ironmonger | (no subject)

He exhales a little and embraces Tony with a faint, very fond smile.

"As much as I hate to admit that you might have overestimated me . . ."

"Pfft."

Grinning, Tony kisses him.

Obadiah makes a pleased little sound, stroking Tony's cheek as he kisses back.

For a second it's almost like they love each other, and it's the best thing in the world.

And then he sighs, breaks the kiss, and leans his head on Obie's shoulder.

Obadiah strokes his hair slowly, letting the strands slide along his fingers.

"There's something else we should talk about," he murmurs.

He doesn't want to, because he knows perfectly well it will ruin the moment. But if he waits until after they have sex then Tony will know he did it on purpose, which will be no good, and if he doesn't bring it up at all then Tony will find out on his own, which will be worse. It has to be now.

...there's no way that can be good, but he also has no clue what it is, so:

"Yeah?"

He takes a deep, slow breath.

"You might want to sit down."

"Oh boy."

He steals Obie's desk chair immediately.

"It's not bad," he says hastily. "It's just going to be kind of a shock."

He pauses again, just long enough for it to appear as though he's searching for words, then says,

"I ran into your father here not long ago. From after the accident."

"Shit," he mutters.

"What happened?"

"I told him the truth," Obadiah says simply. "He ended up in the cells."

He runs his fingers ruefully over where his sleeve is hiding the faint lingering remains of the bruise from that encounter.

Tony winces. "Man."

He cannot, in all fairness, say he is sorry. His sympathy does not really lie with Obie here.

...oh god, Dad is going to find out about this eventually, isn't he.

Well, maybe not. Howard Stark: not the most observant guy on the planet.

He shrugs slightly.

"To be honest, I preferred that he find out from me instead of anyone else."

Like Tony. Another piece of preemptive damage control.

"So what're you gonna tell him about us? Assuming he ever talks to you again."

Obadiah's answer is very dry.

"I was kind of hoping to avoid getting murdered myself."

In other words: not a damn thing, if he can get away with it.

"Okay," he concedes, "but like, if he's sticking around, he's probably gonna notice."

"I imagine if we're discreet, we can put that off indefinitely."

Obadiah has good reason for his low opinion of Howard's observational skills when it comes to people.

"I'm not that good at discreet," Tony points out.

The wry look Obadiah gives in response is as genuine as he's capable of these days.

"Like father, like son," he observes. "I don't especially care what he thinks, but I would imagine you do."

"Well... kinda? But I'm not the one he's gonna be mad at, I'm pretty sure."

He laughs.

"I may need self-defense lessons," he concedes.

"—My first thought is 'ask Sherry', but oh my god."

He laughs more.

"No, no, I'm sure that would go well."

"He'd probably do it just for the excuse to kick your ass repeatedly."

"I'm sure he would," Obadiah says dryly. "But I think I can settle for calling for Security if I have to."