Marvel 616 Fic: Undo | Epilogue
Oct. 23rd, 2013 11:42 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
The sun is pleasantly warm on Jim’s face when he walks the short distance from the taxi to the building, but it does nothing to ease the cold knot of dread in his stomach. Or maybe it’s just nervousness. He can’t even tell anymore.
All he knows is that entering a three-way relationship including a guy he has little to no ties with and then going away for a week before they had a chance to settle into anything is terrible timing.
He’d heard from Tony yesterday and Tony sounded well, only moderately stressed (what passes for relaxed by Tony’s current standards) and happy about Jim being on his way back. There was nothing in his voice that gave Jim reason for worry, and after days of doing just that, it calmed him down considerably. But now the doubt is back, and so is the dread. The whole arrangement was shaky from the start; he loves Tony but doesn’t know what to do with Rog— with Steve. Steve loves Tony but doesn’t know what to do with Jim. Tony loves both of them but is insecure about them loving him back and just generally terrible about having a personal life. This thing can’t work unless Jim and Steve manage to create something between them as well. Tony is not a child of divorced parents that one of them gets for the weekends.
And seven days are a long time for him to realize that he loves Steve better and can do well without Jim, actually. A part of Jim has been waiting for Tony to call and awkwardly tell him just that all week. The same part expects his apartment to be empty upon his arrival, with a note stuck to the refrigerator: “Gone to Fiji for honeymoon, left the keys under the doormat.”
There is no note on the refrigerator. Jim knows, because that’s where his gaze travels the moment he enters the apartment. He isn’t quite pathetic enough to check the doormat for hidden keys.
The place is, however, empty. Jim checks the bedroom, the bathroom, the office. Tony said he would be here. Steve apparently has business to take care off in New York and will be gone for a few days, but Tony stayed because he’s still off the Avengers’ rooster and will be for a while. Jim knows he wants to stay close to the Resilient offices. For all that he claims not to have anything to do with that company anymore, he sure likes to spend a lot of time there.
Maybe he’s there right now. Or maybe he’s shopping for groceries. Jim could take out his cell phone and call him. He wonders if he’s that desperate yet.
His laptop is standing on the kitchen table. It’s turned on but in sleep mode. Tony must have been working on it just recently, and he didn’t turn it off, so he probably didn’t leave for New York with Steve.
With a sigh, Jim drops his bags in his bedroom and begins to unpack the few things he took with him, taking out the laundry that needs to be washed, placing the toothbrush back in the bathroom. Tony’s toothbrush is still there, and another one that wasn’t there when Jim left.
Hunger leads him back to the kitchen. The laptop, unsurprisingly, hasn’t moved. Maybe Tony left him an e-mail. Jim could just as well check his cell phone, but the laptop is right there, and it’s not like Tony can complain about Jim using it, since it’s his and all.
There doesn’t seem anything dramatic going on when Jim wakes it up. No running programs that tell him what Tony has been doing. A web browser is active—not the one Jim installed—but it shows only Google, with no additional tabs open and the search history deleted.
“Good Afternoon, Jim,” the laptop says. Its voice is deep and pleasant, though obviously artificial. Jim looks at it and says, “Huh.”
“Tony Has Left A Message For You,” the laptop continues. Jim stares at it, looking for the program talking to him, but there’s nothing until he opens the task manager and finds a program eloquently named :P.
Apparently, :P and Tony are on first name basis already.
“What message?” he asks warily. “And how do you know it’s me?”
“Tony Is Out Taking Steve To The Airport And Will Be Back Shortly,” the laptop tells him. In reply to his other question, it opens a window that shows Jim’s face as shown through the camera integrated in the frame.
“That is not creepy at all.” From now on, Jim will cover that thing with band aids at all times.
“It Truly Is Not,” the laptop agrees. “As I Am An Artificial Intelligence Without An Agenda Of My Own, I Would Not Benefit From Spying On You Or Watching You In States Of Undress.”
“Oh, I see Tony taught you the basics of human nature.” Jim doesn’t know if he should be amused, exasperated or creeped out. He settles for putting the computer back into sleep mode and considers throwing it out of the window.
“It’s impolite to end a conversation by turning off your partner,” Tony says behind him and Jim nearly brains him with the laptop.
