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MHA #8, Sunday Morning
Last night had been a good night. Perhaps a little too good. Stark had certainly overindulged while visiting 21 bars (not that he could remember there had been 21, at some point it had become a blur) but he'd had fun, he'd gotten nothing more than a few odd looks directed at his mask, and he'd spent the majority of one stop with his date perched in his lap kissing him to keep him from talking too much. Maybe he ought to attend more birthdays.
They had managed to stumble home eventually (thanks, Liam!) after Faye had gifted Summer some of her spoils from the evening. Getting in to the apartment had proved more difficult than expected but they'd managed. Eventually. Locks were difficult sometimes. Stark might not be entirely corporeal but that mean he couldn't get drunk. And he had been.
In fact, Stark was still not sobered up. If he had been sober he might have remembered that he'd been thrown out of his own bed the last time he tried to cuddle his current companion and he might have gone to the kitchen to fix something for breakfast.
Instead, when he awoke to find Faye still in his bed he'd rolled on to his side to see her better. Having only one eye was inconvenient at times, like right now when she was on his right side and he couldn't see her without moving. And as long as he was already moving he might as well throw his arm over her. That only made sense. She was right there. He should hold her. Why else was she right there?
[For last night's daaaaate who claims she doesn't like cuddles, the liar.]
They had managed to stumble home eventually (thanks, Liam!) after Faye had gifted Summer some of her spoils from the evening. Getting in to the apartment had proved more difficult than expected but they'd managed. Eventually. Locks were difficult sometimes. Stark might not be entirely corporeal but that mean he couldn't get drunk. And he had been.
In fact, Stark was still not sobered up. If he had been sober he might have remembered that he'd been thrown out of his own bed the last time he tried to cuddle his current companion and he might have gone to the kitchen to fix something for breakfast.
Instead, when he awoke to find Faye still in his bed he'd rolled on to his side to see her better. Having only one eye was inconvenient at times, like right now when she was on his right side and he couldn't see her without moving. And as long as he was already moving he might as well throw his arm over her. That only made sense. She was right there. He should hold her. Why else was she right there?
[For last night's daaaaate who claims she doesn't like cuddles, the liar.]
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"Me neither," Faye admitted, which was easier to say now that he'd said it first. "Really good at being on my own."
But she was here, all tangled up and not going anywhere, and she wasn't even that panicky about it anymore. At least, not at the moment.
Not when she could tilt her head to press a soft kiss to the underside of Stark's jaw. "You're good at this part, right now, though." Just to be reassuring, while she was -- well, not quite putting her cards on the table, but at least allowing him something of a peek at them, to stretch the metaphor.
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"This part is easy," he said, tilting his head back slightly. He'd missed this. Missed gentle touches and missed feeling wanted. "You," he added, opening his eye again and offering a small smile, "seem good at this part too."
And absolutely good at other things. There would be no complaints from this Banik on that front. But he would be happy for this part to last all d
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And she, at least, was well caught onto the fact that they probably had a limited window of enjoying being drunk instead of hungover, which meant that she was probably going to feel a lot more conflicted about all of this tomorrow, and right now she was kind of willing herself to just trust that it'd be okay.
Because being this close and not even wanting to run away was all really, really nice. And even if she didn't deserve anything this nice, Stark did.
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"With me? We can practice." Being used for cuddling practice was a sacrifice Stark was willing to make, Faye.
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"You'll tell me if I mess up?" she asked lightly, kissing a soft path up to his ear.
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"You haven't so far."
But she probably needed to keep practicing, didn't she?
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"Okay. Be sure to say something if I do." Or if she didn't, because she was planning to keep distracting him,
Look, the cuddles were nice, but they were totally a gateway drug, too. Note how that gentle kissing had turned into something much more likely to maybe leave a mark.
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"'kay," was all he managed. He did very helpfully tilt his head to offer up more neck, just in case it was needed.