New York Jitters

It’s kind of hard to sleep when you’ve got a glow-in-the-dark lego brick stuck in your chest, so he doesn’t. It’s hard to have sex when your partner’s face is lit up by a blueish light, but somehow covered in shadows, so he doesn’t.

All Tony Stark can do is start over, and over, and over, and feel like he’s losing traction.

“Coffee?” He holds out his hand half-expectantly to Bruce Banner, facial features slipping into something effortless and confident and practiced even though he wants to be genuine more than anything.

“You would be starting on your third litre in twenty-four hours, sir,” comes the automated response of JARVIS, followed by reluctant mechanical whirring. “It would be ill-advised.”

“You also said it would be ill-advised to add a pizza cutter to my suit,” the engineer murmurs, half to himself because he doesn’t like to admit that he’s arguing with a computer with a posh British accent. He should change that.

He winks at Bruce, and hopes it’s enough.

(JARVIS’ parts were written by my lovely wife. There are other sections, too but I might post them later and keep it short and sweet for now. Either way, I’d be totally lost without her written computerised sass. She’s a brilliant artist and you can find her work here: artbyval.ca.)

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