Call Me, Call Me

"In all seriousness, how much were they paying you?" Tony suddenly piped up from his spot above Steve Rogers, swinging lazily in the hammock he made his resting spot. Their back-and-forth lead to a spur of the moment encounter in the hotel parking lot that lead exactly nowhere when Tony insisted on having a beverage break before the action. One thing had lead to another, and he was lounging around the pool with a margarita while Steve sat adjacent.

God bless poolside bars and California.

"You know what I'm talking about. The PSA's. They did pay you, right? You were always on about Brooklyn rent. You do remember how many times I offered you room and board, right?" In classic Tony Stark fashion, rambling on with a tequila quick. "I'd have swept you up the moment I knew you were having to go into showbiz just to get by."

But Not Us

"I worried you." Thor had already claimed his usual spot on Tony's proud red couch while the ever dutiful WALL-E fetched them their usual refreshments when Tony piped up from where he leaned back against his desk. His journal sat within finger-length distance of his hand atop a stack of papers, still somewhat warm from where it had been sitting on the engineer's lap as he prepared himself for Thor's visit.