st_arkravinghazelnut | December 18th, 2012

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December 18th, 2012

Following the Battle of New York, Tony Stark and his brand were becoming many things. The days of being a no-accountability war profiteer were already well behind him, but he hardly anticipated playing landlord to a ragtag team of honest-to-god superheros. In the aftermath, that was one the first things he set about doing with Pepper. With her blessing, Tony had thrown himself into it. Never one to half-ass things, he oversaw the extensive remodeling to accommodate the specific needs of each and every Avenger. Several were essentially homeless and there was no initiative for the superpowerly-abled, even in a place as progressive as New York.

Including Steve. Even if he called Stark Tower ugly and immediately found an apartment somewhere in Brooklyn. Even though Tony set aside one of the top 12 floors for him like everyone else. Fine.

Today was all about adding that personal touch. He was giving free room and board, might as well be a gracious sugar daddy about it. Besides, who wanted to thwart crime with a guy or gal whose liquor of choice you couldn't name? Just bad form.

Stopping outside the luxury suite dedicated to the arguably most unique new friendly friend, Tony bounced on his heels. He contemplated just walking in for a split second, but he liked having his cranium hammer-free. And it was still about being gracious--as much as he could be. "JARVIS? Ping Point Break for me." Tony didn't feel like knocking. This was a compromise.

"Mr. Odinson, you have a visitor." JARVIS dutifully announced from within Thor's quarters.

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Thor loved Midgard.

He'd visited it frequently when he was younger, but until his father cast him down to the planet, he hadn't been on the planet for 100 years. Midgardians were not nearly as advanced as the other Nine Realms, or even most of the other known species in the universe, but they moved quickly, they adapted quickly, and they advanced quickly. The Midgard of 100 years ago was almost unrecognizable from the Midgard of today, and that perhaps was why he failed to recognize the place as Midgard.

That, and he had been hit by a vehicle that was far different from the automobiles he had seen on Midgard during his last visit.

Compared to Jane's apartment, though, Stark Tower was far more advanced; she had told him that Tony was a gifted engineer and inventor, though he knew very little else about the man. Jane showed little interest in him, and by proxy, so did Thor. They were occasional teammates -- nothing more.

Still, when Jane had a conference in the city, Thor went with her, and despite the suggestion that he might use Mjölnir to transport himself, she insisted he ride on an aeroplane with her.

He insisted they take Mjölnir, despite Jane's best arguments.

At security, they insisted that his hammer be checked with the rest of their luggage until Thor explained that it could not be lifted by anyone else. The TSA agent grappled with the weapon for a good five minutes, holding up everyone in line, much to the exasperation of those flight-goers behind him. Eventually, after a long conversation with what Thor was pretty sure was their leader, he was permitted as a special exception (no doubt because of his celebrity status an Avenger) to board with the weapon, though he was instructed to store it in the overhead bin immediately, then not remove it until the plane had landed.

Because of it, he and Jane nearly missed their flight.

It had been strange and cramped and Thor was not entirely sure how anyone tolerated it. Jane had gotten frustrated at him because of his constant need to roam about the plane, but they were all crammed into such tiny spaces for such a long period of time, he couldn't understand how anyone tolerated it. He talked to many people and even signed autographs and took pictures with a few, and by the end of the flight, Jane's exasperation was obvious. A little space would probably be good for the both of them.

And that's how Thor wound up at Stark Tower and simply let himself in without ceremony. He hadn't been sure that anyone knew he was there until the AI helpfully informed him that someone was at the door.

"Let them in," he tells Jarvis.

Edited 2018-10-26 04:50 (UTC)

Upon the automatic doors parting to reveal Tony Stark's humble self waiting just beyond the threshold, he strode in as he literally owned the place.

"Making yourself at home?" Tony took a look about the room, admiring his own work. There was no replicating Asgardian sensibilities for interior design, but it had a regal flavor mixed in with the sleek modernism of it all.

"Your accommodations are prodigious," Thor says smoothly, with obvious approval.

In other words, yes. He is.

"I hope you don't mind that I spend a few days here at the tower. Jane and I are in town for a conference."

