long overdue

[watchesthewatchers]

It's Ricki's little ramshackle apartment, but there Peter is one morning, perched on the loveseat, reading a file, waiting for Bruce Wayne to arrive.

He has a gun, but tucked out of sight, not on his person. Just in case.

Comments

[zen_en_vert]

He pulls back, reaching to drive a fingernail into the tender inside of his ear. He wants him to fight not to squeak.

[profiteering]

He really has to fight against that, to not make a sound or shake his head or push at Bruce's hand. For Tony, especially, that's an incredible effort.

[zen_en_vert]

He eases off when he feels him about to break, and grabs the collar, instead.

Unfortunately, just as he twists it to tighten, his arm brushes Peter's shoulder and he stirs.

Bruce subsides quickly, innocently.

[profiteering]

Poor Tony is left dazed, semi-hard, clutching Peter and eager for the next move that isn't coming.

[watchesthewatchers]

Bruce turns Peter over gently, to murmur his goodmornings, stroke his hair back, share a moment while Tony collects himself. He checks his wrist, cautiously, and then promises him no one is angry.

[profiteering]

"You're so good, Peter."

Tony pipes in finally, nuzzling against his neck.

[watchesthewatchers]

"Sir."

Peter says, curiously, looking over his shoulder at him.

"Good morning. What are your plans for the day?"

[profiteering]

"First I want to give you almost anything you ask for. ...I need to call Ricki too."

He rubs his side.

"So you tell me, what are we doing first?"

[watchesthewatchers]

"Call Ricki."

He says, immediately.

"Make sure he's all right."

[profiteering]

Tony has the house phone on speaker, and just calls right there from the bed.

[rickitikitarr]

Ricki leans over Bruce in the bed to grasp for the phone, answering it with a muzzy;

"'lo?"

[profiteering]

Bruce is a terrible morning person; he turns over and buries his head under a pillow.

Tony sounds much too awake to be interrupting someone else's sleep.

"Morning, sunshine."

[rickitikitarr]

"Tony, love."

He says, crawling out of the bed to go take the call in the kitchen, sparing Bruce.

"I'm so sorry." Cluing back in to the power dynamic they have now; "This won't impact anything I'm doing."

[profiteering]

"What? No, no, take a week off."

He glances at Peter and Bruce, debating getting up and going to another room, but he wants Peter to hear and he wants Bruce's input later. Especially if this goes wrong.

"Are you okay?"

[rickitikitarr]

"I'm disappointed."

He admits, softly, going to put coffee on.

"But no sense crying over spilt milk."

[profiteering]

"You're still wanted here."

Now he's really glad Bruce hadn't let him do anything rash the night before.

[rickitikitarr]

"By you, or by Peter?"

He asks, quietly, transferring the phone to one ear.

"He seemed resigned last night, though I hear that may have been a broken wrist talking."

[profiteering]

"It was a broken wrist. And a bad finger. You think that's enough to make Peter Guillam stop giving a damn? I thought MI-6 made you learn how to profile people. The stubborn loyal ones, especially."

He gives Peter a wink, and then covers his mouth. No talking yet.

[rickitikitarr]

"Bruce feels less than proud of his actions. I think he's sorry."

Ricki admits, quietly.

[profiteering]

"...I'm glad to hear that. I thought I'd see if he'll talk to my Bruce."

He glances at him, just to be sure he's not opposed.

[rickitikitarr]

"He can't, dove, he's still got his head hidden under pillows."

Stuttering, catching the pet name.

"-Tony?"

[profiteering]

He smiles; it warms his tone a little.

"Yeah?"

[rickitikitarr]

"If you wanted, I'd like to spend some time together, next time I report in. Not working, just you and I."

[profiteering]

He doesn't know if he wants to grin or just sag in relief.

"Plan on it."

[rickitikitarr]

"It was pointed out to me last night that I, perhaps, have a tendency to read in scorn for me where there is none."

Sagging against the counter.

"I would hate to lose you over a misapprehension."