“Don’t sneak up on me,” he snaps. “What did you do to my computer? And why did you take Steve to the airport? You’re not supposed to drive yet.”
“I missed you, too.” Tony smiles like he really did and places a hand to the back of Jim’s neck to pull him into a kiss.
The kiss feels pretty damn real, too, and Jim feels himself relax into it and let go of his concerns. “Is the laptop watching us?” he asks warily after they break apart. Tony rolls his eyes.
“Even if it was, it wouldn’t get anything out of this. And you can shut him down, you know? But first you’ll have to let me show you all the stuff he can do. Like deliver messages whenever you don’t know when someone who can’t use a phone might arrive.” He makes a move to turn the laptop back on but Jim holds him back.
“Later,” he says. “Let’s have coffee first. How are you? How’s Steve?” The last question comes with a bit of hesitation, but Jim finds he actually cares. If Captain America was called back to New York, something must be going on.
Then again, if something was going on, he probably wouldn’t take a commercial airline.
“Steve is awesome. No catastrophes, just paperwork. I’m awesome, too. Let’s have coffee, honey bear.”
Jim scoffs at the nickname but doesn’t really mind. Tony actually does sound good, but a shadow falls over his face whenever he’s watching Jim and thinks Jim isn’t watching him right back. It’s worry, Jim realizes with a start. Tony has been worried he might have changed his mind just as much as Jim did.
The thought is amazingly reassuring, actually. Jim feels himself relax for the first time since he got here.
There’s leftover pizza in the fridge, which they eat cold as it is, and Jim is pleased to see Tony finish two whole slices before claiming to be full. The slices aren’t big and Tony is still too thin, but it’s so much better than it was a week ago.
“Steve would frown at us if he were here,” Tony rambles around his final bite. “He thinks cold pizza is disgusting. He also thinks it’s disgusting to warm it up again. But he doesn’t like food going to waste. He doesn’t make sense. Pepper sent some money to my account,” he suddenly changes the topic; obviously he’s in a good mood. “Quite a lot of money. Labeled it a fee for advising on technological matters, but I don’t know which time she paid me for, because I do that a lot. Anyway, we can use the money for getting a bigger apartment. Or a house. Can we do a house? We all need our own space, or else we will kill each other. Not that we will spend that much time in one place, all things considered. Still. Own space. So at least four bedrooms. Or at least a bigger bed.” A grin flashes over his face. “But only after Steve returns; I want to see how we all fit into the one we have.”
“Steve and I wouldn’t fit even without you.” Even with Jim and Tony it had been a tight fit that only worked because they were sleeping with their limbs entwined and mostly on top of each other, and Tony, though tall, has considerably less mass than Jim or Steve, especially now. With Steve and Tony, it can’t have been any different, and Jim suddenly becomes aware that while he was out on his mission, they were having sex in his bed.
That thought is weird enough. Jim really doesn’t want to imagine sharing a bed with Steve Rogers right now. Maybe later. Not now. “Did you look for apartments already?” he asks to change the topic. He only uses this place when he happens to be in Seattle anyway; he doesn’t have any particular emotional attachment to it.
“We found some that look good, but Steve said we should wait for you before we go looking at them.”
“And now we have to wait for him.”
“The downside of so many people,” Tony complains, but he looks content enough.
Jim takes his hand and marvels at how he is alive and here. “You look happy.”
Tony really does. He’s still a little pale and suffering from the persistent low-grade fever that started when he got soaked by the rain while his body was busy recovering from his ordeals. His left hand is still bandaged and he is still limping a little, and Jim is going to make him see a doctor about that if it doesn’t stop soon. He still has shadows around his eyes that speak of nightmares and too little rest. But right here and now, sitting in their kitchen with Jim and talking about Steve and getting a place to share, he looks happy.
“I think I might be.” Tony looks thoughtful, but then he smiles as if in wonder. Happiness doesn’t come easily to him. Jim wouldn’t even be surprised if he has trouble identifying the emotion.
But he’s happy now. Cautiously happy, perhaps, but happy nonetheless. And so, he finds, is Jim. For the first time in far too long, the future holds the promise of somethinggood.
He’ll take that, for all it is worth.
may 1st, 2013