MHA #4, Friday 5 PM. EXACTLY.

[stykera]

Stark had spent the day keeping busy. Not like that. He'd gone for a walk which had turned into a jog and then back into a walk. He'd gone to the store for the items requested yesterday. He'd gone for another walk. He'd taken a very, very long time getting ready to come down here. He'd showered, he'd considered shaving and decided against it eventually. He'd taken care to buff his mask and the buckles on it. He'd tried on and rejected several shirts to go with the requested blue suit. And finally, finally, he'd waited long enough and it was time to go downstairs.

He thought he looked good. He had flowers, chocolate, and a bottle of whiskey in hand. He'd waited until just before 5 to go down the stairs and now he was knocking on Summer's door feeling oddly nervous about it, and not just because he was awkwardly juggling all the things in his hands to have the ability to knock. This felt different. Maybe because it was this week, or the end of this week, or because he'd spent the better part of two days now not actively participating in this week, or maybe because there had been something of a shift in his worldview over those same days. Whatever the reason, or reasons, he was feeling jittery as he waited for a response.


[for she who lives in the apartment and posted early for drugged up probable SP and because I can't sleep]

Comments

[stykera]

"I like blue," Stark managed to say. "And pink. Pink is very good." He could not take his eye off of her even as he tried to shrug out of his jacket in an attempt to be helpful.

"I... is that new. It's... wonderful." And begging to be touched.

[somethingwithturquoise]

Summer was a little rougher with the fourth button, but then her hands were sliding back up Stark's chest and over his shoulders to help with that jacket, as well.

"It is new," she confirmed with a nod, drawing back a little with a shoulder lifted to show it off a little more now that the jacket was taken care of. "I thought maybe you'd like it.

"What I had in mind for tonight is a little bit new, too," she said, and she pulled closer again, this time with her hands fumbling for his belt, though her eyes were very steadily on his. "...if you think you'd be interested..."

[stykera]

"I am interested," Stark said quickly. He was staying very still now. Just watching her and waiting.

"I'm always interested in what you want. You know that. And this, this new outfit, it's...I love it. I want to touch it. And you."

But he was still holding himself still. It seemed like the correct choice right now.

[somethingwithturquoise]

"We'll get there," Summer promised, doing a poor job of keeping the smirk off her face as she finally unbuckled the belt and pulled it out from around Stark. She tossed it aside for now and then just sat back on her heels, hands settled in her lap and looked Stark over in his current state of still way too overdressed.

Her head tilted back toward one of her bedside tables. "First, though," she said, "I'll need you to go open the second drawer down on the left side table, take a look, and let me know if there's anything else in there you might like."

[stykera]

Stark gave her a very quizzical look at those instructions.

"Why would I want something from your drawer?" he asked but he was already moving in that direction. He toed off his shoes on the way. They were certainly only going to be a hindrance to whatever it was Summer had in mind.

Another quizzical look and he opened the drawer and paused and looked back at her.

"You have...oh...this...there's a lot. There's...oh." He was going to need a minute.

[somethingwithturquoise]

That was fine. Stark could take all the time he needed to process it. Well, not all the time, if his boggling took too long, Summer would absolutely step in, but for now? She was just going to crawl on over to that side of the bed and lay on her stomach, legs bent up behind her ans her chin resting her hand, propped up by her elbow with a pleased, satisfied grin for that reaction.

And, eventually, "Told you I'd make it worth the wait. You can pick out anything you want from there. Maybe even two, since you've been so....y'know...good. And patient. But I know I've definitely got a good suggestion if you're having a hard time," heh, "choosing."

[stykera]

Stark looked over at her, eye wide, and dropped down to his knees to have a better look. Or maybe because it just seemed like a good time to be kneeling.

"I'm not even sure what all of these are," he admitted, turning back to the contents of the drawer. He picked up one item, turned it over in his hands a few times, and set it back down.

"You...," he said, picking up another and looking back at her. "You'd...use it? On me?"

Summer, you were opening up a whole new world here.

[somethingwithturquoise]

A world that probably should have been opened up way sooner, but damn, if Summer didn't appreciate them drama of saving it for this week in particular.

And look at that, Stark on his knees put him in the perfect position for Summer to just reach over and dance her fingers on the back of his neck and along the edges and buckles of the straps on his mask.

"I'd like to," she said. "What do you think, Stark?" Her fingers started drifting down his jawline, with a clear appreciation for the faint stubble there from him clearly not having shaved that day. "Will you let me frell you tonight?"

And to anyone who might think that all of this between them was just because Stark's devotion to her kept Summer's voracious ego fed, she would like to gesture, emphatically, to the fact that, yes, she actually did say that, without even a trace of irony and with a completely straight face.

[stykera]

Even without this week there was no world in which Stark would have been able to turn down that offer from this woman.

"Summer." There was a whole universe of meaning in her name when he said it that way. He leaned into her touch, pleased that the shaving decision had been the correct one, and then, unable to hold back any longer, turned and half-stodd so he could answer her with a kiss.

A kiss that conveyed as much meaning as saying her name had, even without the way his hands were ghosting over the edges of what she was wearing.