a compelling reason--"
"Pepper." He puts down the fabric sample and stands up. "Stop talking. I was kidding about the hose. I've already tested the moisture wicking, okay? I don't need to test the inside of the fabric. I need to test the outside and how it reacts with the next layer of lining, and yes, that requires an actual human being with an actual body temperature."
He takes a step closer, and she can see the grin hovering on the edges of his eyes. He sounds mostly sincere when he says, "I promise I am not just trying to get you naked. That would involve, I don't know, better music."
"All right, all right," she says, rolling her eyes. "Don't hurt yourself rationalizing." She reaches for the zipper.