"That's kinda what it's here for? You and whoever else we've got knocking around for great justice--you should be honored, by the way." Tony leaned over the back of the couch beside Thor, his forearms depressing the white cushions and fingers toying with the gold trim.

"Never gave this much thought to another man's room." True. Banner and Steve and Barton were at least the same species.

"So you personally chose the decor?" Thor can hardly believe it; granted, his interaction with Tony was fairly limited, but he didn't strike him as the sort of person who'd be into interior design.

"Oh, yeah." Tony batted his eyelashes before relenting. "Alright. Pep did. But I gave input."

"Good," Thor says, with slight disinterest. "Did you come here for a reason?"

"Yeah." Tony answered flatly, now more than a little distracted with the cushion and how it was a bit much.

"You're gone a lot, and you're crashing in my place, and that's fine, but I don't know you, you don't know me. We should do something about that."

"Do all of the other Avengers stay here full time?" Thor asks. The place was hospitable enough, but he couldn't imagine staying here full-time. Though he rarely stayed anywhere full time these days -- neither at Jane's, nor in Asgard.

"A few." Tony vaulted himself over the back of the couch, his smaller body landing with a little bounce onto the cushioned surface. "And I've made time with every single one except you."

Thor looks over at Tony, expression clearly puzzled. He's not entirely sure why he's so interested in getting to know him better. It would be one thing if they had been steadfast allies like he was with Sif and the Warriors Three; so far, though, they were more allies of convenience. As long as the Avengers were determined to keep Midgard safe, Thor would fight alongside them whenever they needed him.

"Are you suggesting we get to know one another?"

"Uh. Yeah. Why? Is thoust too cool to chill with thy protectorates?" Tony tsked and shook his head.

"I have no such objections," Thor says, shifting on the couch. "I did not know that there was any such interest. What do you wish to know?"

Alright, it was a start. Time to screw it up just the right amount.

"You a, uh, natural blonde?"

Thor blinks at the question.

"What?"

"Your hair." Tony motioned at his head, then at Thor's. "It's like this--this maximum goldenrod value going on. Never seen anything like it."

Thor touches his hair, looking slightly offended.

"Why would I alter my hair? It is wonderful as is."

Clearly, Thor loves his hair.

Tony leaned in, squinting, as if he'd catch some kind of trick upon close enough inspection. "So that is your hair! There was kind of a running bet. I chose the right horse. Banner owes me sushi."

Thor squints right back.

"If you are not certain, you are welcome to touch it and dispel all doubt."

Tony raised a hand warily, positioning it every which way, as if mentally mapping the best plan of attack for going about this. He had every intention of doing so, but Thor could sneeze in his direction and knock him across the room and he did still have some feeble sense of self-preservation.

"Can I just--" Tony's hand flattened and mimicked a plane as it made a slow trek towards the top of the larger man's head.

What sort of Midgardian nonsense was this? Thor is uncertain what that hand gesture means, but he isn't sure he likes it. He is sure that Tony simply lacks the culture and understanding to know precisely how important hair is to their culture.

You make bets over who will win in a battle or who will engorge themselves with the most food during a feast. You do not make bets over the authenticity of a man's hair.

Thor decides he will forgive this slight; Tony meant no disrespect, he's sure.

Thor stands abruptly and holds out his hand; Mjölnir immediately races up to meet it. "I am going in search of something to eat," he tells Tony. "Would you like to accompany me?"

Tony's fingers were just about to make contact when in came the hammer and Thor popping up, and Tony jerked like a startled rabbit. He was sure he made a little sound to accompany it, which he masked with a professional-sounding cough to clear his throat and let his hand drop.

This wouldn't be forgotten.

"We've got stuff here. We can order in." He paused, imagining what a day out could entail with the man in tow. "Actually, you're right, let's go. My treat."

"You will have to introduce me to your New York cuisines," he says, heading for the door. "Are we taking a vehicle, or is Mjölnir sufficient transport?"

After the aeroplane ride, he hopes a ride on Mjölnir is okay. Any human should be excited at the prospect of riding his hammer.

If Tony squinted any harder, he'd have gone blind. "A ride on your hammer."

The doors whir open.

"Yes. I would grip it, you would grip me, and it'd pull us off the ground and to whatever destination we so chose."

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